Diverse Energies

by Joe Monti Tobias S. Buckell

  Ravi fled, head down, past the beds full of boys, their eyes staring vacantly. As he climbed the stairs to where all the boys slept, he wiped a trickle of blood from his nose.

  At the evening meal, Ravi sat next to Noosa, as usual, darkness shadowing his thoughts. He wondered if they would be able to discover that the cave-in was his fault. He wondered if his golly was damaged. He wondered if the loss in productivity would be attributed to him. Despite the blandness of the stewed beans, his mouth tasted bitter.

  “Did you hear what Itchy said?” Noosa asked. He was all smiles. He’d received a letter from home, and his minder had read it to him before the evening meal.

  Ravi shook his head, happy to focus on something else.

  “He said that Little Osef moved on to the girl’s pen.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Ravi said.

  “He said that he’s teaching the girls how to operate gollies.”

  “Itchy likes to tell tales.” It wasn’t even a good one. Everyone knew that girls weren’t allowed to drive gollies. He’d heard that some learned to operate tele-gollies, but he’d never heard of a girl in the mines.

  “Well, I wouldn’t mind a job like that,” Noosa said. “Can you imagine? One of him, all those girls . . .” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and mimed fanning himself.

  Ravi frowned. “What’s that?”

  Noosa flashed a sly smile. He leaned forward. “It’s my letter from home.”

  “They gave it to you?”

  Noosa’s smile widened. “Nah. But someone stopped by to see Minder Frederick before I left, and I swiped it. I thought you could help me read it. Something real.”

  “Okay,” Ravi said. He was hoping that it would distract him from thoughts of the mine. At the very least it was a window into a world that he didn’t normally see.

  When they were back at the flop, Noosa brought out the letter, and together they went through it, word by word. Noosa had heard it already from his minder, but he was happy to read it again. Ravi understood. He wished he had copies of the letters from home.

  As they went through it, Ravi realized that it was similar to his own letters — inquiries about how Noosa was, talk of the family, weather, village life — but as Ravi read on, he realized it sounded too typical. Lines from the letter sounded so familiar, as if they could have come from one of his letters. As Noosa tussled with the last few sentences, Ravi read through it a second time, noticing the lack of specific details. Activities, events, even people were mentioned generally. The family was doing well, not individuals. When talking about the village, there were again no mentions of specific people and no references to local holidays. With a start, Ravi realized that there was nothing to indicate that it really was from Noosa’s family. It could have been handed to any of the boys there, and they would believe it was for them.

  “What’s wrong?” Noosa said, looking at him.

  “Nothing,” Ravi said. “I just . . . have a headache.”

  “Me, too,” Noosa said. “They’ve been getting worse lately. Do you think it’s from all the reading?”

  “No,” Ravi said. “Not at all. It must be something else.”

  Noosa shrugged and carefully placed the letter underneath his sleeping mat. “Thanks,” he said, then rolled over to go to sleep.

  Ravi did the same, but his sleep was troubled.

  He talked to some of the other boys at the morning meal the next day. Asked them about their letters. Discretely, he hoped. All indicated similar topics. One or two claimed that specific family members had been named, but on further questioning, Ravi thought they might just be remembering wrong, as the content seemed largely the same from letter to letter.

  He remembered asking Minder Charles once if he had ever been to Drina.

  “Me?” Charles said, surprised. “No. I can’t say that I have. Though I have spent a lot of time here with you lot. Drinans and Arvins and Chand alike. Why?”

  “Just wondering,” Ravi had said.

  Then the transfer crown had come down, and Ravi’s world became the golly.

  Minder Charles looked worried as Ravi reported to him the next morning. “Is everything all right?” Ravi asked.

  “No,” Charles said. “Your golly still hasn’t been recovered. And we fear that it might be damaged. The Overseer approved you to be linked to a new golly.”

  “A new one?”

  Charles smiled. “The Overseer tells me it’s newly constructed. But you’ll need to be linked to it.”

  “What do I have to do?” Ravi said.

  “It will take most of day,” Charles said. “You’ll need to visit the doctor, and he’ll need to do an examination of you. Then the Magus will create the link.”

  “Then I can get back into the mines?”

  Charles frowned. “The examination . . . it will take a lot out of you. You’ll need some time to recover. And the link will take some time to set up. If everything goes well, we’ll get you in as soon as possible.”

  Ravi nodded, but inside, his thoughts swirled darkly. The Archmagus was coming to visit soon. What if Ravi’s numbers were far below the other boys’? He wouldn’t stay in the mines forever. He couldn’t.

  He reported to the doctor as told. Dr. Umber was a tall, thin man, with pale skin and paler hair that came down into a sharp point over his forehead. “Lie down on the table,” he instructed. Ravi did so.

