“It is truly a relief to see that it works. After all these years I wasn’t sure it would.”
“What, the door?” Joe responds, unclear as to what Scraggle is talking about.
Rising from the couch and walking to the edge of the black wall, Scraggle begins to explain. “Let me show you.” He looks around at the wall, searching for something. “Ah, yes. Here we are. Please, join me.”
Joe walks to Scraggle.
“Now if you’ll just stand here.” Scraggle positions Joe two feet in front of the wall. “Excellent. Now, place your right hand—this one.” The old man lifts Joe’s right hand. “Place it on the wall and hold it there.”
Joe does as Scraggle requests. At first nothing happens. Joe looks at Scraggle for an explanation.
“One more moment,” Scraggle tells him.
A faint light grows in the black. Its height and width are exactly that of Joe. An image starts to form.
“It can sometimes be a slow process. Especially if you are new,” Scraggle says before a perfect image of Joe appears on the wall.
Joe jerks his hand back and steps away. The image starts to fade but Scraggle grabs Joe’s hand and places it back on the wall.
“Dear boy, I never considered the idea that you’d never seen yourself before. I suppose there aren’t many reflective surfaces in the Mines…”
“That’s me?” Joe asks. He stares at his own reflection. He touches his own face and looks down at the clothes he wears. Without removing his hand, he sways back and forth watching the image of himself move at the same time. Joe kicks his feet forwards and back and the image does the same. He smiles and lets out a laugh. The image mimics him, only without sound.
“This is what is known as a reflection. Of course this is more like a scan. A digital reflection if you will,” Scraggle explains. “It was used to catalogue each prisoner and worker in the Column.”
“Lauren would love this,” Joe muses.
“If you think that is incredible, place only your fingers on the wall.” Scraggle smiles as though he has a secret.
Joe pushes his fingers up so that the palm of his hand is pushed off of the wall. The image of Joe changes to one of just a skeleton.
“This is your skeletal system. Your bones are what keep you standing,” Scraggle explains in a summarized way.
Joe continues moving around, watching his skeleton mimic his movements exactly.
“Raise your thumb from the wall,” Scraggle says.
Joe does as instructed and another image appears over the skeleton. This one is red and full of lines and striations. Almost like a webbing, moving throughout arms and legs. Joe cranes his head back. It’s fairly unnerving sight but he does not remove his hand.
“The musculature system. What you see is how you are able to move and perform your tasks. Each piece is capable of growing and stretching. A most glorious working.”
Scraggle gives Joe a moment to take in the sight a little longer.
As Joe moves his limbs around he notices the movement of his muscles. The stretching and the turning that they do depend on what movements he makes.
“One more layer. This is the one that allows the musculature system to work. It is the life of all of us. Leave only your three fingers on the wall.”
Joe places his little finger under his thumb and the image of fibrous muscle disappears, leaving only red lines from the top of Joe’s head to the bottoms of his feet. All indications that Joe is looking at a person have disappeared into these red lines.
“The vascular system. The place where all the blood flows through us. It is how we live. Without it, we would no longer be able to move. Of course we would die well before then,” Scraggle explains.
Joe looks at his wounded finger. It is red but no longer bleeding as it was. He looks back at the image and sees very tiny green colors moving amongst the red. “What are those?”
Scraggle takes a closer look and smiles. “Those, my dear boy, are dream. D.R.E.A.M. Dependency Redundant Electronic Algorithm Modifiers. Those are what make you the Dreamer.”
Scraggle walks away from the wall to sit back on the couch. Joe looks back at the image before slowly lowering his hand and watching the wall fade to black.
“The Dreamer…So what does that mean?” Joe asks.
“Inside you are nano-scopic machines that have been programmed to give whoever they dwell in, control over certain Column facility functions. Functions such as opening the Warden hallway. More specifically they are designed to override the door to the Steps.”
“So the Dreamer is just…” Joe trails off, trying to find the right words.
