by Mark Jeffrey
It was the same with the man in the shop window.
And it was the same with the housewife, just now pulling up and parking.
Everywhere Max looked, there were hollow, ashen faces.
Even the dogs seemed on edge. Their tales did not wag. And they did not approach people. Instead, they hugged the walls as they trotted by, as if afraid they might be kicked at any moment.
“Come with me,” Marvin Sparkle said with a growl. “I want to show you something.”
He beckoned Max to follow him up to a hospital. Tired of seeing the tiredness in everyone’s eyes, Max followed. Maybe there was hope somewhere inside this place.
He was led to a room inside the hospital filled with people with bandages over their eyes. For some, it was both eyes; others, just one. The mood and setup was almost like a church service — everyone face towards a stage in the front. On it stood a doctor in a white coat, clearly proud of whatever was going on.
And above him, as always, in a very large picture frame the size of several men, was the grim golden mask of the Bondsman against a blood red background.
Max wanted to throw up.
But his room was filled with weeping and hope, that was clear. Whatever was about to happen, it was a big deal to the people with the bandaged eyes.
“And now,” the doctor said. “Remove the gauze. Carefully! Carefully!”
The crowd complied. Some did it themselves; others were assisted by family members.
There were gasps of delight from each as they did so. Some blinked and looked around the room — some appeared to be seeing for the very first time — they were not sure what the shapes and swirls of color around them were, but it was clear they were experiencing them. As family members spoke and they connected the voice with the shape, wonderment flooded their faces. Tears flowed, frantic hugs were exchanged.
“What’s going on?” Max whispered.
“They have all just had eye surgery,” Marvin Sparkle replied in his breathy African accent. “Cataract removal. But without anesthesia in many cases — the Bondsman will not allow it, it must be smuggled and there is a high price. He enjoys making people exchange pain for hope. It has been a very long ordeal for these people.”
Max nodded, disgusted, itching to wring the Bondsman’s neck.
But then the noise died down. The doctor set up a microphone on the stage. But he did so oddly; he faced it away from the crowd.
One by one, the newly-sighted formed a line and approached the stage.
The first was an old woman. She tottered up the stairs and the doctor adjusted the mic stand to her height.
Max thought surely she would thank the doctor. She would kiss his hands in gratitude for such a gift as sight. But she didn’t even give him a glance with her newly minted eyes. Instead, she directed her attention to the giant auric face.
“Oh, my Bondsman!” she exclaimed, tears almost spurting out of her eyes in one big sloppy burst of emotion. “I can gaze upon your beautiful face once again for the first time in years! Oh, how I thank you for my sight! How I thank you for the vision of you! I am just an old woman, so I do not know how I can ever repay you. But name your price — anything, anything, anything, and it is yours. The hardest part of my blindness has been not being able to see you, my lord and Bondsman. Praise be to you! Praise be to you!” She bowed low and then sank to her knees in prostration.
The crowd erupted in enthusiastic applause. Eyes were wet with tears and sobs. The claps were frantic, as if one could not possibly fit enough claps into a single second to express the depth of love the Bondsman deserved.
Max was stunned. “But it was the doctor that —“
“The Bondsman always gets credit for anything,” Sparkle growled. “If it rains and the crops grow, it was the Bondsman who made it rain. If you find a penny in the street, it was the Bondsman who left it there for you. And if you are in pain and you die in your sleep, it was the Bondsman who mercifully released you from the pain of life.”
“But the Bondsman is torturing these people!” Max protested. “It’s his fault that everything is the way it is. Why don’t they hate him?”
Sparkle gaze him a wry look. “But the Bondsman is never responsible for anything bad. Don’t you know that?”
Max scrutinized her as she stepped from the stage. She hadn’t even thanked the doctor second or acknowledged him. Was she faking this? Was she just scared and saying what everyone expected her to say so as not to cause trouble?
It didn’t seem like it, Max concluded. She was genuinely touched, moved. And not by her sight — it was actually because she had seen the Bondsman. Her face was scrunched up in some kind of ecstatic experience.
