by Todd, E. L.
Calloway took a deep breath. “Wish me luck,” he said.
“Break a leg.” Breccan smiled.
Easton grabbed his hand. “If you can travel to the Anti-Life, then you can do this, Calloway. Just remember that.”
He nodded. “Okay.” The woman turned around and walked down the hallway, Calloway following right behind her.
“Is there something specific that I’m supposed to do?” he asked, running his hands through his hair.
“Just answer the questions that are asked of you,” she said without turning around. Her heels echoed on the wood floor and were amplified in the hallway.
“Do I look okay?” he asked.
She smiled. “You look fine, Mr. Martins.”
“Should I bring anything?” he asked, sounding more frantic by the second.
“Just answer the questions that are asked of you,” she repeated. She stopped in front of a wide, black door and stared at him. She was wearing a black skirt and a white blouse. She reminded Calloway of a secretary. “Are you ready?” she asked quietly.
Calloway shook his head.
“Well, you better be,” she said as she opened the door.
Calloway followed behind her and stepped into a large circular room, which was comprised of rows of seats that all faced a single chair in the center of the dais. There were twenty lights pointed at the chair, casting a large shadow on the rest of the room. It reminded Calloway of a theatre stage, where you couldn’t see the people in the audience because of the powerful gleam of the stage lights. He could make out the silhouettes of bodies but nothing more; their faces were cloaked in darkness. He wondered if Weston was among the invisible people.
“Calloway Martins?” asked the man sitting in the podium in the front of the room. He was the only person with a visible face, which was covered with wrinkles and gray hair.
“Yes,” Calloway said.
The woman behind him closed the door and disappeared, leaving Calloway standing alone in the dark room. It felt sinister and creepy, standing under the blazing lights that heated his body. But at the same time he felt frozen, looking out into the blackness of darkness.
“You may take a seat,” the elderly man said.
“Thank you.” Calloway walked into the center of the room and sat in the chair, staring into the black bleachers, wondering who was looking back at him.
“My name is Leo Palmer and I will be the proctor of this trial.” He looked down at the notes in his hand and read aloud. “Calloway Martins has been accepted into the university with a full scholarship. While his grades were mediocre, his SAT scores were remarkable, only a few points away from a perfect score. Mr. Martins wishes to become a member of the White Wing, according the Weston Rivers, who says we should consider him in light of his accomplishments.”
Calloway wasn’t sure what the man meant by his accomplishments, but he didn’t dwell on it, focusing on controlling his face and stopping the sweat that dripped down his forehead.
“Mr. Martins has discovered the portal entrance to the Anti-Life and traveled through it yesterday to discover the plans that the Hara-Kir have made for us, intending to destroy the livelihood of humanity in the hope we will fall prey to despair and give up our essence willingly. Without this vital knowledge about their plans, we wouldn’t be organizing a counter strike at this moment, searching for spies that have infiltrated our society.” He turned the page of his notes and continued to read on. “However, Calloway has special circumstances that need to be addressed. According to Ms. Rivers, Calloway has possession of Anti-Life gifts, which can only be found on the other side of the portal, and he claims they were given to him by his late father. This arouses concern for it elicits many questions: how did his father locate these gifts and what is there purpose?” He looked from his notes and stared at Calloway. “What is your explanation for this?”
Calloway leaned forward in his chair and took a deep breath. “My father passed away ten years ago and the only thing I inherited was a chest of his belongings—that’s where I found these gifts.”
“Was there anything else in this box?” the man asked.
“Yes,” Calloway said firmly. “There was a note detailing the existence of the Hara-Kirs along with a warning, telling me to stay away from them. He also told me the whereabouts of the Kirin Book, and commanded me to protect it.”
The man nodded. “Was your father involved with the Hara-Kirs?”
“I don’t think so,” Calloway said. “Every note told me to stay away from them and protect the book from the fiends. I don’t see how he could be working with them if he gave me these directives.”
“Then how did he get the gifts and the Kirin Book?” he challenged.
Calloway wiped the sweat from his brow. “I—I don’t know.”
“The only explanation would be if he traveled through the portal himself,” the man said. “Can you think of any other possibility?”
Calloway shook his head. “No, but that doesn’t mean he was working with them. My theory is he traveled to the Anti-Life to research them, and on his return he took these gifts, giving them to me.”
“It is unlikely he could travel to the Anti-Life and not be caught.”
“Well, it is unlikely that my father was working against the Life,” Calloway said quickly. The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop him. It irritated him that his father was being accused of treasonous acts. Even if he was a Hara-Kir, that doesn’t mean he was evil like the rest. Calloway was a Hara-Kir but he was a proponent of the Life—it was the same situation. “When my friends and I traveled through the portal, we weren’t caught as well. It is very possible.”
The man stared at him for a moment. “So, you believe that your father, Sven Martins, was working against the Anti-Life?”
“With my whole heart,” Calloway said simply.
Leo glanced at his notes. “You met Weston Rivers eight months ago. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And when did you know she was leader of the White Wing?”
“About eight months ago,” he said.
