Fallen World

by Ben van Eijk

  “Oxford!” exclaimed the man in white.

  “You are Oxford?” asked Seth. “So this is the resistance right?” He gestured to his surroundings.

  The bearded man had grey eyes that matched his facial hair in colour. He had a modest, rounded nose and purple bags under his eyes, like the other three men Seth had already encountered. Unlike Seth’s wardens, on this man’s head was a silver-grey helmet of hair, held back neatly. He also had a grey moustache creeping down from the sides of his upper lip to join his grey beard.

  “Yes, I am Oxford, and yes, this is the resistance. Who, may I ask, are you?” Oxford asked Seth calmly. Seth sighed in relief: he was finally speaking with someone reasonable.

  “I am Seth Cost. I am not from here, but I think you may be able to help me get home. I just came from Chos Garren but those people are insane.”

  Oxford smiled and his grey eyes glimmered a little as he looked down at Seth.

  “Well, it looks like you may be able to help us too. How about we sit down to have a blay chat and we can work something out — and could you remove those stone bindings from poor Sergei? He cannot mir any work like this.”

  Seth shrugged his shoulders and looked apologetic as he responded.

  “Sorry but I don’t, uh, mirn’t...? Mir not really know how to make things disappear... the materialisation of elements is easy, but I’m not exactly sure how to reverse it just yet.” Not to mention the fact that Seth still harboured some ill will towards the bald man, considering he had been pointing some kind of deadly metal thunderclap weapon at Seth less than five minutes ago.

  “Hmmm, OK. We’ll find a way to get them off then, but let’s go and speak further. I guarantee you will be safe here. We thought you were an Inquirer, but you have not shown any of their naivety or blind disregard for human life, so I believe you when you say you mir not want to cause any more trouble. My men are trigger happy somejits; we have had many attempts at infiltration by the Inquirers before,” Oxford explained to Seth as he slowly walked back down the concrete corridor.

  Seth followed Oxford around the concrete labyrinth while Oxford proudly explained how he had been watching Seth through a remote device and how the resistance could use a man like him. Eventually they were sitting in a room, large in comparison to the rest of the underground complex. It had a bed in the corner and a bookcase, completely full. There were metal chests stacked against one wall, and a small white dome on a table by the bed. In the middle of the room was a simple wooden table with two wooden chairs.

  Oxford was the third leader of the resistance. They had been stationed in the shadow arc for about forty years now. Their base was established by a woman known as Katarina Duggles, who was extremely revered in the eyes of resistance members, and was used as an example of the standards by which they should live. The concrete complex had been an extremely difficult undertaking, and the size of the resistance decreased greatly while they excavated enough ground to build a temporary underground complex. From there, they could continue tunnelling, only needing to briefly return to the surface to rid themselves of excess regolith. The resistance was 155 strong when it was created; there were only 47 members now. Considering, however, that the population of Chos Garren was only 600, this ratio was a good indication of how many people detested the Inquirers enough to risk treason.

  Oxford told Seth a lot about the Inquirers too. It seemed the Inquirers were a group of citizens from Chos Garren that had grown powerful through clever inventions. The group had originally been appointed the task of increasing quality of life, and comprised of the smartest people from Chos Garren. They concocted miracles like lights that could run from a readily available power source, generating no heat but providing far more light than primitive torches. The “readily available power source” was also one of their inventions, and it allowed the group to power many other gadgets they came up with. In the beginning, this collective was praised, and rewarded by enthusiastic customers; it wasn’t like they were giving their inventions away for free, but it was certainly all reasonably priced.

  Realising they now had a monopoly, they started charging people ridiculous amounts. They were the only ones to offer this advanced technology, but before long someone started to backwards engineer the contraptions the Inquirers had made. They were actually quite successful. The Inquirers didn’t want to give up their monopoly quite so easily, so more new devices were created, sold for a reasonable price once more. Everybody was happy again and directed their admiration back towards the Inquirers.

  Their newest invention was, however, quite a few levels above their last: a chip, surgically inserted into the skull. The chip could then be used to activate many of the Inquirer’s previous inventions without raising a finger. It would also allow people to perform complex mathematical equations in the blink of an eye. The device served many purposes. Like all the group’s previous inventions, the moment they knew it existed, the residents found they could not live without it.

  It wasn’t long before everyone had one of these chips. That was when the clase was introduced. The idea was to improve people’s moods naturally, without negative side effects. Eventually clase became a tool that could not only improve moods, but also worsen them. It inevitably became a device for punishment: it could be used mildly, causing people to feel depressed, cry constantly, and completely lack any energy, and in extreme cases it would be used to cause immense physical pain.

  The Inquirers had a method of controlling these chips remotely, and they soon became the self-elected authority of Chos Garren. They, of course, remained free of chips in their heads. The Inquirers then forced the residents of Chos Garren to erect the two buildings, the Reference Centre, for the Inquirers to live in. The Inquirers actually completed the last final stages of the building themselves, a choice which confused everyone. It was only later that they realised this was so no one else would know the method they would use to lock themselves in. The Inquirers had built themselves a fortress, from which they could control the population of Chos Garren, by ensuring every citizen always had their clase activated and by punishing citizens who tried advancing technologically. A strict set of laws were created that forbade going anywhere near the Inquirer’s residence, as well as any development above a certain level of technology. They deactivated the energy network through Chos Garren and adapted it to provide power only to themselves. Some people tried to object, and break into the great towers, but this always ended in someone suffering a pain or mental debilitation so intense they couldn’t even get within ten metres of the buildings.

