The Humanarium

by CW Tickner

  ‘Has your life in them been so bad?’ she asked, pulling her gaze away to look at him, her hands planted on her hips.

  Harl understood her point.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t have met you.’

  She smiled, but her face changed from happiness to fear in a heartbeat as her eyes flicked up over his shoulder. ‘Harl! It’s coming.’

  They ducked their heads below the rim of the tray and a distant booming rattled the objects around them. The noise grew louder and vibrations tremored through Harl’s shoes. The god was heading for their table. Harl ducked lower as its yellow eyes swept across the tray. Another god was following along behind and Harl watched as they strode around the table and headed for the archway.

  The One True God came to an abrupt stop, almost forcing the other to crash into its back. It’s face whipped around to look straight at them. It paused, staring at the tray for a moment, and then it turned and marched towards them.

  ‘Down,’ Harl said, slipping off the trowel and rolling underneath to hide.

  Sonora slid down next to him and he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her deeper under the curved metal. The god’s hand reached in and grabbed two of the clear square containers. The god then turned and walked through the archway to join the lesser god, who was staring into a tank.

  ‘Do we run?’ Sonora asked as Harl rolled out and climbed up the trowel, his feet skidding on the smooth metal.

  He stayed silent, his focus on the archway. He could see a few of the tanks beyond the two gods. The lesser god had its back to him and was still looking inside. The One True God had disappeared further through the archway, but after a moment its arm reached inside one of the tanks through the opening in the back of the world. Shortly after it retracted and the opening closed.

  ‘What is it?’ Sonora asked from below.

  ‘I think someone has just been lifted,’ he said and ducked down below the lip as the archway filled with the titanic mass of the returning gods.

  It seemed so horrifically easy standing on this side of the Sight. The hand had casually reached in and plucked a tiny creature from inside the world. But the harsh reality was that the person lifted would have their life snatched away and those living on the inside would grieve for cycles over the loss of their loved one. The casual nature of the god’s act was chilling. It had no empathy for the humans trapped inside the worlds. Just what did it think they were? Cattle? Insects?

  Harl slid off the tools and crouched in a small gap next to Sonora.

  The table shook as the gods returned, their voices booming like an endless series of rockfalls. The table shuddered and Harl risked a glance through a hole he’d found in the side of the tray. The One True God had just placed the two clear cases next to each other about fifty paces away on the tabletop. Each one now contained a terrified human. They were dashing around frantically within the confines of the containers, their hands clawing at the clear walls as they searched for an opening.

  One case held a middle-aged man and the other a young boy. They were both dressed in leather jerkins and simple trousers, but it was the bright orange hair and pale skin that marked them as different from himself and Sonora.

  Harl and Sonora rushed up the trowel and peered over at the two humans. The older man was beating his fists against the inside of the glass. Fresh bruises scoured his face and arms as if he had attempted to fight back against the god. A flicker of pride stirred in Harl at the thought of such bravery.

  ‘The boy,’ Sonora said, drawing Harl’s gaze to the other cube.

  The young lad was standing stock-still, both palms resting on the glass as he stared at them in shock.

  The older man stopped to see what had made the boy so fixated. As soon as he spotted them, the same look of disbelief crossed his own freckled features. His lips moved as if begging rescue, but the container’s glass walls blocked the sound.

  Harl couldn’t stand it. He hooked a leg over the tray wall and started to scramble over. Sonora grabbed him and pulled him back.

  ‘We can’t help them,’ she said, shaking her head.

  Harl was torn between attempting to rescue them and the knowledge that it was futile to try. It would risk all their lives and he couldn’t chance Sonora’s freedom over that of a stranger.

  The man glared at Harl as though he was a coward. He punched his fists against the container as if hitting Harl for his inaction and roared a string of silent curses.

  The boy was still motionless. The blood had drained from his face but, unlike the man, it was obvious that the boy understood.