“Then why didn’t you confide this knowledge to her, handing over the Kirin Book?”
Calloway didn’t know how to answer this question. If he told the truth, that when he revealed his possession of the gifts she immediately stopped trusting him, it would indicate that she didn’t report it immediately. “I was worried that wouldn’t trust me.”
“And why wouldn’t she? Do you have something to hide?”
“No,” Calloway said. “But I was worried that I would be condemned for something I had no involvement in. If she assumed my father was a Hara-Kir, which he wasn’t, she would assume I was evil as well, which, of course, I’m not.”
The proctor nodded. “How did you discover the location of the portal?”
“My father hid the Kirin Book in the Grandiose Historian Library and that’s where I did my research. Hara-Kirs kept appearing in the library, and eventually I realized they were originating from the building—the portal was inside.”
“Well, that was a coincidence,” the man said.
Calloway didn’t know what that remark meant but he didn’t ask. He thought it was best if he kept quiet.
“And is it true your father is the owner of this building?”
Calloway swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes.”
“So, it is safe to say your father was aware of the portal’s existence?”
“Probably,” Calloway said.
“And why would he purchase a building that housed the portal unless he wanted to protect it, allowing the Hara-Kirs to travel to and from the Anti-Life safely?”
“Or because he wanted to protect the humans from the portal,” Calloway snapped.
The man glared at him. “If that were the case, wouldn’t he have destroyed it?”
Calloway was quiet. He hadn’t thought of that. “He preserved it so we could use it to attack the Anti-Life.”
“A
nd did he tell you this?”
“No,” Calloway said quietly. His father didn’t tell him anything.
The man nodded. “If we found all the portals and destroyed them, there wouldn’t a war at all. It sounds like your father wanted to protect the portal, not protect us from the portal.”
“I don’t believe that,” Calloway said simply.
“And why didn’t you convey this to Miss Rivers?” he asked. “If you are a supporter of the White Wing, wouldn’t you have confided this invaluable information to us?”
“I was concerned that you wouldn’t trust me—treat me exactly the way you are treating me now, like I’m guilty for a crime I didn’t commit.” Calloway felt the anger rise. He was tired of being treated like a criminal even though he committed his entire existence to doing what was right.
“Well, the facts speak for themselves,” Leo said.
“Well, you are forgetting about a lot of facts as well,” Calloway said, raising his voice slightly. “For one, I’ve killed at least twenty Hara-Kirs—slaughtered them with no remorse. I’ve done everything in my power to protect the Life, including traveling to the Anti-Life to share this knowledge with you. I may have hidden this information before, but I willingly revealed it when I knew it was wrong to withhold it. The only evidence you have against me is that my father may have been involved with the Hara-Kirs, and even that isn’t enough testimony to question my loyalty to your cause. Hypothetically, if my father was a Hara-Kir, which is impossible because I’m human, and if he was the leader of the whole organization in the Anti-Life, that is completely irrelevant to who I am as a person. I’ve said it one hundred times—I am an advocate for the Life!”
The man stared at him for a moment. “Then why do the Hara-Kirs seek you out? They never hurt you, try to kill you—just communicate with you. How do you explain that? Miss Rivers has seen this phenomenon first hand. Clearly, they treat you like a member. How do I know that you aren’t? That this information that you feed us is fictitious? That you aren’t just trying infiltrate into our ranks so you can overthrow us?”
Calloway sighed. “I don’t know why they behave that way.” Actually, he knew exactly why—he was a Hara-Kir, but he could never admit that. “I suspect it has something to do with my father.”
“In what way?” the man asked.
“Since the Grandiose Historian Library is in his name, I suspect he may still be alive, running from the Hara-Kirs, and they mistake me for him because we look very similar.”
“But if that were the case, your father would be working with them—since the Hara-Kirs never hurt you.”
“Or they may want to question me about his whereabouts, not immediately kill me,” Calloway said. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “This is the truth. Clearly, I am somehow involved with the Hara-Kirs but I don’t know how, but that is irrelevant. I want to work with the White Wing and bring down the Anti-Life—there is nothing I want more. I have demonstrated my trustworthiness and proven my allegiance to you. I have experienced the Anti-Life so you should accept me and use me. I just want to help—please.”
The man stared at him for a moment, saying nothing. He twirled his thumbs together on the desk. “While you have done things for our cause we are still wary of you. Trust is something not given easily—you will have to earn it. At this point in time, we cannot accept you into our society but we cannot allow you to go freely. We will imprison you within our cells until further notice.”
Calloway felt his heart fall. It was better than being killed but not by much.
“You haven’t spoken to the witnesses,” a man said, sitting in the shadow of the stands. “Let us hear them.”
The man at podium glared at the invisible person then turned back to Calloway. “Very well,” he said. “But it won’t make a difference at this point. He has Hara-Kir written all over him.”
The door opened and Easton and Breccan were ushered into the room. Two chairs were placed next to Calloway and they took their seat on either side of him.
“And who are you?” the proctor asked.
“Easton Rivers—sister of Weston,” she said.