She loved the Bondsman.
But how —? Why —?
Her grandchildren approached. She acknowledged them blandly, as if they were an afterthought — and looked back at the giant portrait with the golden face, another sigh of love rolling across her face.
Next came a young woman. She was in her teens, but already her back was stooped as though her spine were twisted. She, too, hobbled to the microphone and ignored the doctor as if he were invisible.
She exploded in emotion. She shouted with a raw, ragged voice, soaked in tears.
“Oh, my lord and Bondsman! I thank you with all my heart! With my new sight, I will work twice as hard in the mines, to bring you ever more joy!”
Max’s stomach twisted. This was wrong, wrong, wrong. That poor girl! Her back had probably been wrecked by stooping all day, every day in those mines. What kind of life was that?
“They work fourteen hours a day,” Sparkle whispered. “Sometimes sixteen.”
Sixteen?!? That only left six hours for sleep a night, probably less than that if you threw in meals and time to get dressed. They must be continuously exhausted.
“Every day?”
Sparkle nodded. “Unless they collapse or get sick … or go blind.”
So there were never any weekends. Max thought about this and then said, “Why don’t they just stay blind. At least then they wouldn’t have to work like a slave.”
Sparkle flashed him a penetrating look with his coal-and-ivory eyes. “But that would not be pleasing to their Bondsman. Life is about giving the Bondsman joy. How can you do that — if you’re blind?”
Max sank. It was such a sick way to think. He couldn’t comprehend it. These people actually deeply loved their oppressor.
On impulse, Max approached an old man nearby. He half thought Sparkle might try to stop him, but when he looked back, Sparkle made gesture and a face that said, Go ahead, if you must. It won’t matter.
“Excuse me,” Max said to the man. “Hi. I have a question.”
“Yes?” the man replied.
“The Bondsman. The guy in the picture up there.”
“Oh yes!” the man’s face lit up like a child presented with an ice cream cone. “Yes. Yes. What can I tell you of his lovely magnificence?”
Fighting down his bile, Max asked: “What happens if he does something wrong?”
The man looked confused. Max thought he might be troubled by the thought.
“I don’t understand,” the man replied.
“Well, what if the Bondsman made a mistake. Or — or did something evil. What if he killed a bunch of people or something? Or lied to you? What would you say to that?”
The man again looked perplexed. “I am sorry, but I don’t understand the question.” The man wasn’t angry, Max noted. He hadn’t touched a nerve or offended him.
“I’m asking that — just hypothetically — what if the Bondsman were to go insane and start bombing your cities randomly? What if he starting stealing your children? Think of the worst thing you can think of and then imagine the Bondsman doing that. Would your feelings about him change?”
The man’s eyes glazed over. “I am sorry young man, but your questions don’t make any sense.” And with that, he returned his gaze to the Bondsman’s portrait.
Max back
ed away, stunned. These people could not even conceive of the Bondsman doing anything wrong! They lacked the language to describe it, much as Enlil had once tried to limit human vocabulary so that it could not contain anything he found rebellious.
When he rejoined Marvin Sparkle, the giant black man rumbled quietly, “Once in an alleyway back in 1912, I tried to kill a small boy. Do you remember?” Max nodded, numb. “Yes, you may think me terrible for trying to do such a thing. But it was only one small boy! Such a small price to pay! And if I had succeeded, all of this you see before you — all this suffering, all this twisted hope — would never have come to pass.
“Now do you see why I tried to kill you? Now do you finally understand?”
Max nodded dumbly. It was true. He actually did.
If he knew then what he knew now, Max realized that he may have just let Sparkle complete the job.
Just then there was a commotion outside. Max and Sparkle quickly ran out of the hospital. The usually dour townspeople of Iron Valley were running and screaming in all directions. Instinctively, Max looked up.
Sky Chambers. Five of them. One swept in aggressively and landed in the town square.
Army guys poured out. Interesting, Max noted. Not centurions. Army guys. They quickly took up strategic positions all over the town, securing it. The four remaining Sky Chambers patrolled the airspace above.
