by Kir Lukovkin
“We had a curious catch yesterday. Some plague monkeys rolled down from above. Take a look!”
He banged a wrench on the bars of the cage.
Rick got himself ready. He was not afraid—there was no point to be scared ahead of time. This was something he already learned back in the Commune.
“Hey, monkey!” the stocky man shouted. “Do you know how to talk?”
“Yes.”
“You're so well trained!”
The workers started laughing. The silent stranger in the orange jumpsuit brought up a tub full of nuts and bolts, and the stocky man started throwing them, aiming at Rick and saying, “Do you know how to walk on your hind legs? Can you do tricks?”
“I'll show you a trick,” Rick muttered through clenched teeth and threw his bowl at him.
The bowl would have definitely hit the stocky man in the head, but it was too wide to get through the bars of the cage and bounced off with a loud clang.
The stocky man recoiled inadvertently, and the workers laughed even louder.
“Not bad,” he said. “I will give you a chance. But not today. Tommo!” he addressed his companion in the orange jumpsuit. “Bring him something to eat, he looks like he could be broken in half with one finger.”
Tommo nodded. Rick noticed several people that wore similar masks and jumpsuits to Tommo in the crowd. All of them wore gloves on their hands, without exception.
“But not now,” the stocky man warned. “Later. Let the boys have their fun.”
He smiled a predatory smile, showing two rows of strong and even teeth and left, leaving Rick alone with the workers, who did not leave him waiting and started to throw dirty rags and pieces of machine parts while shouting insults.
Rick tried to angrily answer back, but soon worked out that it was exactly what was expected of him—helpless aggression gave special pleasure to these people. Then he stayed quiet and turned his back on them. The workers soon lost any interest in him, as they understood that they wouldn't get anything from him. The noise in the production unit gradually quietened down and everyone went on their way. The bright lamps on the walls went out, a pair of red emergency lights came on somewhere far away and Tommo appeared in front of the cage. He put his hand between the bars and threw a concentrated ration briquette inside, as well as putting down a mug of water.
Well, food was strength. Rick nodded his thanks and started to eat. He would definitely need his strength tomorrow. Once he finished the ration and drunk the water, he sat for a while, staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes, the thoughts in his head crawling around like cockroaches until he stretched out on the floor and quickly went to sleep...
The next day was empty of any events. Tommo brought bowls of gray mass or concentrated ration and water, while Rick ate everything he was given, carefully observing Tommo and the workers. He tried to talk to Tommo once, but was unsuccessful, he just never answered questions or reacted to taunts. One time, this strange quiet man in an orange jumpsuit jumped on a wall and crawled along it to the ceiling to free a chain stuck in a lifting crane. Rick could not believe his eyes—Tommo scrambled up the wall like a large spider, quickly moving his hands and feet.
Next morning, he was woken up by a metallic clang. The light haired man stood by the bars and banged on it with his wrench. Rick suddenly remembered the speeches Croesus made about infiltrators from above. Now he understood what the barbarians from the higher sectors that were caught by the Patrol must have felt.
“Good morning, monkey!”
The stocky man opened the door of the cage, stepped aside and made an inviting gesture.
“If you please.”
Rick stepped out, trying to be impassive, and they set off through the crowd towards the gates leading out of the production unit. There was another production unit behind the gates, which differed to the previous one through the placement of the machine tools and the lines with the manipulator arms. After passing through, Rick guessed that this was a typical radial corridor. There were narrow windows in the floor, through which the rooms below could be seen. Everything was full of life. People in dirty yellow robes were hard at work on something, with cargo carts wheeling by.
They exited the tunnel into a spacious hall, where the light of the lamps dissipated under the high ceiling. The walls of the hall were covered with galleries and observation platforms crowded with people. There was a column in the center of the hall, crowned with a bust which was the height of two men, cast of metal and partly covered with red at the top, with a mouth painted into a toothed maw and a third eye scrawled on the forehead. Women danced a ritual dance around the column, bare down to their waists with necklaces of nuts around their necks.
“Hail to the Red King!” the stocky man shouted.
The women interrupted their dance.
“Hail!” an uneven chorus of voices replied.
The spectators on the observation platforms lowered themselves onto their knees and bowed down to the floor. Having completed the greeting, all rose, and an old man stepped forward towards the stocky man and shouted “We greet you, Cornelius!”
The stocky man raised his hand with the wrench over his head and exclaimed, “The Reactor must live!”
“Must live!” everyone around shouted back.
“The Reactor must be fed!”
“Must be fed!”
“It needs the souls of sinners! Let the Red King judge who has sinned on this day!”
“Let it be so!”
Cornelius jumped up onto a raised platform. The crowd stepped back, looking at their leader.
“All are equal in our Brotherhood. Everyone has the right to live. And everyone has the freedom to die. We can make a great choice. Who is ready?”
A dozen tough looking young men and women stepped forward, their grim and concentrated faces full of determination.
“Excellent! Now, look at him,” Cornelius pointed at Rick. “Answer, are you a human?”
“I am a human,” Rick replied.
“And are you a righteous man?”
Laughter and whispers.
“Yes.”
