The Calling
Page 30
“All I know about myself is that I’ve failed everybody, especially you.”
“What if I told you that you couldn’t fail? That all the outcomes of your choices are just steps on a necessary path to get you here?” Aaron said.
“How could that be possible? I have clearly not lived up to the standards set for me.”
“Set for you by whom? Yourself, your ego, the world around us that tries to mark us all and place us in chains?”
Remko glanced up at Aaron. “What else is there?”
Aaron smiled, a sparkle in his eyes. “A different standard. One that calls you by your true name, which says you are blameless, perfect, that your only purpose is to take the journey.”
“So people can’t mess up?”
“Of course they can, by the standards of this physical world, and they judge themselves and others; they are filled with self-hate and fear that they’ll never really be enough.”
Remko connected with Aaron’s words and felt heat rush to his face.
“But the great news is, my friend, that this isn’t the true standard. You can be free from all of that if you want,” Aaron said.
“I just don’t know if I can believe that,” Remko said.
“Yes, well, belief is everything.”
The sun worked its way across Remko’s skin and its heat filled his bones. He thought of what it might be like to be truly free. To be fearless, filled with certainty. Was it possible? Could that life really be his? His heart rammed against the inside of his rib cage. A deep longing sprang up from his core and he realized he’d never wanted anything else as much as he wanted the belief Aaron spoke of. But his past transgressions pounded back at the ringing of truth and reminded him that he wasn’t worth it. Not after all he’d done. The longing died down to only a small vibration in his gut, dampened by his shame. Such things weren’t possible for people like him.
The wind that had been still moments before now violently whipped across the field and over Remko. It tore at his shirt and the ends of his hair. It was mostly warm, paired with the sun, but chilled in spots as it ripped across Remko’s skin. It shook him inside, under his flesh, past the shame and blame calling him unfit, past the monsters eating away at his memories. It drove into the darkest parts of his fear and exploded. Light filled Remko’s chest, flooded through his skin and out into the field. An intense heat caused Remko’s breath to catch in his throat. His heart seemed to pause and then speed forward, its beat coursing through his body.
He felt fear at the sudden appearance of such power; he wanted to run from it, hide from it. Because it saw. Nothing was hidden from this light.
Remko felt overcome with joy. He wanted to laugh and cry all at once as the light and wind continued to sail around him. He heard a soft chuckle and looked over to see Aaron lying back in the grass, letting the wind wash over him. A soft giggle filled the air on his other side, and Remko turned toward the sound to see that the small boy was back, twirling with the light and laughing against the sky.
Suddenly Remko felt as if the wind was lifting him from the ground. The light itself was holding him, wrapping him in warmth. Tears drained from his eyes and he began to shake. Sobs racked his shoulders as the wind and light pulled him close.
A voice boomed through Remko’s consciousness. I call you mine, son of the Father. Fearless, blameless. Know who I am and therefore who you are.
Remko opened his mouth to respond but was so captured by the light that he couldn’t find words. Awestruck, he wept as the words flowed through him.
I call you mine, son of the Father. Fearless, blameless. Listen to your true name and know.
Dark memories filled Remko’s mind. The prison the night Helms was killed, how Remko couldn’t save him, couldn’t make it in time. The image played like a fatal blow, but the light holding him close pushed into the memory and washed it clean. Remko cried out as the light filled him with peace where there had been pain. He saw Larkin’s face, singing hymns of joy before being executed. Again the light rushed in and made the picture whole, filled now only with warmth. Over and over, memory to memory, the wind and light wiped the slate clean, replacing Remko’s guilt and shame with a peace that caused him to tremble with joy and awe.
Love. That’s what it was. A love that rescued his mind and broke him from his self-hatred. A love designed specifically for him, to hold him and cast out his fear.
The wind danced in a frenzy of motion and the light spread out so wide that all Remko could see was love. He felt joy spilling through his skin, out of his mouth and into the air. Laughter and peace rocking him free.
Freedom—at last he was feeling true freedom.
I call you mine, son of the Father. I call you fearless, blameless, loved.
Remko’s laugh turned into a full bellow. His sides ached from the motion, his mind rumbling with the new sensation of freedom. How long had he wandered away from what he could have touched? How long had he searched for freedom within his limited version of reality, a false freedom he could find by defeating his enemies, when true freedom existed here, in his heart? He laughed instead of feeling shame for what he could have claimed as another failure.
For the first time, he believed. He believed in the way of Aaron, in his true self, in his Father. Joy bubbled to the surface as the wind died down to a calm breeze, softly tugging at his heart. The sunlight bathed him in its gentle touch.
A fresh set of tears slid down Remko’s cheeks. “I surrender,” he whispered. “I believe and I surrender.” The light expanded in him once more and he felt the face of his Father smiling.
I call you mine, son of the Father.
Remko smiled and breathed in his new truth, the truth that had always been within him but that he’d finally opened his eyes to see. A hand clapped his shoulder and Aaron was there, his face threatening to split open from his smile.
“Ha!” he said, slapping Remko’s back. “Welcome to the family, Seer.”
