Haven

by Justin Kemppainen

  He ran the last few steps and burst through the door, seeing the large sociology head leaning over the circular desk with anger and menace directed at a clearly frightened male receptionist.

  “I’m sorry sir,” the man said, shrinking in his chair, “I was given specific instructions not to allow anyone without proper authorization to enter.” His eyes kept flitting back and forth between the angry man and the door that lead into the Natural Philosophy wing.

  “I’m the senior member of the sociological department, and I’m on the goddamn advisory council!” Dunlevy bellowed, hands slamming on the marble top. “How’s that for authorization?!”

  The timid man shook his head back and forth, “No, no, I’m sorry, that’s not good enough.” He swallowed hard. “I’ve got very clear orders from the High Inquisitor himself-”

  Dunlevy slammed his fists on the table, “That power-hungry little bastard has no authority over anything I do. Open the door!” he roared.

  Michaels watched the exchange with mixed amusement and concern. Before Dunlevy could seize and throttle the poor man, he stepped forward, “Is there anything I can do to help you, Citizen Dunlevy?”

  Dunlevy whirled around, not even noticing the lack of first-name, “Gregory, my friend! It’s good to see you!” He returned his glare to the receptionist. “Tell this little prick to open the door.”

  Michaels flashed his ID to the nervous-looking man, “Do as he says.”

  “But, Citizen Michaels, I’m not supposed to-”

  Michaels twisted his face into an angry scowl. “Don’t try and tell me that I, the head of that very department,” he pointed a finger towards the door in question, “am not authorized to enter it.”

  The man’s chin quivered at the imposing angry figures of two men glaring at him menacingly. “But I can’t-”

  Michaels stood straight up and stared down at the man, “If you tell me once more that you can’t, I will see that you end up shoveling shit for the rest of your natural life.” He leaned forward. “I won’t ask again. Open the door.”

  The man swallowed hard again, looking very much like he wanted to cry. Michaels heard a faint buzz coming from the door. He turned back towards the man and put on a sinister smile, “Thank you.”

  Michaels and Dunlevy moved together through the door, leaving the man behind without so much as a glance backward to see him collapse into his chair and try to start breathing again.

  Michaels kept on Dunlevy heels; the rotund man moved with intensity and purpose. He’d half-expected Dunlevy to raise an eyebrow and crack some joke about the ‘shoveling shit’ he’d pulled out of nowhere for the desk worker, but the man was clearly focused on something else entirely.

  “What’s going on,” Michaels finally asked.

  Dunlevy stopped and spun around, “What? You don’t know?”

  “About what?” Michaels responded. “I’ve been stuck doing work all-”

  “It’s about Claudia, you didn’t hear?”

  Michaels frowned, “Yes… she resigned. Citizen One put me in charge of her project. I actually saw her earlier today; she told me the whole thing was very amiable.”

  Dunlevy shook his head forcefully, “You don’t know.”

  “Know what?” Michaels asked, exasperated.

  “Come with me.”

  Dunlevy took off down the hallway again with Michaels following, slightly more confused than before. The pair passed by Michaels office, and the strange desktop appearance on the terminal screen sparked in his mind. He remembered that at some point he needed to find out if there was another entry.

  Michaels opened his mouth to ask where they were going, but the question died on his lips. They rounded the corner to see the far end of the hallway, the entrance to his laboratory, lined with Inquisitors. He stopped, wondering why they were there and what it had to do with Claudia. Light apprehension tugged at a corner of his mind.

  Dunlevy didn’t miss a beat as he moved down the hallway. Two of the Inquisitors on the end stepped away from the wall, blocking the large man’s path. Michaels moved up behind as Dunlevy stepped right up to the pair and snarled, “Where is she?”

  Neither man, nor any of the other Inquisitors in the hallway gave any notice to the question. The man on the right said, “You are not authorized to be here. Leave immediate-”

  “Tell me where she is or shut your goddamn mouth.”

  The Inquisitor who spoke didn’t react to the rebuke. He said again. “Leave immediately, this is a restricted area.”