  Seth wondered why he hadn’t experienced any resistance when he had attempted to knock on the door of one of the towers. Oxford explained that without a chip, Seth was free of the constant pounding of clase, as were all resistance members. Many of them had been born free of any chips in their head. This was the idea of the resistance: to create people who wouldn’t be controlled by the Inquirers anymore. With enough people, the resistance could attack the Inquirers and free the citizens of Chos Garren from oppression.

  Their founder, Katarina Duggles, had actually been an Inquirer herself. She left their pipe covered fortress due to a moral dilemma; her colleagues were starting to use the clase excessively, leaving no room for anyone’s natural emotions. People who followed the laws of the Inquirers and set a good example were kept deliriously happy. The ones who showed any sign of resistance were instantly put into a melancholy depression. Katarina decided to create a device of her own to silence the clase for her fellow residents. The other Inquirers caught her before she could save everyone. They tried to stop her, but she took the 154 residents she had saved far away from Chos Garren. The Inquirers had lost all perspective by this point, and actually tried firing on the deserters. Katarina, however, had also taken her fair share of gadgets from the towers, and defended her people nobly.

  It was for this reason that Katarina gifted the resistance with a philosophy that focused on the human experience. Members were honest un
der all circumstances; the moment someone begins lying is the moment they believe they have more power than someone else. It was as though evolution had not provided these people with the means to misuse communication by telling untruths. The resistance saw lying as worse than holding their people back; it was more like choosing to devolve. The ability to communicate was seen as a gift of evolution and when someone misused it by lying, it was evidence that they would rather drag everyone around them down. Lying to anyone about even the smallest thing among was abhorred by the resistance.

  Seth liked this idea. He wasn’t sure he could be as honest as the resistance strived to be, but he preferred it over having a chip inserted into his skull. The resistance wasn’t able to grow easily, since infiltrating Chos Garren was next to impossible, but they had nonetheless managed to gain a few informants. Oxford had sent some of his team on missions to Chos Garren, using one of Katarina’s devices to disable some of the villagers’ chips. As soon as any such people were discovered by the Inquirers, they would disappear the same day. Unfortunately, quite a few people had met a quick end this way.

  Katarina’s legacy included blueprints to many different items, including the small metal device everyone seemed to have here in the underground. Seth learned that it was a projectile device which fired a small metal pellet at extreme velocities, the force of which could easily pierce a man’s rib cage. It was called a ‘ghilt’. There were also blueprints for a much larger and more destructive projectile weapon which needed to be held with both hands and partially mounted on the shoulder in order to be fired. Seth was shown lots of blueprints that he did not understand as Oxford spoke proudly about the foundation of the resistance, but then he saw something familiar: there was an illustration on a sheet of paper, very different to the rest of the blueprints — much more colour and detail like someone had just replicated the image from real life. The picture Oxford was now showing to Seth was one of the planet people Seth had seen gliding on the giant blue orbs, just before he had teleported to Estever.

  Chapter 7

  “What is that?!” Seth asked, unable to hide the urgency in his voice.

  Oxford looked at the picture in his hand, studying it quickly.

  “This is an elemental — at least, that is what Katarina called it. This is actually one of the few things she left behind that we still don’t fully understand. The blueprints all came with explanations; anything we had the material for, we have made and tested. But this one just looks like a painting, and came with no notes. The resistance leader that took over after Katarina told us that it was bigger than us and that we wouldn’t understand. Her name was Eliah, Eliah Nite. But she was also a great leader and must have had good reasons for thinking that way. Evidently, Katarina also thought so: she was here to explain most of the blueprints, but she refused to explain that one, only saying that the creature was known as an ‘elemental’. The only people who may know more about it would be the Inquirers.”

  Seth sighed and shook his head.

  “Of course,” he said.

  This was the best news Seth had heard since arriving on Estever. Finally, he had a clue pointing towards home, but the rest of the information was not something that would be given willingly, judging by the Inquirers’ reputation. He had to find them and discover what they knew about this elemental. If Seth’s memory was correct, he had seen this exact elemental too: he was certain he recognised the blue and green planet making up a portion of the creature’s right arm.

  Seth stood up and dusted his robe off a little. He looked at Oxford.

  “Well, I’m going to have to go have a conversation with some of the Inquirers I think. They live in those strange towers by Chos Garren, right?”

  “Slow down boy, mir not think it’s as simple as that! Although you have some tarin technology yourself, which I think may definitely help... it’s why I have been so amicable with you to be honest... but you can’t just go walking into the Inquirer’s fortress. They have defences that mir not use the chips, so they could definitely harm you,” Oxford said as he poked his index finger against the table.