“The carrier of DREAM. A completely random occurrence,” Scraggle tells him as though Joe is just supposed to accept it.
Joe looks at the ground and laughs. “I thought for a minute that maybe the prophecy was real. That something about me might be special.”
“Oh, but something is. My dear boy, you are special. You are the only one who can get me to the Steps.”
“What do you mean, get you to the Steps?” Joe snaps his head up.
“You were chosen at random. One child, to carry the DREAM. Upon my exile, I tasked my assistant to program the nano-machines and inject them into a child before that child was chosen for the Mines.” Scraggle’s voice is full of praise for himself. “Once that child reached a specific age, the DREAM program would begin running and soon after, I could be free of the trappings of the Mines.”
“So the dreams I was having…They weren’t real?” Joe asks, feeling slightly dejected.
“Not as dreams work. What you saw in your sleep were pre-recordings. Images of the Surface taken years ago. Once you reached the appropriate age, they would flood your mind. It was the only way I could know who had the machines running through their veins,” Scraggle explains.
It’s so much information all at once. All Joe has ever known is the Mines, the Ladder and the ideas and questions of what could be above them. And now that he knows, it’s exhausting. “The prophecy…”
“There is no prophecy, child. Only a plan,” Scraggle says quietly.
Joe closes his eyes to imagine the dream he’d had. He sees the grass, the trees, the river and the city in the distance. “If they’re images of the Surface, then everything I saw is actually there?”
“I should hope it’s still there. It’s been years and I’m sure some changes have occurred,” Scraggle says, having never really thought of it before.
“If it is then we need to bring everyone there, out of the Mines.” Joe’s voice takes a more commanding tone.
Scraggle slowly shakes his head. “The Guard saw us go up the Ladder. Going back down will simply place you in the Ban. No, I cannot permit this. I need you to open the door to the Steps.”
“Not without the others.”
Scraggle stares at Joe, trying to find the right words to convince him. “If you’d like to return for that very reason, you may do so after you get me to the Steps. I can handle the rest of the journey, on my own, from there.”
Joe shakes his head. “No. No, they’re coming at the same time or we can stay here.”
Scraggle presses his hands together. He tries to keep his temper down. “Be reasonable. You know that if you go back down there—”
“We didn’t have a choice. We were exiled, too. Just like you. And why?” Joe yells.
“Yes, Marion. Tell him why.” The sudden image of a well dressed man appears on the black wall.
Chapter Thirteen
The man on the wall wears clothing similar to Scraggle’s. Sitting in front of him is a single light on top of a table. It looks like the same kind of light as those in the Bunks except it is dimmed by a shade of some sort. The man’s dark hair is swept back on top of his head. He smiles at Scraggle in a smug and superior way.
“Tell the young man why you’re here and what this is all about,” the man continues.
“Dorian?” Scraggle tries to remember. “It can’t be you. You look
so different.”
“It has been sixteen years since last I saw you. Some change is inevitable. You’ve changed as well, Marion. You’re looking a bit older since last I saw you.” The words are teasing.
“Has it been that long since I’ve seen the sun?” Scraggle’s thoughts fall back to the days of freedom.
“I assure you it is still as breathtaking as ever. The moon even more so.” Marion continues bating Scraggle.
Scraggle hangs his head low. The thought of so much time passing is a hard one to bear.
Suddenly, he snaps his head up. “You stand in the chamber of your father. How is he?”
“Replaced, I’m glad to say. I am facilitating things now.”
Scraggle furrows his brow, confused. “You? You were never meant to—”
“Regardless, I am. But enough of that, I’m curious about your new friend,” Dorian interrupts. “If these scans are correct, it would seem you’ve found your key.”
“Oh. This is…This is…” Scraggle looks at Joe. “I beg your pardon, you all look the same to me. And I’m afraid I never learned any of your names.”
“Joe.” he says directly to Dorian.
“Well, I guess the secret is out then, Joe. I don’t suppose you’d be very fond of returning to the Mines,” Dorian says sarcastically.