Remko chuckled and Aaron joined in. Within moments the two were lying back in the grass, clutching their sides, laughter echoing from their mouths.
Remko wasn’t sure how long he lay there, filled with joy, but it consumed him wholly so that he didn’t notice when Aaron’s laughter drifted off, didn’t notice when the field faded; he just rested in the truth that he was created for.
He woke in his holding cell. His first instinct was to be filled with fear, and it started to come. He felt it creeping along, up his chest, through his mind. Then he recognized where letting himself be filled with fear would lead him, and he closed his eyes, searching for the words of his identity.
They came with roaring clarity. I call you mine. What shall you fear?
Remko smiled and walked through the fear that threatened him to find it was nothing compared to the truth pulsing through his veins. His true power.
Remko sat up. Nothing had changed around him, but everything had changed within him.
The daggers came, the world trying to sling its hurtful reality at Remko’s mind. And a few stuck. Elise was still in the hands of the Authority, his own flesh and blood captured by his former regime. And if Elise was here, it was safe to assume so was Carrington. The people he loved more than anything.
Panic filled his chest and he struggled to find the peace within the light that had held him close. How could he walk through this fear? He wished for the field, for the wind and the light, for Aaron, for the small boy. It was easy to be free of fear in that place, but how would he find it here?
I call you mine, son of the Father. What shall you fear?
The doorknob twisted and a guard walked in. Smith. Remko’s mind instinctively flashed to Smith shooting Dodson dead. Anger welled up inside his chest and he stood.
Smith carried in a tray of food and set it on the desk. He glanced at Remko, and Remko saw sorrow lining the man’s eyes. The light that Remko now carried flared against his anger and he felt the fury ease.
Was this man not also a son of the Father?
Was he not also trapped, just as Remko had been, in the duty of this world’s standards? Were they not just the same? Something different bloomed inside Remko’s heart. Compassion.
Smith quickly peered over Remko’s shoulder to the highest corner of the wall, where a camera was placed to monitor all of Remko’s movements. Remko sensed that if that camera weren’t there Smith would have something to say to him, but he was trapped with the eyes of the Authority watching.
Remko took a step toward Smith, who inched backward. Remko loosened his face and let the compassion filling his heart seep into his eyes. He took several more steps until he was close enough to Smith to place his hand gently on the man’s shoulder. Smith tensed, ready to react if needed, and Remko kept his touch warm.
Smith’s eyes darted from Remko to the camera, and back to Remko. Remko broke the silence. “I forgive you, my brother.”
Shock filled Smith’s face and softly turned to sorrow.
“There is freedom from this pain. I know that now,” Remko said. “I hold nothing against you.”
Tears rimmed the inside of Smith’s eyes and he swallowed to contain his emotions. He held Remko’s eyes for only a moment longer before turning and closing the door behind him as he left the room.
Silence engulfed the cell and Remko stayed standing by the door, thinking about the moment that had just passed. He smiled, feeling the joy of truth buzzing inside his head. The little monsters were no longer gnawing away at him; his fear was no longer filling him with panic. The light had squashed them both. Remko walked to the desk where Smith had set his food and sat to eat, filled with too much joy to care that it was once again soup.
31
The day flew by. Remko was alone in his cell but not alone in his spirit. He spent the day listening to the voice of truth, searching for new truths he felt he was discovering every minute. It was like opening a box filled with notes, each one holding a different secret to the universe, a box he had always possessed but had forgotten about. New truths brought new fears, new daggers, but Remko practiced remembering who he was and walking through them in faith and belief. Faith that his Father was bigger, joy that he was called His son.
Food was brought to him several more times, and he waited for the insects that had been planted in his mind to begin eating away again, but they didn’t. He knew Damien must be watching him. Eventually he would see that the injection wasn’t working and most likely Remko would be injected again. He walked through that fear and trained his eyes to look for the light when he felt like the darkness was closing in. Thoughts of Elise and Carrington stayed with him always; he trusted that they too were called by the Father. He was learning that trust was part of faith.
He understood what Aaron had meant when he said there was no war to fight because the war had already been won; all they needed to do was surrender and accept their true nature. Child of the King. Remko chuckled—that made him a prince. What did a prince fear? Was his Father not the greatest King of all? Who was more powerful, more beautiful than He? As His son, was Remko not unlimited in what he could do, the access he could have?
Again Remko laughed and wondered if moving mountains was a real thing. He spent hours in this place of joy, imagining limitlessness. Resting in the power the light brought him. He hardly noticed Smith enter when he did.
The lieutenant rushed over and pulled Remko from his waking dream. “Come with me,” he said.
He spoke in hushed tones and Remko glanced up at the camera in the corner.
“I disabled it for the moment, but they’ll realize soon enough, so we have to go,” Smith said.
Remko stood and followed Smith out through the door of his prison. He marveled that despite the locked door, the only prison that had truly contained him was the one he had erected himself.
Smith moved quickly down the hallway, and Remko saw rooms on either side, more prisoners behind locked doors, just as Remko had been moments before. He couldn’t help but wonder if they were prisoners locked in their own minds, as he had been.