  “Now, we’ll need to take some time with you to get you ready for the new golly,” Umber said. “To make it easier on you, I’ll be putting you to sleep. Just relax. You’ll be done in no time.” Umber’s smile revealed yellow teeth. As Ravi was staring at them, the man slid a needle into his arm. He felt the cold metal slide underneath his skin. Then as the pain built, he felt a cold flush in the limb and then nothing.

  When he woke, his head ached and his limbs felt like sodden logs. Moving golly limbs seemed easier than moving his own. As he rubbed his head, he felt a fresh bandage on the back of his head, near where his original scar was. He winced at the fresh pain as his fingers caressed the new wound. Something to do with the link, no doubt.

  “You back with us?” Dr. Umber said, leaning over him. “Good. We’re all done here. You can return to the common room now. Your head may be a little sore, but that will pass. If you feel anything more than what you’re feeling now, let one of the Minders know. Okay?”

  Ravi nodded.

  He passed Magus Sharpe on the way out. The Magus scowled at him. Probably for the extra work that Ravi was causing. Ravi ignored him and went straight to his flop.

  It was still a few hours until the evening meal, so he lay down on his mat. He realized that this had been the most time he’d spent not driving a golly since he had arrived at the pen. His thoughts swarmed like dark flies. He thought of the letters. Were they all shams? The letters kept the boys working hard. With the idea that money was being sent back to their families. Did that mean the money wasn’t reaching them? Was it deliberate or just laziness?

  He chewed on this until it was time for the evening meal, and then he rejoined the other boys at the long wooden tables. “Where you been?” Noosa asked.

  “They’re giving me a new golly,” Ravi said.

  “Really?” Noosa said, and Ravi heard the envy in his voice. He was disturbed by a coughing fit. “What’s the matter? You wreck the last one?”

  “It got stuck in a cave-in,” Ravi insisted.

  Noosa shrugged. “You’ll need it to catch up,” he said, his mouth full of beans. “You must be dropping behind.”

  When they returned to the flop and Ravi curled up on his mat, he couldn’t stop thinking about the letters. If they were lying about them, what else were they lying about?

  It became too much for him to bear, there on his mat. He carefully rose to his feet and padded over to the flop’s door. Drivers weren’t allowed out of the flop at night, but some of the boys were able to sneak out from time to time, mostly to scavenge for food scraps or whatever else they coul
d find. Itchy had even found a mouse (some said a rat) once that they’d tried to train before it had run off.

  Carefully, Ravi slipped through the doorway and down the stairs. He crept along the hallways, stopping whenever he heard footsteps. The boots that the minders and the other staff wore heralded their appearance. Meanwhile, his bare feet made almost no noise.

  He headed for where he had once been told the tele-golly was. There, maybe he would find answers. He slipped through hallway after hallway, often ducking into doorways or around corners to avoid detection.

  At last he came to the door that was supposed to lead out of their part of the facility. Beyond lay the girls’ quarters as well as the tele-golly. None of the drivers had ever seen beyond this door.

  He reached a trembling, thin hand out to the handle.

  Then fingers gripped his shoulder and he jumped, his heart beating impossibly fast. He shook so much he thought he would explode.

  He looked back into the face of Magus Sharpe.

  Sharpe grabbed him firmly by the hand and dragged him down the hallway. Ravi could barely hear, could barely think over the sound of his heart pounding, the beats reverberating through his body. His skin flushed with blood and heat, and he followed without a struggle.

  He was caught.

  Magus Sharpe opened a door and pushed him inside. Then closed it behind him. Ravi huddled on the ground, his arms up, waiting for the blows to fall.

  “What were you doing?” the magus demanded.

  “I was . . . I was looking for the tele-golly.”

  “Why?”

  Ravi could not meet the magus’s eyes. “I just —”

  Sharpe bent down until he was level with Ravi and gripped him by the shoulders. “Why?”

  Ravi squeezed his eyes shut. Some of the boys said the magus had powers other than those that joined boys to gollies.

  “Ravi,” Sharpe said.

  “I was looking for a letter,” Ravi blurted.

  Sharpe frowned, then let Ravi go. “One of yours?”

  “Anyone’s,” Ravi said. “I wanted to see what it said.”

  Sharpe narrowed his eyes. “You know, don’t you? About the letters.”

  Ravi remained silent. He had said too much.

  Magus Sharpe seemed lost in other thoughts. Then his eyes snapped back to Ravi. “You’re right,” he said. “The letters aren’t real. They’re written here. They’re not from your families.”

  “What?” Ravi said. He couldn’t believe the magus was telling him this.

  “You’re a clever one, Ravi,” the magus said. He nodded. “You can help me.”

  “Help you how?”

  “You are in a unique position right now, Ravi. Today you were linked to a new golly. One that’s still here.”

  “Tomorrow they’ll send it to the mines.”

  “I think not.”

  “Why?”

  “Tomorrow the Archmagus visits.”

  “I don’t understand,” Ravi said.