“If that is so, we shall test this. Only the righteous achieve victory before the eyes of the Red King. You have two roads out of here—life or death. Make your choice.”
Rick smiled grimly. The people of this sector did not know him and did not know what he was capable of. This was his advantage.
“I choose life.”
“Excellent!” Cornelius seemed to be happy with the way things were going. “Had you chosen death, it would have been immediately obvious that you are a righteous man. The sinners always choose life.”
Rick lost his patience.
“Enough talk!” he shouted. “What do you want?”
“To be sure which of us is right. Only one wins in a dispute. Choose your opponent!”
“Choose me,” a toothless old man wheezed from the crowd. “I will give you a quick death!”
An explosion of laughter.
Let them laugh, it was obvious that they were not seeing this sort of spectacle for the first time. These people were looking at him as if he was already dead, as if the result of the combat was already assured. Men, women, grandfathers and grandmothers—at least they had the sense not to bring children here.
Rick could help but shudder when he saw Maya among the crowd. He barely recognized her—her hair had been cut short, she was wearing a filthy robe and silently looking at him. Her eyes were full of worry and the desire to help.
“If you are a righteous man,” Cornelius added, “then you have the right to be with us. But you must earn your place. Choose!”
“Then I choose you.” Rick pointed his finger straight at him.
“Think well, if you want to survive even a minute!” someone shouted from the crowd. “Cornelius will tear you to pieces!”
“I choose him, and that's that!” Rick paused. “Or are you afraid of me?”
A sharp breath reverberated around the
entire hall. Cornelius' steel eyes glinted coldly.
“Excellent! Before the face of the Red King we shall start and end this dispute here and now.”
Everyone immediately backed away from the place of the coming battle. Someone threw Cornelius a chain, which he caught and started to spin around above his head, swinging his wrench in his other hand.
Rick understood that he would not get help from anywhere. Even Maya was helpless to do anything. He threw a quick glance in her direction. Maya was choking back tears, crushed between the onlookers in the crowd that were supporting Cornelius with shout of encouragement.
“End him!”
“What're you waiting for?”
“Come on!”
Cornelius made a couple of feints and then rapidly attacked head on. The chain crashed into the place where Rick had been a moment ago with a loud clang. He managed to jump away into a roll just in time, and then get up, to immediately crouch down again. The chain whistled above his head, ruffling his hair.
“So, come on then, monkey! Come on!” Cornelius yelled. “Brave monkey!”
They continued to circle on the platform, piercing each other with eyes full of hatred. Someone tried to trip Rick up, but Rick felt the threat and jumped to the side, almost getting caught by another strike from Cornelius. Then came another failed attempt to knock him off his feet, which sent Cornelius into a rage. A series of strikes crashed down upon Rick, but none of them hit the target.
The crowd howled in ecstasy. Cornelius was so furious that he growled. Rick began to run out of breath, took a misstep and barely stayed on his feet. However, this saved his life—the wrench cut through the air where his head had been a moment ago. He jumped up and struck Cornelius with his fist to the body. He put the remainder of his strength into the punch. Cornelius grunted and jumped back a pace, rubbing at his side, giving Rick time to catch his breath.
The crowd suddenly quietened, entranced as they watched the opponents. Cornelius did not keep anyone waiting, and attacked again, which was met with shouts of encouragement. He was very strong and no longer gave Rick any time to rest, even though he still could not reach him with his chain or wrench.
“Tear his head off!” the most impatient spectators shouted.
“Gut him, Cornelius!”
“Smash him to a pulp!”
Sweat poured into Rick's eyes and his lungs were burning. He wheezed, breathing out every time that he dodged and attack. And he got more and more tired... A moment—an attack. A miss. Another lunge. He tripped over himself and this was the moment Cornelius appeared right by him, crashing the wrench into his shoulder, making him fall to his knees and cry out in pain.
Rick frenziedly struck back, hitting Cornelius with his hand on his hip, but he never even noticed, threw down the chain and struck out with the wrench again, this time to the face, crushing Rick's nose and lips. Then he grabbed him by the neck with his hand and jerked him upwards so that he was hanging above the platform.
Rick was ineffectually jerking his legs, unable to move his broken shoulder and trying to get out—but Cornelius had a powerful grip. He was slowly crushing Rick's neck with his strong fingers.
“Finish him!” the spectators screamed, clapping their hands and whistling. “End him!”
Cornelius bent forward, looking Rick straight in the eye and quietly said, “I will keep your girlfriend for myself.”
Then he brought his hand sharply downwards, smashing Rick's head into the floor.
The world drowned in a red haze. He did not even have the strength to get up and only managed to turn onto his back.
Cornelius grabbed the wrench with both hands, raised it above his head and froze.
“In the name of the Red King!” he addressed the crowd. “Brotherhood of Sigma and Tau! I give this sacrifice to the Reactor!”
Rick looked at the ceiling dully—this was it, this was the end. There was no point in begging for mercy. He was saying his mental farewells to his sister and to the Commune. What was Aurora doing right now? Maybe she was listening to old Kyoto's fairy tales. Or maybe the Committee had come for her and... His sister needed him, and he promised to return! A horrible premonition forced him to try moving his healthy arm—he had to at least try. Rick turned his head and his hand felt the chain that Cornelius had dropped.