  A god’s shadow fell across them all and it reached its weathered hands down to clasp both containers.

  Harl crouched lower. The boy stared down at him, tears flowing from his eyes as the boxes were wrenched up into the air.

  Harl’s gut twisted in anger at himself. How could he just sit there and watch it happen? What kind of monster was he to let the beast snatch them away? He locked stares with the boy until the hand had lifted them far above the table top. All he could see now was the soles of their feet through the transparent base of the containers.

  The One True God stacked both boxes on top of each other in one hand and extended it towards the lesser god. The other tugged open a bag attached to his belt and plunged a hand inside, withdrawing two shining orbs clasped between his four fingers. Each sphere was the size of a person and glowed with an internal light that hurt Harl’s eyes to focus on. A tangle of pulsating lines coiled inside, reds, golds and sapphire tendrils swirling around like fire reflected in water. The lesser god placed the orbs in the outstretched hand of the One True God and with the other hand snatched up the two boxes.

  ‘It’s a transaction,’ Harl said, keeping his voice to a whisper but unable to hide his disgust at what was happening. He had made enough similar deals in the tool shop to know this was a sale. Not just any sale, but the sale of people.

  He stormed up and down the trowel once the gods had left, his fists bunched up in anger.

  ‘Damn it!’ he yelled. ‘We have to stop this. Put an end to this...this sick trade.’.

  ‘I know,’ Sonora said, ‘but what can we do about it? It’s just the two of us, Harl. Perhaps we should think of ourselves first?’

  He knew she was right, but the selfishness of it horrified him. How could such a terrible trade be happening with no one aware of it? Worst of all was the thought that those back home even worshipped such creatures. They had no idea of the gods’ true nature or the horrific fate of those who were lifted. And it was all for some kind of profit. The creatures disgusted him.

  ‘We have to do something,’ he said and pointed to where the gods had left. ‘They’re raising us like cattle bound for market. That’s why we’re kept in the boxes. We’re just some type of living commodity. We should be free.’

  ‘Free where?’ Sonora asked. ‘Inside the worlds isn’t so bad.’

  ‘They’re not worlds,’ he said, slumping down inside the tray. ‘They’re holding tanks, and this-’ He gestured at the roof to emphasize his point. ‘-is a shop. We’re being bred for money, Sonora. They’re no more gods than you or I.’

  ‘What do they want from us?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, shrugging. ‘Whatever the answer, it’s not right.’

  Sonora put her hand on his shoulder. ‘We need to get moving.’

  Harl sighed and clambered up the trowel to the top of the tray wall. Cupboards and shelves lined the distant walls. The more he thought about it the more the place began to resemble his own shop. Boxes of packaged products were stacked neatly on the shelves. Each one had a clear front and he could see faint green blobs inside. He squinted to see them more clearly. Trees. The boxes held trees.

  A stand next to them contained stacks of empty tanks that varied in size. Harl didn’t realise what he was looking at to begin with, but then he recognised them for what they were. Worlds. They were empty worlds. He could see some of them perched next to empt
y packing crates ready to be shipped out. The sickening reality of it made him clutch the edge of the tray with shaking hands. It meant that worlds and humans were shipped goodness knew where. How many were there? How far away? Images of those glass prisons flashed through his mind with gods staring in at them. How many humans were imprisoned like that?

  Would the torture never end?

  He knew they needed to get somewhere with more cover, even the ground would be preferable, but he had no idea how far it was to the floor, so there was no telling if their ropes would be long enough. Going to the edge of the table was a gamble. It would leave them exposed. If the god came back they would be seen instantly.

  He was about to suggest they got away from the tray when everything began to shake and the god strode into view.

  Harl ducked down, but he was too late. The god stopped by the table, a questioning look in its piercing yellow eyes.

  ‘Get underneath,’ Harl hissed, staying hunched over as he slid off the trowel and scrambled back underneath it. The gap was only just big enough for the two of them.