Sparkle stood. He turned to Max. “Say nothing. But if anyone asks, say that you live here. And whatever you do, for heaven’s sake don’t use your power!”
Max nodded.
Now a tall, thin bald man emerged. He wore round sunglasses and a black trenchcoat.
“Fell Simon,” Sparkle spat the name.
“Who’s ‘Fell Simon’?” Max asked.
“The Bondsman’s head of secret police,” Sparkle replied. “Not a nice guy.”
“What?” Panic locked Max’s throat. “What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know,” Sparkle muttered darkly.
Sparkle considered this for a moment and then nodded out the window. “His real name is Simon de Valcourt. But everyone calls him Fell Simon. Because whenever he shows up, it’s a fell omen: people vanish into secret prisons, work camps.”
Work camps that were worse than this town?
Fell Simon wore a sour pout on his gaunt face. He placed a black Homburg hat on his skeletal head. One of the Army guys gave a couple of mean blasts from an air horn. Max and Sparkle both flinched at the ear-bleeding screech.
Then Fell Simon put a bullhorn to his lips.
“Attention, attention good citizens of …” He looked at a clipboard. “Ah yes. Citizens of Iron Valley. Please come out of your homes, your buildings, you cars, wherever you may be. We need to see everyone on the town green, stat! Let’s go, let’s go! Now, now, now!”
Obediently, doors opened. Springs stretched with a rusty metallic groan. People poured out. Screen doors banged with a wooden WHAP! whap … whap … whap.
A small mob had formed on the town green — one that now included Max and Sparkle. Fell Simon stepped up to the bandstand and surveyed the crowd. People milled around nervously. Old people. Young people. Even children. And fear stained each gaze.
A television news crew had arrived. Several cameramen and reporters were setting up shots.
“Start the search!” Fell Simon screamed into the bullhorn.
Army guys swung into motion. They kicked in doors. They smashed in windows. They entered town buildings, homes, and stores. They gun-butted windshields into twisting sheets of spider-webbed glass.
The crowd did not react. This was the hand of the Bondsman in their midst! They were honored, in a way. The Bondsman could do nothing wrong, so this must be necessary and they must bear it, no matter the cost.
“I know how delighted you all must be to have this opportunity to sacrifice for your Bondsman,” Fell Simon called out over the cacophony of splashing glass and snapping wood. “To have a chance to show him your thanks for all he has done for you. And he has need of your loyalty right now. You see he believes you have a traitor in your midst. The traitor of all traitors, as a matter of fact.”
Hands went to mouths. Eyes filled with tears. The Army guys were literally ripping the town apart, destroying it. But the eyes that teared up were not for the town, no. It was for the joy in having a chance to serve the Bondsman.
Fell Simon drew himself up to his full height and shouted through the bullhorn: “The Bondsman believes that none other than Max Quick himself is here – yes, here in Iron Valley!”
To Max’s surprise, everyone took a collective step backwards. The name ‘Max Quick’ seemed to terrify them. People within an arm’s length of him were literally shaking.
“Yes,” Fell Simon continued. “He’s in your town! He’s –”
But then, a disheveled woman emerged from a nearly shop. She straightened her hair and ran towards the green. The moment she appeared, Simon’s iron gaze fell on her. But he said nothing. As she waddled towards the crowd, he just watched if her very presence were somehow stupefying.
She looked up for a sliver of a second. Her eyes filled with water. She was incredibly terrified.
The television news crews scrambled to readjust their positions to get a good shot of her.
“You’re late,” Simon said at a fraction of a whisper, his soft voice electronically amplified by the bullhorn. This was somehow more unnerving than if he had simply screamed.
The woman could not look Simon in the eye. “Because – because my two girls are sick, sir! They couldn’t get out of bed!”
Simon appeared to consider this for a moment. Then he depressed the bullhorn’s trigger, unleashing a sudden shriek of feedback. Everyone felt their skin crawl. But Simon didn’t even blink.
