All of this is so ludicrous. I mean, I knew the Helix was bad news—always did—but this? Why would they do all of this? Why would this Videus guy go to such lengths? To what purpose? Just to make Labots?
The pulsing in my head begins to creep into my right eye, and I take my seat again. I need to rest soon; try to get rid of the damned thing. I really wish all this stress would just give me a break. I don’t have time for this.
“Show me the last entry,” I tell the holographic Fenton, pinching the bridge of my nose and willing the throbbing to go.
“Ya go’ it,” he says, the last entry flashing up on the screen.
…Subject A-2 has begun exhibiting signs of delusions. She sees things that are clearly not there. Often, she’ll talk in nonsense. The standard Neuorshift process doesn’t seem to have any effect on her, and we’re beginning to believe she may need more drastic measures. If A-2 does not respond to those, we may need to dispose of her before she becomes a threat to the safety of the Helix…
…The Faceless Project has been working better than expected. Subject A-2 has been able to be assimilated in the underground facility. It appears the heat does these types of subjects some good…
The underground facility? Heat? Hmmm… I sit up a little more. Now we’re getting somewhere. Where could this underground facility be hidden?
“Fenton, can you find me any more references to this underground facility?” I ask.
“Sure thang,” he says, his holographic face going blank for a moment. “There are twelve entries.”
They each pop up on the screen and I bend in. Sifting through the details will take some time, because each entry is pages long. Craning my neck, I stretch it, trying to get it to crack. I wiggle my jaw, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure. Nothing helps.
Blinking hard, I lean in to read the first entry.
…We already know the best way to deal with the difficult subjects is to incarcerate them in the underground facility until they’ve had the rehabilitation course. But there are some who seem to be beyond help, and need to be disposed of in the appropriate manner…
Disposed of? What does this even mean? Why do they talk like they’re just taking out the garbage?
I shake my head. Maybe to them, they are.
I flip to the next one, then the next, and the next. All of the entries have similar details, and all blend into each other as I try to concentrate through the pounding in my head.
“One more,” I whisper to myself, “Then, I need to rest.”
…The people of the Helix seem to have given their own mythological name to the Faceless—Labots. The name has spread like wildfire to those who were aware of their presence. Seems an almost fitting name. We plan to take it on as our own. We’ve been wondering what to call them, and there’s no better way to tap into their innate fear than to use the name they have already given…
…There are a number of faceless Labots who are not functioning as they should. We can’t get them to disengage the holographic image that erases their faces. We’ve had to store them in the underground facility for safe-keeping until they can be sorted out…
…We have had a number of people who are in question for causing problems in the Helix. Two have been know to actively search for information they have no business digging into. They’ve all been given the standard professional appointment for disposal…
The standard professional appointment for disposal? So there were people who received professional appointments to get rid of them? The Helix did a good enough job making sure the people who stayed in the Helix as part of the society were given the correct appointments. I suppose so no one would question the validity. But if there’s a standard appointment for disposal, what the hell would it be?
I wish I would have asked more questions of Runa about her professional appointment, about why she left. I could kick myself now.
Biting my lip, I keep reading.
…So far, we’ve had three people refuse their professional appointment. Unfortunately, we were able to activate the eLink to initiate the Labot program on only one of them. For some reason, the other two seem to have malfunctioned, and they have escaped to the nearby woods. There’s no point in hunting for them, they will likely be dead by morning. None of them can survive out in the wild…
…The heat from the facility has taken Subject F. It appears he was unable to fully compensate for being in charge of dispersing the ashes of his wife and infant. He threw himself into the incinerator, alive. This is the second time a subject has behaved in such a manner. We may need to keep them locked in their cells when they’re not taken over; or find a way to keep access to their minds indefinitely. This would be unfortunate, since there aren’t many cells for relocation. Perhaps a new project for our Labots, as we expand beneath the city…
Expand beneath the city.
The words jump off the screen. They’re beneath the Helix—and now I know where.
“Kani, Kani— I think I figured out where the vassalage is,” I call out.
The pounding in my head increases, pulsing behind my right eye to the point I have to close my eyes. I sit back down and set my head on the table in front of me, trying to breathe through it. The room feels like it’s spinning and there’s nowhere I can go to escape.
In a weird way, it feels like my skull has been split apart and someone has their fingers wiggling around inside my brain.
“Trae? Trae?” Kani’s voice is so distant.
Though I know she’s calling my name, I don’t have the strength to answer her. I have to keep the room from spinning or I’m going to lurch. Besides, my head is so heavy…
Consciousness departs to the high-pitch squeal of someone screaming.
10
Runa
IT HAS TO BE HERE. I race back to the allayroom, seeing as it was the place we entered this new location.
“Where are you going?” Ammon says, calling after me.
“The Caudex. I didn’t have it on me—I don’t know if it made the trip with us to this place,” I say, pulling back the shower curtain.
“Why would it be in the allayroom?” he asks.
“I don’t know, I just thought maybe—” I sigh, “ugh. How could I have been so careless?”
I rake my hands through my hair.