  A shadow fell over the tray and Harl imagined the god’s eyes searching for the cause of the movement. All he could hear was his own breathing and the deafening pounding of his heart. If the god lifted any of the tools aside it would find them, but if it rummaged through the tools it would crush them in the jumble. They were powerless to stop any of it and there was nowhere else to hide.

  Nothing happened for a moment, but then the tray lurched up and swung to the side as the god lifted it from the table. The trowel shifted above them and they huddled together underneath it as it rocked from side to side. Harl grasped Sonora’s hand, hoping to reassure her, but her breathing was heavy and her eyes wide with fear.

  The tray jolted beneath them. They were flung sideways by the impact and the trowel crashed down next to them. Harl looked up. They had stopped. He couldn’t see much from his position against the wall, but the roof looked different and there was far more light.

  A series of low grunts came from the god as though it was talking to itself. It was stood next to the tray, one of its massive legs only a stride away. Harl could easily reach it with Gorman’s sword if he tried. He had a brief vision of leaping from the top of the tray and screaming a battlecry as he plunged the blade into the god’s ankle. But what would be the point? Would it even damage the creature? It would be Harl’s last act as the god would surely turn around and stamp its massive foot down on him as though squashing a bug. But it was tempting. Inflicting just a moment of pain would be a tiny measure of payback for all the torment it had caused.

  The god stepped away and the guttural sound of its voice faded as its footsteps became a distant scuffing.

  ‘We need to get out,’ Sonora said as she shook Harl to break his trance.

  He scrambled back up the trowel. It had dropped down from the rim of the tray, but it was still close enough to the top for him to see over the edge. They were on the floor next to the wall of worlds. The god stood a few hundred paces away peering into one of the tanks. The light from the wall of worlds bathed the god in an eerie glow that made it look even more sinister.

  ‘It’s still close, but let’s get out,’ he said, turning to look in the opposite direction.

  There was a gap between the end of the worlds and the wall.

  ‘The wall of worlds ends a short distance away. I can see gap beyond it. If we can get around that corner we’ll be out of sight. But we need to move fast and stay under the overhang.’

  He looked over the edge of the trowel. What would happen if either of them slipped on the climb down? Sonora tapped him on the shoulder and he turned to find her holding the rope out to him. He smiled at her quick thinking.

  ‘It might notice the rope afterwards,’ he said, then saw her scowl. ‘But we’ll take the chance.’

  He tied one end of the rope around the handle of the trowel and slung the rest of the coil over the side.

  ‘Ladies first,’ he said.

  Sonora did not reply, she just swung a leg over the side of the tray, gripped the rope, and then slid from view.

  Harl hoisted himself up and scrambled over the side. He let go of the rope as the god stomped back towards them, the floor vibrating in rhythm. Small mounds of dirt and debris scattered across the barren grey floor bounced around them as the steps grew louder and the vibrations intensified.

  ‘Underneath the edge,’ Sonora said, pulling him into the shadowed overhang below the worlds and then throwing her cloak over herself as a canopy. The material’s colour matched the floor perfectly. It was exceptional camouflage even at close range.

  Harl did the same as the god stomped back towards them, but pulled his head into the hood so that he could still see what was going on.

  The god’s hand came down, clasped the tray’s handle, and lifted. The tray rose up as the god walked back through the archway. Lights from the worlds flickered off, one by one, dimming sections of the floor until it left them in complete darkness.

  They were free.

  Chapter 24

  My illness worsens. Maybe all the excitement has taken its toll. I will push on with the plan no matter how much Karvac demands I rest.

  They got little rest during the course of the blackness.

  As they got ready to settle down, Sonora sat up and stared out into the darkness.

  ‘What is it?’ Harl asked.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ she said. ‘Something is out there scuffing the floor or moving across it.’

  He grabbed the sword and stood, letting his cloak fall to the floor as he walked out from under the overhang.