  “Listen you little-”

  Dunlevy’s threat was cut off as the double doors to the laboratory swung open and a gurney wheeled out with a woman laying on it. Michaels took in a sharp breath and his midsection clenched as he noticed that the prone form was that of Claudia.

  The woman didn’t appear to be unconscious, but Michaels would rather it had been that way. Slack-jawed with a vacant stare, pale and breathing shallow, Michaels recognized the standard subject aftermath of his mind-softening conditioning.

  ‘My God…” he whispered.

  Dunlevy was less subtle, “Claudia!” The two Inquisitors stepped aside as the gurney wheeled up to them, and Myers shoved the white-coated man pushing it out of the way. He grabbed Claudia by the shoulders and lifted her.

  Her head lolled backwards, as though she couldn’t muster the strength to hold it up or didn’t have wits enough to even try. A thin trail of drool seeped from the corner of her mouth.

  Michaels gritted his teeth as Dunlevy shook the vacant woman, crying, “Claudia, wake up! Claudia!”

  Two Inquisitors stepped forward and seized Dunlevy by the arms, pulling him away from the gurney. The woman stepped back forward and continued wheeling it out. Dunlevy struggled against the men, shouting, “Let me go! Claudia!”

  Michaels watched with increasing sadness and loathing as the gurney turned the corner and the effectively dead woman he had seen only hours before moved out of sight. The two Inquisitors released their grip and Dunlevy jerked away, straightening his clothing.

  The double doors swung open once more and all of the Inquisitors jumped to attention as the short, hunched, careworn form of Julian Wresh came into the hallway.

  “Wresh!” Dunlevy bellowed, creating a deafening echo in the hallway, “You miniscule son of a bitch! What have you done-”

  Wresh’s deeply lined face stared up at Dunlevy’s in a sneer. “It is an internal security matter that is none of your concern.” He swept a glare at the rest of the Inquisitors standing at attention. “Who let these men in here?”

  Dunlevy clenched his fists and snarled, “How could you do that to Claudia you sick bastard?”

  Wresh spun towards Dunlevy again and stared at him with a nasty smirk on his face, “I dealt with an insubordinate subject in a way both humane and fitting. State secrets are not allowed to pass into the private sector, especially by one opposed to our way of existence.”

  Dunlevy seized the High Inquisitor’s shirt collar and lifted him an inch off the ground, bringing their faces inches apart. The other Inquisitors all tensed and made as though to move on Dunlevy, stopped by a hand held up by Wresh.

  “You sadistic, power-hungry...” Dunlevy hissed through clenched teeth, his face lit with livid anger as he rattled off dozens more insults. Michaels wondered how Wresh could keep so calm in the face of that intensity.

  Wresh’s smirk faded, “Unhand me or your fate will be significantly more unfortunate than that of former Citizen Laverock.”

  Michaels winced at this and pressed into the wall, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Dunlevy on the other hand tightened his grip and moved his face even closer. “You’re going to pay for this.” He released the High Inquisitor with a shove and stepped aside.

  Wresh dusted off his shoulders and eyed Michaels as he stood quietly, as though waiting for some kind of statement from him as well. Michaels said nothing, not even meeting the High Inquisitor’s eyes. Wresh, ignoring Dunlevy and his threats
, smirked and made a quick hand motion; he and his entourage of Inquisitors marched away.

  Once they were gone, Dunlevy pounded against the wall, “How could he… how could he do that?” He asked, anger mingling with sorrow. “I’ve known her for so many years…”

  Michaels didn’t say anything.

  “Damn! This place is like a maze!” The booming voice of Dennis Myers came, along with the imposing figure, down the hallway. When he arrived, he noticed the somber attitude shared by the two other men. “What happened?”

  Dunlevy, leaning up against the wall, his head against his arm, responded, “She’s gone…”

  Myers looked back and forth between the two, “Who’s gone? What are you talking about?”

  Michaels, still numb, responded. “Citizen Laverock.”

  Myers raised an eyebrow, “What about her?” He looked at Dunlevy. “I just got your message. Now tell me, what the hell happened?”