“We’re going to the surface,” Scraggle insists.
“All of us,” Joe adds.
“But Joe, if you all leave the Mines, how will those of us up above survive? It’s all of your hard work and loyalty to your work that allows us to live in the way we are accustomed. You wouldn’t want that to change would you?” Dorian raises a small green gem very similar to the one Lauren tried to pocket.
“Pay no attention to him, Dorian. It’s is only the two of us who are going to the Surface,” Scraggle tries to explain.
“I see. Well, Joe…When you go back down to get all of your friends, I understand that the Doctor is terribly low on Remedy. We can’t have all of our busy little workers getting sick down there.” Dorian’s eyes look away from them for a moment. “Take some of these with you.”
A panel opens on the white wall, revealing a cabinet stocked full with vials of Remedy and syringes. Joe runs to the cabinet and starts pocketing whatever he can.
“I’m sure there’s an easier way of transporting it all, in there, somewhere.” Dorian grins. Joe looks at him distrustfully. Something about the expression on his face. But the Remedy vials are real enough so he doesn’t dwell on it too long.
At the top of the shelf is a small metal box. Joe has to stand on his toes to get it. He puts as much Remedy in the box as it will hold.
“I think that’s quite enough,” Dorian says as the panel starts to close.
Joe makes one last attempt to grab just a few more before the cabinet closes all the way.
“Good luck…Joe.” Dorian grins.
Joe starts back for the hatch to the tunnel.
“Wait, Dreamer—Joe, wait,” Scraggle pleads. “Use your reason. If you go down there, you may never have another chance such as this, again.”
Joe strains to pull the door open.
“All of that hard labor makes a child strong, doesn’t it, Marion?” Dorian teases.
Joe finally gets the door open. He turns around to look at Scraggle and Dorian. “I’m going to bring everyone up here.”
“I can’t let you do that.” Scraggle lays his hand over part of the black wall.
“I’m already at the door. You can’t stop me.”
Scraggle places his hand on the wall just as Joe turns around. A vertical row of pointed lances juts out from the wall, one of them stopping barely an inch from Joe’s right eye. Joe jerks back, dropping some of the vials on the floor and some down the tunnel.
“And there is more than that. Get me to the Steps first. Then you can go do whatever you want,” Scraggle says with a slight shaking in his voice.
“Oh, this is more entertainment than I’ve had in quite a while,” Dorian muses.
Joe slowly turns to face Scraggle. “If what you said about me opening the door is true then you can’t risk me getting hurt or worse.”
Scraggle, knowing the reality of Joe’s words, removes his hand and the lances draw back into the wall. “Be quick, Dreamer,” Scraggle says in a low tone.
“Yes, I look forward to the drama that unfolds,” Dorian adds. “Are they all this entertaining, Marion? So full of hope and exuberance.”
Joe carefully steps onto the Ladder and back into the tunnel. The old man slowly shuts the door above him. “Bring as many as you can. Don’t waste time trying to convince all of them.”
The door closes and Joe is once again in the dim light at the top of the tunnel. He looks down into the box full of Remedy. It’s not as much as he’d like but it’s certainly more than the Doctor has.
With the metal box in one hand, Joe makes the slow, one-handed climb down. As he nears the whirring metallic sound above the smog he wonders if what pricked his finger is anything like the lances Scraggle controlled in the room above. He shakes off the thought as he passes the cloth-covered cut-out in the stone wall.
Down lower, the green light in the fog dimly bathes the tunnel in its glow. Joe makes his way down into the fog.
He stops and looks back at the pipes, remembering Scraggle’s words, You can no longer get the Sick.
Joe inhales deeply, letting the smog fill his lungs. The reactionary cough is instant and violent. But it stops soon enough and Joe feels no other effects from the smog. No itchy throat. No dizziness. And no more sign of the cough. It’s good to know that he’s no longer at risk for the Sick.
