Lorde rose and followed the teacher while the rest of the lamebren remained in class. Zinnia approached Berk and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, a thick glaze of unshed tears in his eyes.
‘We’ll find a way to bring them back,’ she promised.
*****
Commander Burdock’s house was like a huge square box. The rooms were demarcated by transparent walls, laden with curtains. Furniture slid in and out to create space and adjust around corners and walls, in monotones of grey. In contrast, the garden was flourishing with exotic varieties of flowers in all shades of orange which Zinnia could only smell and not identify. As she worked with the Lawnrover and the Trimark, Plucker and Cleanster, she wondered what task Camilla had been delegated.
Camilla had been assigned to Commander Burdock’s house and since Cheska had moved to the new Ret Cabana, Zinnia was ordered to accompany Camilla. The look of relief on Camilla’s face when Zinnia’s name had been announced for duty with her to Commander Burdock’s, had brought back the conversation she had had with the lamebirl the previous night.
Now, Zinnia turned off the Lawnrover and listened for sounds from inside the house. Commander Burdock lived alone, so it wasn’t surprising that she could hear nothing. A little curious, she edged towards a window which was tiny and low. Through the sound-proof sliding panel of the window, she caught sight of Commander Burdock at his table, his head bent and writing on his padlet. Right opposite him sat Camilla, her hands crossed in her lap demurely but her eyes glazed and unfocused. Zinnia watched the scene, perplexed. Why did the Commander insist that Camilla sit before him doing nothing? Altklugs very rarely paid any attention to any of the lamebren, then why this special treatment to Camilla? Even as she puzzled, suddenly the shutters of the window dropped down, blanking out all view. It startled Zinnia. For moments, she stood staring at the shutters, a sense of unease gripping her.
On an impulse, she headed to the main door and crept towards the Commander’s room. Pausing at a glass window, she inhaled deeply and slowly peeped inside the room. What she saw singed her like a burning beam. The room was dark but vision was still possible. Commander Burdock was seated in the same position, except he was leaning forward, an odd, excited look on his fleshy face. So was Camilla, but her eyes were now closed and her face tilted at an angle. However, Zinnia was not looking at her. Her attention was riveted to the images that were being projected over the lamebirl’s head. For a moment, her young mind couldn’t grasp what was happening and then like a jolt, instinctively she knew.
Simulated images...simulated feelings...like the kind Bamian had explained in class except that this was different...this was wrong and far more horrifying! Camilla was making soft moaning sounds and swaying sensuously. Her instinct screamed voicelessly in revolt and her skin crawled. The images shook her to the core. Sweat broke out on her forehead and for a moment she shut her eyes, she had to think...think...should she barge in and stop this wicked scene? But then she would be banished, perhaps even to the Dissolution Crypt and then that would be the end of it all. Or should she just rush back to the Cubicle and complain? But who would listen to her or believe her? And what about the amount of shame it would bring Camilla? Trapped in her own confusion, Zinnia lost precious moments. She couldn’t just stand here doing nothing. She had to stop this...now...forever! She had to do something! Anger and frustration clamped her in a grip. And then, out of the blue, she knew what she had to do.
She rushed out and snapped the public digi-eye from its box. Fumbling with the cable, she adjusted it quickly to her padlet. Then switching the digi-eye on, she hastened to her previous vantage point. The window afforded a plain view of what was transpiring inside and Zinnia trained the digi-eye on the Commander. She covered as much as she could keeping Camilla’s simulated visions out of shot. She took a close shot of the Commander’s greedy, lusty eyes and groping hands, then panned to shoot Camilla’s face and trance. Revulsion and bile rose inside her, choking her, but she curbed it...she had to do this...she had to be strong if she had to protect Camilla, she told herself repeatedly.
Finally, satisfied that she had enough proof, she hastened out again, unplugged the digi-eye and returned to the Lawnrover. But her palms were sweaty and her heart was pounding painfully. Her mouth tasted dirty and she wanted to spit and rinse. She closed her eyes to the stark images but the scene repeated itself with renewed clarity. So now she understood why the Commander specifically asked for Camilla to be assigned to his house, why she was always asked to sit and do nothing and why Cheska was always doing duty outside in the garden. All this while, the Commander had been using Camilla...that monster of an Altklug!
When Bamian had said that the lamebren did not understand fully the extent of the giant leaps of knowledge the Altklugs had taken, could he have ever meant this? Could all those leaps of knowledge justify this—the maligning of a lamebirl’s honour? Or the smear of disgracing an innocent?
Poor, poor Camilla, she would feel terrible when she knew. For no fault of hers, shame and dishonour would dog her all her short life. Every moment would be an accusation and every day would be a trauma. When she knew....if she knew...that’s right, Zinnia thought with sudden, clear realisation, if Camilla knew...but then she needn’t know...she needn’t be put through hell...and Cheska? What about him? Always so protective about his twin… If only Iris was here, she would have known what to do, whom to speak with, she would’ve taken control and relieved Zinnia of the heart-breaking burden that had suddenly befallen her.