His eyes scanned their faces as they moved and fell on a man he knew.
Neil.
Remko stopped. The man looked disheveled, broken, pale, as if he hadn’t eaten in days and was withering away to dust. Remko glanced at the other rooms on either side and saw more faces he recognized. Kal on one side, Ian Carson on the other. All men from his past, all trapped, being injected and conformed to the will of one sick man. All trapped in prisons of their own making as well—ones they could be free from.
“We should let them out,” Remko said, coming to a stop.
Smith turned to Remko and shook his head. “We don’t have time. Our window is small and we need to get you out of here.”
But how could he leave them?
Another thought fell like a stone in Remko’s mind. “Elise.”
“She isn’t here anymore; they took her into the city, and before you ask, Carrington was never here. They never caught her.”
Remko’s heart seized. His daughter, his precious little girl, was in the city out of reach, but his wife, the woman who had loved him even when he was lost to darkness, was out there somewhere away from the cruel hands of the Authority. The reality of it weighed heavy on his back and he searched for the light.
“Remko, we have to go now,” Smith said.
“Why?” Remko asked. “Why do this? Why risk it?”
Smith paused and exhaled. “Because you know something the rest of us don’t. I’ve seen Damien’s plan. The people are going to need someone who can show them what you know.”
Remko was taken aback but felt the light balloon anew in his chest.
Go, be a true Seer. I will lead you, and they will see.
He would, he would show them all.
Let all who come, come.
“What do you mean, he’s gone?” Damien yelled. He ripped the man from the chair that sat in front of the patient-monitoring console. Damien pounded on the keys and flipped from patient to patient. Remko’s room came onto the screen, empty, the door ajar. It was impossible. How could he have gotten out?
“Someone fed us with a loop, gave him enough time to get out before we realized he was gone. We’re watching so many participants,” the man said.
“And that’s an excuse for why you let him slip through your fingers?” Damien screamed.
The man said nothing and kept his eyes on the floor.
“Who could have done this?” Damien asked.
The man gulped. “It had to be someone with access. Only a handful of people can get into this room.”
Damien turned to the guard standing by. “Gather everyone who has access to this room and find out who did this!”
The guard nodded and left.
Damien ran his fingers through his hair and tried to calm his breathing. If the Scientist found out about this . . . He couldn’t finish that thought without a tremor passing through his fingers. The Scientist would see this as failure, Damien’s failure, and people didn’t fail the Scientist without paying consequences.
Damien let out a frustrated growl and swept his hands across the top of the desk in front of him. The contents crashed to the floor, bringing the room to a complete standstill.
What had happened? Things had started off so well with Remko; the injection had worked. How had that stupid child broken all that Damien had built? How had the second injection had no effect? Everyone else was showing perfect results.
Damien knew the Scientist would care more about Remko than the others. There were still other members of the Seers out there. Jesse had reported their most recent position, but of course they had been gone, as Damien expected.
Remko was the key. If for some reason he was above being affected by the Genesis injection, it meant uncertainty ahead, and that was unacceptable. Remko had to be apprehended.
Damien’s future depended on it.
Jesse entered the stuffy office the Scientist called home. He thought the place smelled like dust and old age so he
usually avoided it at all costs. But he was trying to win back favor, so he ignored the stench.
Jesse knew Remko had escaped from the Genesis Compound several hours earlier. He understood what kind of trouble this would mean for Damien. Jesse had never had a problem with the Authority President, but he was surprised by the man’s failure. It seemed the task ahead required more than Damien had to give. Especially after all that Jesse had witnessed. There was no denying the strange power that existed within the Seer group. He himself had watched a flesh-and-bone man stop bullets.
He’d known then that there was more to this story than even they understood. Jesse couldn’t ignore the itching questions that haunted his dreams. If Aaron was what he said, the son of a Father with that kind of power, what were they actually fighting against? And now with Remko’s escape, it was hard to know what the future would bring.
Jesse thought of Elise. Something about the way the girl looked into his eyes, as if she understood him, was unnerving. And he’d worried about what her fate would be after her purpose was fulfilled. He hadn’t planned on worrying about it, but somehow it had happened. She was asleep and being monitored even now. Never to be left unguarded.
If Remko was free, his people would come for her, and she couldn’t be taken. She was different somehow. The Scientist had taught Jesse to listen to his instincts, to determine which ones were for the bigger purpose and which were unfortunate side effects of being trapped in a lower level of existence. Right now his instincts were warning him against letting Elise be rescued.
The Scientist was staring out the window into the street below, and Jesse waited for him to speak.
“Thank you for coming,” the Scientist said.
“Is everything all right?” Jesse asked.
“No, but it will be.” The Scientist turned to face Jesse. “We just need to dispose of the fat.”
“How can I help?” Jesse asked.
“There’s going to be a change in leadership within the city. I have mistakenly placed my hopes in the wrong man, a mistake I take full responsibility for and one that I will solve,” the Scientist said.