He continues down below the Fog, looking below himself to see the string of lights getting closer together. The bulbs at the bottom of the tunnel become brighter. Unfortunately he can also see the shapes of people at the bottom of the Ladder. Joe keeps his steady descent, ready to face whatever punishment awaits him.
Reaching the bottom of the tunnel, just outside the opening to the Junction, Joe sees the Boss, the Guard and the Doctor.
“Keep moving,” The Boss orders.
Joe steps down into the Junction until he is just below the opening to the tunnel. He stops.
”I said get down here,” The Boss commands.
Joe motions to the Guard. “Keep him back.”
The Boss waves his hand back for the Guard to step away. The Guard does as ordered but maintains his cold stare at Joe.
Joe climbs down the Ladder and his feet hit the ground. I’m back to this. Maybe I should have stayed up there. It’s a selfish thought, gone as quickly as it had come.
“Where’s the old man?” the Boss asks.
“He’s up there. Above the tunnel. I found more Remedy. And there’s even more up there,” Joe says excitedly.
The Doctor quickly steps forward to grab the box from Joe’s hand. She looks in it and smiles. “It’s enough for now.”
“Restock your office,” the Boss tells her never taking his eyes off Joe. The Guard stares at him, too. “You know what this means, right?”
“A night in the Ban,” Joe says understandingly.
The Guard laughs.
“Try five days,” the Boss corrects him.
“Five days?” Joe snaps.
“It’s for your own good. Trust me,” the Boss tells him. “Take him to the Ban.”
“Wait. Not him.” Joe backs up.
“Fine. He’s not to be harmed. Am I clear?” The Boss tells the Guard who nods at the order.
The Guard grabs Joe by the shoulder and pushes him along toward the Ban.
The Doctor watches the two walk away before turning to the Boss. “You know what this means right?”
The Boss simply exhales.
Chapter Fourteen
Unlike Lauren, who’s had many stays in the Ban, Joe has yet to be accustomed to it. He’s spent enough nights in it to know he doesn’t want to return but he’s never been given such a long sentence before. And of cou
rse, once out of view of the Boss, the Guard decides a little roughing up is in order.
“I told you. You little ingrates always make your way back.”
The Guard shoves Joe down the steps. The force of the push causes Joe to nearly fall down the stone stairs. An injury in the Ban plus a five day stay is not a combination anyone would want to experience.
“I don’t know what you saw up there but whatever it was, keep it to yourself. And as far as that old man is concerned, if he ever comes back down here, he won’t just be thrown in a cell. I guarantee that.” The Guard pushes Joe into an empty cell and closes the door. “I hope you like your accommodations.” Those last words end with a chuckle as he turns to walk back up the stairs out of the Ban.
Joe hits the back wall of his cell. The same wounded finger flares up in pain from the strike. All that’s left is to bide his time till release. Until that time, all he can do is think of a way to get everyone to follow him up the Ladder. That will mean having to deal with Mason again. And the other guards. If it can be done without a confrontation, that would be best. The more people who follow, the less likely of a confrontation happening.
Who am I kidding? Of course there’s going to be a fight.
He drops to the ground. It’s cold and a little damp but at least it’s not as wet as the Mud Hall. It’s certainly not as comfortable as that couch, though. “It wouldn’t be so bad, down here, if we could sleep on those,” he says to no one. “At least the whole place isn’t a jail.”
“Who are you talking to?” The cocky voice of Lauren is unmistakable. The freckle faced girl carefully walks down the stairs and stands outside his door.
“Myself. What are you doing here?”
“What’s a jail?” she asks, ignoring his question.
“A place for prisoners and bad people.”
“Is that what we are? Bad people? You learn that on the Surface?”
“I didn’t make it to the Surface,” Joe tells her, dejectedly. “It’s farther up than that.”
“Where did you go? What’s up there?” Her eyes light up. For someone like Lauren, a mystery like this is too much to pass up.
“You’re gonna end up in here if you don’t go,” he tries to convince her.
Ascent: (Book 1) The Ladder Page 7