  Dunlevy looked up, tears running down his round cheeks and soaking into his beard. “The High Inquisitor deemed Miss Laverock to be a threat to state security. He had her apprehended and brought here several hours ago for conditioning and…” He choked up. “re-education. She’s gone.”

  Myers’ eyes widened and shock spread across his face, “No, they, he… he wouldn’t…”

  Michaels said in the same passive voice, “He did.”

  Dunlevy stared off into space. “That’s just how easy it is for us to be gotten rid of. Cast aside…”

  Myers looked stricken. “No, that…” He raised his chin. “No. Th-this was her fault. She shouldn’t have gone against them.”

  Dunlevy gave him a shocked look. “How can you say that? She was only doing what she felt was right!”

  Myers glared and snapped, “And look where it got her! She made her choice and now she’s paid for it!”

  “You cannot possibly condone what they did to her!” Dunlevy roared. “They wiped her away as though she were nothing more than an annoying stain!”

  Myers set his jaw, “We just have to remain loyal! They won’t do anything to us if we do what we’re told!” He shouted back.

  “Filthy coward. You’re no better than they are!” Dunlevy spat.

  “No, I-I see things for the way they are. I’ll… we’ll be just fine if we keep quiet and don’t question.” Myers shook his head, a feeling of clarity settling over him. “Arthur… just, don’t say anything else, or you’ll be next.” He gave a pleading look. “Don’t keep going with this. They’ll get someone to replace her, the down below will be dealt with, and… and everything will get back to normal.” He finished with confidence.

  Dunlevy glowered at him. “Stand by them and you’ll burn with the rest.”

  Myers was taken aback, “Wh-what?”

  Dunlevy had already turned and stalked off, leaving a wake of threats and unease behind him. Myers looked over at Michaels, who seemingly didn’t pay attention to any of the conversation or to the other man in the hallway. He stared, blankly, off into space. Myers furrowed his brow, and slowly walked away.

  Long after they were gone, Michaels stood pressed up against the wall of the hallway, mixed emotions spiraling through him. He stepped forward, the normally guarded door empty. He palmed the panel on the wall. The door clicked and whirred open.

  His old lab remained very much the same as it was before, even still causing the slightest pang of irritation when he walked inside. Vials of various drugs lay scattered about the center rolling tray table, along with the sensory apparatus hung up on a hook.

  Michaels frowned. Not that he was disappointed about it at all, but it still surprised him that he had been so quickly replaced, especially with the lack of incoming prisoners. Either that or Wresh has his own man administering this when I’m not around. He wondered how many people Wresh had gotten rid of in that fashion.

  He felt another wave of sorrow wash over him as Claudia’s vacant stare flashed through his memory. He viewed without regret or regard dozens of subjects, just like her, caring only for the waste of his time and talents. Yet his mind wouldn’t let him forget the irritated scowl of the lively, intelligent woman replaced by the eternally empty gaze. There’s nothing left, he thought. She might have her memories, but none of her spirit.

  Emotion choked him, and he whispered, “How could they…”

  Tears welled up in his eyes and he wiped them away. He suddenly understood why Dunlevy became so livid, and he felt a hot flare of anger boil in his own blood. His mind saw Wresh’s satisfied smirk at his success at mentally crippling what he called an ‘insubordinate subject.’

  He swiped his arm out at the rolling tray table. It flew sideways and clattered loudly on the floor. Glass vials flew in every direction and shattered on the floor, cascading glass and miscellaneous fluids all over the white tiles. He walked over and threw the doors open with a loud bang. He fumed, sadness and anger clouding his mind and causing him to fight back tears every few seconds.

  He found himself, a few minutes later, sitting in his office in his leather chair in the dark. Unbidden, images of Claudia continued flitting by. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he made no effort to wipe them away.

  ******

  “Everything’s ready. Keep quiet and get things started.”

  Rick had made this last contact roughly half-an hour ago, and Kaylee, with clearance from the people up above, made the announcement.