  ‘Out there,’ she said, pointing into the halflight where the black shadows from beyond the archway merged with the wall.

  He stopped and strained to see into the gloom, but couldn’t make out anything, so he closed his eyes and concentrated on the sounds. Sonora’s frightened breaths came from beside him. He focused beyond them and let them fall into the background as he reached out into the darkness for any sound.

  A faint scrabbling came from somewhere far in the distance. It was barely audible to his ears, but Sonora was right, they were not alone.

  After what seemed an age the sounds faded.

  ‘I’ll keep watch,’ he said, hoping that he sounded more confident than he felt.

  Sonora crawled back under her cloak and settled down. He could hear her tossing and turning as the dark cycle crept by.

  Perhaps her thoughts, like his own, were fixated on the practise of selling people? It was barbaric. The thought of any human being sold made him sick. It stripped away any sense of freedom and the shuddering implication that there might be thousands of tank worlds out there chilled him to the bone and made the darkness pressing down around him all the heavier.

  Or maybe Sonora was still worried about whatever creature was lurking out there in the darkness? Harl had no way of telling what the darkness was hiding. It could be anything, one of the gods walking around, humans trapped in jars, or just the wind playing with their senses.

  But he just couldn’t shake the images of that man and the boy trapped inside those transport cubes. Even the thought of a creature lurking out in the darkness seemed like a shallow fear compared to the churning nightmare that all those people were enduring.

  How could the gods be selling people?

  Seeing his parents lifted had severed his link to religion long ago, but his core ideas still clung to those beliefs. He had always been taught that the gods cared for humanity. The gifting was a blessing from the One True God which demonstrated its benevolent nature. Yes, people were taken, but it was just a punishment meted out by the gods. The Eldermen had always put it down to people straying from their beliefs or committing crimes. The liftings were just the One True God’s way and, whether you believed in the teachings or not, it was a fact you had to live with.

  But all of that had been on the inside. Leaving the tanks had revealed too many truths. People weren’t lift
ed for punishment or to be taken to paradise; they were lifted to be sold.

  How long had the barbaric market been running? What kind of profit was there in a human? The giftings, the other worlds, the variety of people segregated within them, it was all artificial. The tanks had been set up for them by the gods and, like fish bred in a barrel, humans swam endlessly around waiting to be picked. They had no way of knowing that they were being bartered and sold. They were just playthings used for the amusement of the creatures they worshipped.

  His mind reeled under the onslaught of it all. In the end exhaustion won out. He slipped into a deep sleep and dreamt of joining the flame-haired boy and man in his own container. The sides would shrink every time he moved until it crushed him and he reappeared in a new container for the process to repeat itself.

  It was still dark when Sonora’s movements woke him. A flicker of light shone out across a space at the far end of the realm. They had come from that direction and, as Harl stepped out from the overhang to take a look, another section lit up, followed by a third and a fourth. The lights inside the tanks were switching on one at a time and he watched, amazed, as the whole wall of worlds flickered into life. The long realm was bathed in light from the worlds, revealing the rough textures of the walls and the smooth, polished floor. They stood in what could only be described as a hallway for giants. The floor, the roof and the walls were washed in shades of ashen grey.

  They ate a brief meal while casting constant glances up at the archway as if expecting one of the creatures to enter at any moment. A soft wind blew through it and stirred small bits of debris on the floor. It brought with it a faint smell of something foul, an odour of corruption that seemed to match the sickening trade that occurred on the far side.

  ‘Along the base of the tanks or through the archway?’ Harl asked, standing, finally, and slinging a bag over one shoulder. He knew they had been avoiding the question.

  They could leave the safety of the overhang and head directly for the archway. There might be shelter under one of the tables out there, but it was a gamble. Without the safety of the overhang they would be easy to spot by the gods as they tried to cross the floor, and there was still the risk of being snatched up by whatever they’d heard during the night. Moving was a risk, but so was staying put.