“Did you expect to be transported like that?” he asks.
“Well, not exactly,” I mutter.
“Then stop being hard on yourself. It’s gotta turn up at some point,” he says, sitting down on a plush looking couch. “This is a nice place. I wonder if anyone lives here.”
“Who knows,” I say, opening cupboard doors in the kitchen area, hoping the book was brought with us and just stored somewhere for safe keeping.
“Well, if it was me transporting you around the planet, I’d make sure that your book went with you,” Ammon says, matter-of-factly.
“Me, too. Especially since I think those wanting it to stay safe are the same ones moving us around,” I say.
“Hey now, that’s a good point,” Ammon says, sitting up straighter.
“What is?”
“They transported us,” he says.
“Yeah?” I say, turning to face him.
“Well, I coulda been left behind, right? Someone somewhere knew I should go with you. So, maybe the book did, too. I wish I could help you look, it’s just so hard to see where I’m going,” he says, rubbing at his puffy eyes.
I walk over and take a seat next to him. The black and blue markings across his face aren’t as angry as they were when I first met him, but his eyes can still only open in small slits. In a way, they almost remind me of the shape of Kani’s eyes at the moment. Reaching out, I run my hand across his cheek, rubbing his cheekbone with my thumb.
“Don’t worry about it, Ammon. You need to rest and heal more. I can look around. The Caudex is my responsibility anyway,” I say, smiling, “but let’s hope you’re right.”
“It would be kinda dumb if they left it
there. Don’t you think?”
“I would think so, but then again, I don’t always have all the information. Sometimes I wonder if they like it better that way,” I say, standing up again and looking around the room.
Along the main wall is a fireplace that extends all the way up to the apex of the vaulted ceiling. On either side are two massive windows that cover most of the expansive wall. I walk over to the window to the left of the fireplace, holding onto the sill.
For as far as I can see, there is nothing but sand dunes and rock outcroppings. It looks exactly the same for all of those initial days I was out in the world alone. At least we’ve got a roof over our head for the time being.
“See anything out there?” Ammon asks, craning to see around me.
“Nope. Nothing but more and more sand,” I say.
“Isn’t it kinda pretty, though? I only saw the inside of a cave—well, at home…and when that lunatic kidnapped me.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I say, shrugging, “Not very hospitable, though. Are you able to see better now?”
“Yeah, a little. The puffiness is going down, anyway. So why do you think we—”
I wait for Ammon to finish, but when he doesn’t I turn around, confused.
“Why do you think we, what? Did you forget what you were going to say?” I ask.
Ammon’s mouth begins to move, but absolutely no sound comes out.
Bewildered, I shake my hands out in front of me, “Ammon, stop. I can see you’re talking, but no sound is coming out. Are you okay?”
One of his puffy eyes twitches, as he gives me a funny look. His mouth begins moving again, more rapidly than before, but still nothing comes out.
“No, stop—stop. You’re not making any—”
Ammon pulls both of his hands apart, and brings them together right in front of my face.
Nothing. Not a sound.
It’s not Ammon, it’s me.
As if a switch was just flipped, I no longer have the ability to hear.
“Ammon, something’s happened to me. I can’t hear anything,” I say, cupping my ears as if they need to somehow be protected.
He smirks, then mouths slowly, “Told you.”
“Well, you stopped in mid-sentence. How I was I supposed to know?” I say, looking around again for the Caudex. There has to be answers there somewhere—if I can just find it.
This has to be the next trial—but what does it mean? How do I overcome this? How do I make sense of anything without being able to hear?
I go from door to door, cupboard to cupboard hunting for the book that’s been my guide. I look under tables, the couch, the beds, inside closets, everywhere I can think of. But the Caudex isn’t with us.
Sitting down next to Ammon on the couch, I bury my face in my hands. This can’t be happening. Not only am I in the midst of my next trial—at least, I hope that’s what this is—but I’ve lost the one thing I’m supposed to guard with my life because it’s been guiding me through everything. How on Pendomus can I be trusted to be the Daughter of Five, if I can’t even keep track of one object? It’s huge, for crying out loud.
“Ugh—” I cry in disgust, thumping the cushions beside me with my closed fists.
Ammon’s eyes widen as far as they can, but he doesn’t try to say anything. He simply rests a hand on my shoulder, trying to console me.
“This stinks. I feel—I feel like a failure and I’ve barely begun. How could I be so reckless, Ammon?”
He shrugs, his lips turning downward.
I close my eyes and pull my legs up close to my body. Resting my head in my knees, I close my eyes.
This isn’t helping. Getting upset, berating myself over this—it’s not going to solve anything.
I look up at Ammon, who yawns in response. Glancing around the room, I look for some way to measure the time. It must be close to when we should be sleeping, surely?
Standing up, I hold out my hand.
“I think we should get some rest. Maybe we’ll think more clearly when we wake up.” I say, thankful at least I can communicate, even if I can’t hear Ammon’s response.
He nods, taking my hand and yawning again.