  Seth put his hand to his chin to consider Oxford’s advice. He believed that his matter manipulation skills were more than enough to be able to enter the two towers himself but to be fair, the resistance had somehow managed to knock Seth out cold and bring him to this underground complex, so some help was probably a good idea.

  Seth inhaled sharply and looked at Oxford directly as he spoke.

  “Well, I am going to have to go confront them, with or without your help. As far as I can tell, they are the only people who might know how I can get home, or at the very least give me some sort of idea of where I am. Oh, and what time is it?”

  Oxford looked strangely at Seth; clearly their concept of time was different, or at least their word for it.

  “That I cannot answer Seth, mainly because I mir not understand you, but I suggest you get some sleep before you make your move on the Inquirers. It’s been some jit since you shaversed here and you should be getting some sleep.”

  Seth smiled slightly.

  “Well, you answered my question in a way. Sleep sounds like a great idea. I only recently learned the value of a good night’s sleep, but it was an invaluable lesson. Do you have a spare bed where I could get some rest?”

  “Actually yes, we have a few spare ones in case our informants are discovered and manage to escape Chos Garren before being purged,” answered Oxford positively.

  “You can rest in one of them. Tomorrow we will discuss our plan of attack. I need to go get the troops ready for an offense.” Oxford explained the complicated route Seth should take to find the extra bed on which he would soon get some much needed rest.

  As Seth was walking away to hopefully find his bed he turned around back to Oxford.

  “How did you get me down here in the first place by the way?”

  Oxford looked at Seth, his eyes already shining excitedly at the possibility of finally taking down the Inquirers.

  “Oh, that was just a simple anaesthetic we percklited into your bloodstream with a projectile weapon.” Oxford indicated the spot on his own shoulder where Seth still felt some residual pain.

  “Wow, you guys do have some pretty impressive technology — we will need to find a method to avoid that if the Inquirers have the same technology tomorrow.” The projectile must have hit him pretty hard as his shoulder was still aching.

  He walked away thinking of different methods for avoiding such attacks, but also about what the planet people were and how that picture was going to help him get back home to his vegetable garden. Seth tried to remember the route Oxford had told him: left, straight and then the third right, through a small gate (that should be unlocked), the second exit on the left after the gate, and then first right. Seth thought he had found the gate, but it was locked. Impatient with exhaustion, he blew the gate off its hinges and continued to follow Oxford’s route. Eventually he found the cot, lying in the corner of a small bare room. There was a green, metal box at the foot of his bed, but there was some metal device keeping it shut.

  Seth lay down on the cot, finding it a bit uncomfortable, but still better than the floor Katja had offered him the other night. As Seth was lying down he heard his stomach start to rumble. He remembered he still had some russocks left from the pilm shop earlier. He put his hand in one of his pockets and pulled out a small sticky bag dripping with purple juice. Inside was an inedible mass of squished berries. Seth used his apple seed ring and summoned three bright green apples, then feasted on the crunchy, sour fruits. He placed the remains of the apples in the small paper bag next to the bed, thinking that he would have to learn how to make matter disappear soon too. It was something he had not predicted would be so useful, but it had come up more than a few times now. His eyes closed before his brain began its usual inner monologue — it used to keep him awake for hours, but nowadays Seth’s adventuring ensured he was too exhausted to worry about such things.

 
Seth woke up to a stranger looming over him. Seth blinked a few times. His surroundings came into focus and he saw it was yet another man dressed in white with virtually no hair on his head or chin.

  “What garr ast?” Seth asked, still half asleep; he didn’t realise he was speaking pure gibberish. He was actually finding it harder to wake up after getting a decent amount of sleep — although without the usual sunset/sunrise system he wasn’t even sure how long he had been asleep. The aching in his muscles gave him the idea it had been a long time. The bald man lurched over Seth.

  “What? Wake up boy! Oxford wants to see you.”

  Seth stretched his muscles a bit and yawned loudly before swinging his feet from the bed to the floor. He put his sandals back on, pocketed his rubbish and stood up. He started to ask, “where is –,“ but the bald resistance member turned around and interrupted.

  “Follow me. Oxford is waiting for you in the dining hall.” The man said as he had his back turned.

  Seth was still waking up, but he was not so far into the dream world that he didn’t register the word “dining”. The apples Seth had eaten must have provided very little nutrition because his stomach was growling audibly as he followed the resistance member. When they arrived at the dining hall, Seth saw four long tables, each with an equally long bench on either side. The benches were seating about fifty resistance members, all wearing white and virtually all of them hairless. Some were wearing white hats, which covered their hair, or lack of it. Everybody in the dining hall was eating the same grey slop. The smell of it reached Seth’s nose and he was very unimpressed, but also very hungry. He would give it a try.

  The resistance members had barely acknowledged Seth’s arrival. He wasn’t sure if Oxford had even informed them that today they would be marching against the Inquirers. Oxford was easy to find among the crowd; he was the only one with any sort of hair decorating his face. Next to Oxford was a vacant spot on the bench. Seth stepped over it and seated himself, finding a bowl of the grey stew waiting for him. He gripped the spoon lying next to the bowl, scooped out a small sample, sniffed at it and looked at Oxford. He was about to ask what it was, but Oxford anticipated his question.