This was his chance!
The crowd was overjoyed. Cornelius started to lower the wrench, when Rick rolled onto all fours and swung the chain, wrapping its links around the neck of the big man. Cornelius still completed his strike, but the wrench slid along Rick's arm without causing any harm. The eyes of the huge man went wide and he instinctively grabbed the chain, trying to loosen its grip, and that was his mistake.
Rick rammed a knee into his stomach and then headbutted Cornelius in the nose, which immediately started to bleed. He jerked his opponent so he would have his back to him and struck him in his midriff, forcing him to bend his knees.
Cornelius started choking, and both fell onto the ground, with Rick pressing down on the big man with his body and not allowing him to breathe. Cornelius made a desperate attempt to turn and throw Rick off, but with no success.
The crowd roared. Rick raised his head for a moment—there was a serious fight going on around him as some wanted to stop him from killing Cornelius, while others were stopping them from interfering. Then, Rick pressed his knee into Cornelius' back, stretched the chain tight and loudly exclaimed so all could hear, “What do you choose? Life or death?”
Cornelius made croaking sounds.
“Tell me! What do you choose?”
The surrounding people went quiet, stopping their scuffle.
“L-let me go...”
“Do you want to live, or not? Tell me!”
“Live! I want to live!”
Rick threw down the chain and rose, with great difficulty. The world swam before his eyes, but his business was not over. He cast his dull eyes over the crowd and shouted, “Hey, you! I give your Cornelius as a gift to you! Take him.”
The people of the Sigma and Tau sectors looked at him silently. Contorted with pain, Rick raised his hand and his eyes found Maya. She was smiling happily and wiping away tears.
And elderly man stepped out towards Rick and said, “You have achieved victory. The Red King saw it all. Cornelius shall be given to the Reactor. You shall take his place. Such is the law.”
They were looking at Rick with a new expression on their faces. They admitted his strength, even though they mocked him and openly wished for his death but a minute ago. Rick despised them.
“Who was Cornelius?”
“The Chief Reactor Operator.”
“Then I want to see that place.”
“Let's go. You will have your own room and a personal prole. This is Tommo, and he is now yours.” The man pointed at the quiet creature in the orange jumpsuit and black mask. Tommo came closer and stood still, a couple of paces away.
A tall and tough looking youth stepped out of the crowd, followed by another paid. The youth declared, “This man is an outsider! He is a damn mutant, born of filth! A monkey from above! He must be banished from above! He is no one to us!”
The man was supported by some voices here and there. However, Rick was not taken aback.
“You have some objections? Then let's settle this dispute here and now. Well?”
The youth stood still, considering his chances. Rick slowly moved towards him.
“What're you waiting for?”
The youth inadvertently stepped back. Then Rick addressed the crowd.
“I acted according to your law. I proved that I am human. What else do you need?”
The people stood silent.
“He is right,” said the man who had first accepted Rick as the winner. “This was an honest dispute, the Red King bears witness to this.”
It seemed that this was the decisive argument and the crowd made approving noises. The man stepped up close to Rick.
“My name is Arcadius. I
will show you our Brotherhood.”
“This girl,” Rick pointed to Maya, “came with me. I want to take her for myself.”
“Of course.” Arcadius respectfully inclined his head. “She was victorious in a dispute with another woman yesterday, and the Reactor took the loser.”
“We had another with us, a black skinned man called Ahmed.”
“We thought that he would die from his wounds, but he opened his eyes and spoke yesterday. This means that life is strong within him and he can challenge for a place in the Brotherhood in the future. We are monitoring his condition.”
Rick thought that Ahmed could have been thrown into the chasm like a piece of garbage. There were some in the Omicron sector that did such things, motivated by higher ideals. Even though they had obviously barbaric and pagan customs, the people obeyed certain rules here.
Before Arcadius took them down the corridor, Rick was given help. They used an injector on him that made the pain in his shoulder go away and his head clear. Maya rewarded Rick with a grateful look, silently took him by the hand and walked alongside him. The corridor obviously led to the Chorda. They came out onto the balcony and crossed the stairway to the neighboring segment, descending to a lower level. There were elevators moving in the niches by the entrances to the radial corridor of the segment. There were similar niches in the Omicron sector, but they had always been unavailable to the people of the Commune.
“We are going to go down the stairs,” Arcadius guessed his thoughts. It's not far.
Rick considered him more carefully. Hair streaked with gray, short but broad-shouldered, small gray eyes. It looked like Arcadius played an important role in the Brotherhood and definitely had a degree of power.
Tommo the prole quietly followed Rick two paces away.
“He will follow any order you give him,” Arcadius said, noticing Rick's curious glance. “It's a privilege afforded to the Chief Operator.”
Rick stayed prudently quiet, even though he really wanted to ask a huge number of questions. They descended lower and lower, and the staircase and walls surrounding them shone with cleanliness. Rick watched the numbers signifying the levels: 315, 314, 313...
“Floors,” Maya said. “We will soon be on floor three hundred.”