I lead us both down the main hallway to the bedroom area. One bedroom has a large, massive bed in the center of the room, the other has two slightly smaller ones separated by a table of sorts.
Ammon lifts his finger, pointing to the one with two beds and mouths, “Please?”
Nodding, I follow him inside. He takes the inner bed, nearer the wall and I take the one closest to the door. Should anyone come back, I can protect us from this position. Well, if I can hear anything.
Crawling into the bed, Ammon seems to instantly fall asleep. But my mind rolls over and over all of the events. The people I’m missing. Wondering where the Caudex is.
I wish there was a way to make this trial go faster. I need to get back home, get back to—
Yawning myself, I decide to get up for a sip of water. I scavenge through the cupboards again, finding a small cup and getting a sip of water from the sink, grateful for the running water.
The windows in the house have begun to autodim, slowly filtering out the light from the sun, and I notice for the first time the light still shining in the allayroom. I walk back to shut it off. My hand hovers over the switch as it shuts off, but my eye catches a glint of metal near the sink. Turning the light back on I step into the allayroom. A pair of old-fashioned scissors lie across the countertop right beside the sink.
Reaching out, I pick them up, turning them over in my hands.
“Were these here before?” I say to myself. For the life of me I can’t remember, but then, I was pretty focused on finding the Caudex.
I remember once being told via my eLink lessons what scissors were meant for, but I’ve never seen a pair in real life. In the Helix, we don’t overly have a need for such a primitive device. In a weird way, they remind me of my friends, as if the scissors are something I’d find on another expedition to the Archives, or something.
Setting them back on the counter, I consider taking a shower to help me relax. Unfortunately, I have nothing to change into and the idea of putting the same outfit back on doesn’t incite any joy. Instead, I lean on the counter, looking in the mirror.
I certainly look tired, and a bit worn down. There are dark circles under my eyes and my once white hair lays limp and disheveled and almost a burnt sienna color thanks to the sand particles clinging to it.
Maybe I should shower.
“What could it hurt?” I mutter, flipping on the dial and instantly feeling the warm water rush over my arm.
I lock the door and undress before stepping into the warm mist and water droplets. I feel like I haven’t bathed in years. The water feels so good as I relax into the pounding on my back as I pull my hair to the side, letting it fall over my right shoulder. It’s the oddest sensation to feel the water, but not to hear it.
When I’ve finally had enough, and my body feels ready to rest, I step out, grabbing the towel hanging from a hook on the wall nearby. To my surprise, resting on the side where the scissors had been lies a freshly laundered NanoTech outfit, folded and waiting. One set for me, and a much smaller set—the perfect size for a little boy.
“Hello?” I call out, suddenly alert. “Who’s here?”
I glance at the outfit briefly, clutching the towel close to my body as I unlock the door and step out into the hallway.
Walking through the entire home, not a single thing looks out of place—except for the outfits. And of course the scissors.
Maybe this is part of the trial. Ammon had mentioned I got whatever I asked for before. What if this is like that?
I check in on Ammon, who’s sound asleep, and turned to face the door so I can see his restful face. I’m so glad he’s sleeping, he certainly needs it.
Sighing to myself, I walk back to the allayroom and close the door. I pick up the outfit, unfolding the trousers, top, and the undergarments. Nothing seems o
ut of the ordinary about them. In fact, they look utterly ordinary.
“Oh, why not?” I say, grabbing the new outfit.
As I step into the trousers, a small vial drops from the pocket, skidding across the floor. Pulling the trousers all the way on, I lean down and pick the vial up. Inside is a blue liquid, no label or instructions of any kind to give away what the contents actually are.
I set the vial on the counter, only to find the scissors have reappeared, except on the opposite side of the sink.
“This is so strange,” I mutter, “What am I meant to do with these?”
I scratch my head, completely lost. It’s pretty clear by now, they’re meant for me. But why? What could I use them on? I look around, trying to figure out if there’s something to cut—but there’s absolutely nothing in the room.
Shrugging, I look in the mirror again. My hair is no longer the reddish color, but instead a wet, tangled mess. It’s not like in the Helix where the water automatically smooths away the snarls. And I don’t see a brush anywhere in sight.
Okay, maybe a shower wasn’t the brightest idea.
I comb my fingers through my hair, trying to get it to lay flat, but nothing seems to work. Forget trying to rebraid the sections the way I’ve done my whole life.
My eyes flit back to the scissors.
My hair has been this way for so long, maybe it’s time for change? I lift the scissors to my hair, half expecting them to not work. To be a mirage, or something the way the food was. However, I bring out a section to the front and close the blades around it. The white strands fall to the ground in slow motion, almost dancing as they drop. I continue around the rest of my head, pulling the hair forward, and swiping it with the scissors. Eventually, there’s no more hair to cut and I’ve managed to make it look pretty. No longer down to the middle of my back, my hair stops just above my shoulders. It reminds me of some of the hair styles I’ve seen in the Lateral.
The Complete Pendomus Chronicles Trilogy: Books 1-3 of the Pendomus Chronicles Dystopian Scifi Boxed Set Series Page 34