“Breccan Donahue,” he answered. “Calloway is my cousin.”
The man nodded. “And you find him trustworthy?”
“I trust him with my life,” Easton said. “There is no doubt in my mind that not a single drop of evil exists in Calloway. He would give his life to protect any innocent soul.”
“But what makes him so trustworthy?” the man asked. “Those are just words.”
Easton placed her hands in his lap. “Well, Calloway has been bullied at school for the entire year by one boy, who has gotten Calloway suspended, made him replace a valuable camera, and harassed his girlfriend. Even after everything this boy did to him, Calloway still saved him from a Hara-Kir.” Easton glanced at her hands then looked up again. “We were running late for graduation and Calloway choose to save him even when he didn’t have to, knowing it was his duty to protect the bully’s essence. If he had chosen to let him die, no one would have judged him. And to be frank, the world would have been a better place if he was killed. But this is who Calloway is—he always does the right thing.”
The man looked at Breccan. “And why do you support him?”
Breccan shifted his weight, uncomfortable by the direct question in the dark room. “When a Hara-Kir attacked me, it was about to stab me in the chest but Calloway jumped in front of me, protecting my body with his. Luckily, Easton killed it from behind so the Hara-Kir didn’t impale Calloway. If it did, Calloway would be dead. He risked his own life to protect mine, even when he didn’t have to. To imagine that Calloway is anything but good is unthinkable.”
The man looked down at his paper and cleared his throat. He didn’t comment on their testimonies, clearly indifferent to the revelation. “And the last witness?”
The door opened again and Marquan walked into the room. Calloway smiled when he saw his friend, and Marquan slightly nodded to him.
“And what is your testimony?” the man asked.
Marquan held up the lab results. “I conducted these a month ago, analyzing Calloway’s DNA. The results claim that his DNA is one hundred percent human. I ran the test twice just to be sure.” He approached the bench and handed the results to the man, who stared at the paperwork for a long time. “Calloway isn’t a Hara Kir. This test proves it.”
The man nodded. “Everything seems to be in order,” he said sadly.
Marquan nodded then stepped back, standing next to Calloway and his friends.
“However, this does not prove that Calloway is trustworthy. There is not enough information to guarantee that Calloway is not working for the Hara-Kirs as a human or if he is collaborating with his father, if he is still alive. Calloway will be imprisoned in the cell capsules.” He turned around and looked at his colleagues in the darkness. “Does anyone object?”
“I do,” a male voice said. He stepped forward and approached the bench, standing next to the man who proctored the interrogation. When Calloway looked at the man he felt his heart flutter—it was Mr. Avey. “I’ve had Calloway as a student for the past year and I can attest to his valor and goodness. If he is evil, then so are we all. As the president of this university and the Chief of this quorum, I drop all the charges against Mr. Martins. Are there any objections?”
The crowd was silent.
Leo had a scowl on his face as he stared at Mr. Avey, displeased that his decision had been overruled. He turned back to Calloway, still grimacing, and met his gaze. “Welcome to the White Wing.”
Acceptance
Calloway was ushered out of the room along with his friends, and as soon as he was outside, away from the dungeon, he let the air leave his lungs, finally able to breathe freely. They walked down the hallway until they returned to the sitting room, which had a fire roaring in every hearth for light. The pain that clenched his chest finally dissipated now that he was accepted into the society—he was off
icially a member of the White Wing.
“I told you everything would be okay,” Easton said as she stopped in front of him. “There was no way they would deny you.”
“Well, they were going to before Mr. Avey spoke up,” Breccan said. “He would be in the dungeon now if it didn’t happen.”
Calloway nodded, still astonished that Mr. Avey was a member of the White Wing, and not just a peer, but the owner and chief of the university. “I still can’t believe this,” he said as he ran his hands through his hair. “That was close. My heart was about to explode from my chest the entire time. I’ve never been so scared.”
“Even when we traveled to the Anti-Life?” Easton smiled.
Calloway nodded.
Easton laughed. “You are fearless against the unknown, but you are frightened of a mere trial.”
“That could have claimed my life,” Calloway said.
“Well, everything worked out so it doesn’t matter,” Easton said. “Now everyone trusts you.”
Calloway immediately thought of Weston. “You think everyone does?”
Easton smiled. “Everyone.”
Calloway felt his heart pound. The very reason why he and Weston weren’t together was because she claimed she couldn’t trust him. Now she didn’t have a reason to be wary of him. He was a member of the White Wing and committed to the same cause. “I’m going to tell her.”
“When?” Breccan smiled.
“As soon as I see her,” Calloway said firmly. He wasn’t going to wait any longer. She was the one he wanted and he knew she felt the same—she loved him. Calloway felt his heart accelerate in his chest as he turned to the hallway. People were filing out of the room. Older adults with gray hair walked past him and left the building. They wore long black robes that hid most of their frames from view. Only their hands were revealed. Marquan left the hallway, winking at Calloway as he walked by with another quorum member. He waited for Weston to appear, and when she finally did, Calloway advanced to her, unable to wait a few more seconds for her to reach him.