Instead, he spoke with barely a whisper, saying only, “I see.”
The woman stood there, wishing desperately that this moment would end. But Simon did nothing to hurry it along. He simply watched her.
“So wh – what should I do?” she stammered.
“Do?” Simon replied softly through the bullhorn. “Why, I don’t know. What should you do?”
“Maybe … maybe someone should go get them?” she finally offered, looking a question at Simon.
“If you think that’s a good idea,” Simon said.
“Yes – yes. Do you think so?” she asked.
“I think so.”
The woman turned. But Fell Simon shouted at her back: “Not you, you imbecile!”
She froze in place.
“Did I say you?”
“N – n – no,” she blubbered, turning and crouching.
“N – n – no, I didn’t. That’s correct,” Simon cruelly mocked her stutter. Then, he turned and shouted. “Colonel! Get this woman’s daughters out here. I don’t care how sick they are, I want to see everyone on this town green! Do you hear me? Everyone! Ev. Er. Y. One!”
“Yes, sir!” the Colonel replied.
“And you,” Simon said to the woman. “You know the penalty for being late.”
She burst into hysterics. “Please! No! My daughters need me! You can’t!”
Two Army guys picked her up and gruffly escorted her to the Sky Chamber. She twisted and wailed. The sound of her lamentation echoed off Mirror Lake.
Max rocked on the balls of his feet.
This was intolerable!
His skin itched with stars. One short blast, and this Fell Simon guy would be an awful lot more polite.
Seeming to sense this, Sparkle grabbed him by the arm with one massive paw. He squeezed so tightly Max felt his bicep throb with interrupted circulation.
No, he mouthed. Do not.
An Army guy approached the bandstand. Fell Simon leaned down. The Army guy whispered something in his ear. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.
Fell Simon raised the bullhorn again. “Okay. Who heads up the town council here?”
An elderly man in suspenders stepped forward. “I do.”
“Theodore. Theodore Jebediah Griswold,” the man replied. “The Third.”
“Like the nearby Young Explorer camp,” Simon said wanly.
“Why, yes. It was my grandfather who –”
“Well. Theodore. Teddy. Teddy Three. Let me ask you something. Who else is hiding in your town buildings? Are you hiding Max Quick?”
“What?” Theodore was taken aback. “Did you say … Max Quick? The Enemy? Why … why, no! Of course not. I love my Bondsman! If we didn’t have the Bondsman and his state, why, why then life wouldn’t be worth living!” Theodore seemed absolutely sincere in every syllable.
“Well. We can’t find him,” Fell Simon complained. “He’s here, but we can’t find him. So why is that?”
Theodore snapped his suspenders nervously. “I’m not sure. Your coming here … that was the first we hear of it. We didn’t know that –”
WHAMM!
There was a monsterous noise. And a second later, a quick slap of wind and the rattle of street sand.
It took Max a moment to realize that one of the Sky Chambers had just dropped out of the sky. No, more than ‘dropped’. Scratch that. It had rushed towards the ground at near lightspeed, like it was composed of the heaviest material in the universe.
It had utterly crushed the Town Hall.
Presently, the Sky Chamber lifted lazily from the dusty rubble.
The place where the Town Hall had been mere seconds ago was now perfectly flat. The Hall had vanished, like a dark magic trick. There was nothing left. All of the bricks had been powdered and slammed into the earth. Max could even see Mirror Lake just beyond.
“You were saying, Teddy?” Fell Simon continued, regarding his fingernails.
“I … I … you …” Theodore stammered.
“Well? Shall I continue to pancake your town?” Fell Simon’s gaze leapt upon Theodore Jebediah Griswold like a wild animal. “If we can’t find Max Quick, we’ll keep going – just make sure we kill him.”
Max took a step forward.
He would turn himself into Fell Simon, and stop all of this. But Marvin Sparkle’s voice suddenly appeared in his mind.
If you turn yourself in, it is true you might save this town, but you will condemn the rest of the world to live under the Bondsman. You cannot do it!