  “Listen up!” her voice pierced through the din of mingling civilians who fell silent, “It’s time to start moving. Follow instructions and keep yourselves absolutely quiet. If we’re found, we’re dead.” She let this sink in for a moment. “Let’s not get found.” She finished.

  She wasn’t too worried about the hiding portion. Most of these people, being noncombatants, had developed skills for keeping silent and out of sight. Even the youngest children had been taught very well when to make no noise. It often meant survival, and the adults made sure they knew it.

  There were various soldiers positioned at certain points in the building to direct the flow of traffic. Once they started going up the hole, the progress would be slow, but Tanya and Eugene, as well as a couple more of Isaac’s men, took care of herding them to proper places in the rooms. Kaylee cringed inwardly, wondering how crowded it would end up being.

  Once the train of civilians started moving, she bid a quick “good luck” to Desmond and Olivia, who led their well-behaved line of children quietly, keeping a watchful eye on the group.

  Naturally, Kaylee had no real intention of staying with the group of civilians. She kept her unvoiced opinion that it would was safer to be somewhere else. She caught a glimpse of Malcolm’s eyes shining in the darkness. After a brief chill, he was always unnerving, she walked over to him.

  “Hey, what’s the deal with you?” she finally was able to ask.

  He didn’t answer, he appeared to be staring off in the distance or lost in thought. She put her hand on his shoulder-

  In a blur, he twisted around and seized her wrist, yanking her off the ground and staring menacingly into her eyes. Just as suddenly, he jerked backwards in surprise and released her. Not expecting this movement any more than the initial snag, she didn’t recover her footing and tumbled to the ground with a painful thud.

  She scrambled to her feet and Malcolm was looking at her with an almost apologetic look in his eyes. This was of little consolation to her. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She shouted.

  Downcast, he looked away and mumbled, “Ssorry. Sstarrtle.”

  Kaylee didn’t drop it quite so easily, “Oh? I startled you?” she put on a mock-apologetic face, “I’m so terribly sorry that I disturbed your very important ‘staring off into nowhere.’ I’ll think twice before doing that again.”

  Malcolm didn’t respond to her tirade. If he didn’t keep stealing the occasional glance at her, she might have thought he had returned to his ‘lost in thought’ state. He looked a bit pitiful, with a posture that appeared crestfallen. She, o
f course, had trouble maintaining her anger against that.

  She gave an exasperated sigh, “Look… sorry, okay?” She stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on? Why are you so jumpy?”

  Malcolm turned towards her, “I… rrememberr.”

  Kaylee cocked her head, “What do you mean, you remember?” Realization dawned in Kaylee as she remembered his earlier statements about his scrambled memories, “Oh! That’s great! What do you…? I mean, what is it you’re remembering?”

  Malcolm squeezed his eyes shut in concentration and balled his fists at his forehead, “Donn’t… ccann’t…”

  “What is it?” She asked.

  Kaylee jumped back as he threw his hands upward in a violent motion. God he’s twitchy, she thought. I guess I’d be too if I didn’t know who I was. “Hey, just relax!” She stepped forward, reaching out to reassure him, and he jerked backwards away from her, “Malcolm!”

  He shot a glare at her. His eyes blazed with such intensity that she took a step back, “That’s not my name.” he hissed.

  Kaylee tossed her hands in the air, “Jesus! You’re out of your goddamn mind, you know that?” She raised her chin, looking up at him defiantly.

  The two remained locked, staring angrily at each other for a few moments until Malcolm, or whatever he wanted to be called, appeared to deflate. He turned away, sulking. “Ssorry,” he mumbled again.

  Kaylee rolled her eyes, not feeling quite as forgiving this time around. “Just tell me what you remember, and I’ll…” she sighed.

  He looked up again and put a hand on his face, clearly still frustrated, “Can’t…”

  Kaylee chewed on her lip, thinking. “Well, what was it that triggered this? You seemed just fine yesterday…”

  Malcolm cocked his head, considering carefully, “Inss… Inssti…” he concentrated. “Innssstiit.”

  “The Institute?” Kaylee inquired.