  “You know that something is wrong here,” Sharpe said. “You know about the letters. Doesn’t it make you want to stop all of this? I’ve been working, with others, to stop it.”

  “The mining?”

  “The whole system. The primosite. The Imperium. Every day boys and girls like you are being stolen from their families. No stipends are being sent to them. They bring you to places like this where they work you — on the gollies or on other machines. But it wears you down. Most golly drivers don’t live to manhood. Eventually it will drain you enough that it will kill you. And then another boy will take your place.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Ravi said.

  “It’s true,” the man said. “I could show you a room where they bring those boys too worn down by this. The younger you are, the easier it is, but as you age, it takes more and more out of you. Which is why they need an endless supply of children.”

  Ravi shook his head. They were supposed to be freed if they worked hard enough. Given pensions. Freedom to return to their families. Or else respected jobs in the Imperium. But he thought about all of the faces of the minders and the overseers. They were pale faces. The only brown he saw was the skin of the other boys.

  Cold settled into the pit of Ravi’s stomach. This secret was big. Too big. He was in danger. “Please,” he said. “Let me go back. I won’t say anything to anyone.”

  Sharpe shook his head. “Don’t you see, Ravi? This needs to be stopped. And I can only do so much from the inside. I need your help. Your help to make things change. To make them better for boys like you.”

  Ravi thought of Noosa, thought of his younger cousins back home. “What can I do?” Ravi asked. “I’m just a driver.”

  “Exactly,” Sharpe said.

  Sharpe took Ravi to another room. This one was large and painted all over — floors, ceiling, and walls — with symbols much like those on the transfer crowns. Standing in a large circle was a golly. Ravi couldn’t help staring at it. It looked different through his own eyes. Its brassy body was massive. Two thick legs held it up and the two powerful arms sprang from the torso like tree branches. The goggle-like eyes lent it a serious look.

  “This is where I form the links,” Magus Sharpe said. “Earlier today, I linked you to your new golly.”

  “How?” Ravi asked.

  “The particulars would take too long to explain, but there’s a ritual. And . . . it requires your brain tissue.”

  “What?” Ravi said.

  Sharpe looked at him, then away. “That’s how the link is created. We take a piece of your brain, and they put it in the golly. It’s how control is established.”

  Ravi rubbed at the new bandage on the back of his head. “They took part of my brain?”

  “They do it to all of you,” Sharpe said. “Every one.”

  And they did it to me twice, Ravi thought. Sharpe held out the crown. “We can see if you can make the transfer.”

  “What about the chair? And the machines?”

  Sharpe shook his head. “The chair just facilitates the transfer. The only necessary element is the crown. It is made with a primosite alloy.”

  Ravi let Sharpe place the crown on his head. A moment later he was seeing through the eyes of the golly. He moved the head down, looking at the top of Magus Sharpe’s head. Then he saw himself lying on the floor. Was he really that thin? His long, brown limbs crossed over his bony chest. His mop of black hair fell in a messy heap around his head. The magus’s words from earlier came back to him — about the boys dying. All of them.

  He spoke and saw his mouth move. “I want to see what happened to Atul,” he said.

  The magus shook his head and moved to the crown, ready to remove it.

  Ravi moved the golly toward Sharpe, blocking his body. “Show me.”

  Sharpe gritted his teeth. Then nodded. “But first you have to come back.”

  Ravi pulled the golly away, and a moment later he was back in his body, the magus holding the crown. “Follow me,” he said.

  Magus Sharpe led him through corridors and rooms unfamiliar to him. The boys were not allowed in these. Sharpe wheeled out a long cart with a blanket on it. “Get on,” he said. “And be quiet.”

  Ravi did so, and the magus wheeled him farther into the corridors. They turned once, then again, and he heard a door opening. Then they stopped, and Sharpe pulled the blanket down from his face. Ravi sat up to see rows and rows of long metal tables. The room was cold, too. He could see his breath puff out in front of him, and his skin bubbled with gooseflesh.

  Sharpe pushed Ravi to a wall of small, square metal doors. The magus looked at him with his piercing eyes, then opened one of the doors. He pulled out a long tray upon which was a boy — all brown skin and gangly limbs. He was dead. It was Suresh, the driver who had had the fit. Ravi walked to the next door and opened it, pulled out the tray. Another boy who had supposedly moved on.

  “They are brought here when they start to fail,” the magus said. “The minders make
up some story about them moving on, but the truth is that your bodies just can’t handle it. All that primosite energy. They use boys like you because you work best with the transfers, but it also burns you down like a candle.”

  Ravi thought of all the boys in his village who had been sent to places like this. All the other villages in Drina, in Arvind, in Chand. And maybe other places, too, where the Imperium had spread. So many children. They could always bring in more.

  “It’s an evil system,” Magus Sharpe said. “And the Archmagus is one of the men behind it. He helped develop the binding, using the brain tissue to link you to the gollies. He’s the one who produced the crowns. He is one of the men who must be stopped.”