Ten minutes later, Camilla appeared at the entrance of the house, her face drawn and drained. ‘Hi! The Commander said we may leave early if we wish,’ she announced. ‘Are you done with the lawn? Seriously I feel so guilty―there I am, doing absolutely nothing and here you are, working your butt off. And yet I feel kind of tired, you know.’
Zinnia couldn’t speak. The lump in her throat felt the size of a moon. She felt as if she would burst with the force of her bottled-up emotions, but she didn’t. She had to face this issue with the strength of a lamebirl. She had to go back to the Cubicle and think. One thing was for certain, Camilla should never know about what had transpired. Most importantly, she could never ever return to Commander Burdock’s house. And it was up to Zinnia to ensure that.
12
Zinnia watched the snowflakes fall through her bedroom window, soft and beautiful, like the glowing petals of snow. Landing on the ground soundlessly and merging with others to thickly coat the snowy road. A tear slowly rolled down followed by another and soon streams of them were gushing down her cheeks. And all the while, she stared at the snowflakes and admired them like a parallel disconnected activity in her mind. She cried hard, emptying the apprehensions, the agony and frustrations from her mind and heart. She cried noiselessly. She didn’t want to wake up Camilla who was sleeping like a child. Camilla had worried and fretted about Cheska and had finally dozed off. Zinnia wanted to protect the lamebirl from further hurt, just the way Iris would’ve done. When the tears dried up and her sobs had converted into sniffs, Zinnia made up her mind. She had to share her secret and the sooner she did it, the better it would be for her dear friend Camilla.
*****
Zinnia had to sit through Bamian’s class, with a patience she had not thought herself capable of. She had to struggle to keep her attention on his lecture as he demonstrated how technology had ensured new body parts with minimal invasive techniques. Finally out of sheer annoyance, she raised her hand.
‘Yes G23,’ Bamian turned his attention to her.
‘Sir, do you believe that this Ace-world—this Dome is a perfect world?’ she asked.
A look of astonishment crossed the Exector’s face. ‘Yes, it is as perfect as perfect can be, without a shadow of doubt.’
‘But then that would depend on the definition of perfection, wouldn’t it?’
‘Take any definition you like: the highest degree of a quality; an exemplification of supreme excellence; an unsurpassable degree of accur
acy or excellence—the Altklug Ace-world fits each definition,’ Bamian replied with a superior smirk.
‘What about “freedom from fault or defect”?’ Zinnia asked.
The rest of the class turned to face her, confused and yet alert. Crispin tried to catch Zinnia’s eye, warning her to be careful. He was quick to notice the rebellious gleam in her eyes.
‘That too, my dear lamebirl. The Altklug Ace-world is superior and protected from any kind of technological vice and free from faults. But for a matter of an interesting discourse, are you suggesting that there are faults in the system?’ Bamian’s tone was mild, but he looked at Zinnia keenly.
‘What I am saying is that mere strides in technology does not make an Ace-world. It is the Altklugs who do and Altklugs are humans, aren’t they? Wouldn’t they make mistakes?’
‘Humans who make mistakes are not Altklugs.’
‘But what if they do?’ Zinnia insisted.
Bamian hesitated, for fraction of a second. ‘If they do, which is the rarest of occurrences, then swift and immediate action would be taken to replace that element from the system. There are no cracks in the Altklug world. It has been perfected over years and years of research and human existence is at its best in this Dome.’ Bamian’s tone brooked no argument but Zinnia was satisfied.
She sat down and passed the anxious Crispin a quick reassuring smile.
******
The expression of sheer disbelief on Crispin’s face said it all. He shook his head, as he grappled with the realisation. A shock of unruly hair fell on his forehead as he paced the floor.
‘The nerve of that Altklug!’ he finally exploded. ‘The creep...the...the...!’
His face was flaming with fury and at his inadequacy to find the exact words to express his horror.
Zinnia put out a hand and stilled him. ‘I know. I went through the exact emotions. And I’ve been awake all night, wondering what to do about it. Whom can we trust? Who can we go to? The Supercustodian?’ she suggested, her voice thickly laced with doubt.
‘Supercustodian!’ Crispin sneered. ‘You would be deported to the Dissolution Crypt or worse still to the Lab, before you can take your next breath.’
‘I thought so too.’ Zinnia sighed. ‘Then who?’
‘Bamian too would be useless. He’s too practical and would probably think Commander Burdock is a genius.’
‘Back at the Ret Cabana, I would’ve spoken to our Peeta. She was a warm and understanding Altklug—not that it would’ve been much use though.’
‘Mirella!’ Crispin snapped his fingers at the idea.
Zinnia’s eyes gleamed. ‘You’re right. Mirella would listen. She would make an effort to understand. Let’s go right away. You will come with me, won’t you?’
‘Of course I will! This is for Camilla...’
Zinnia smiled at Crispin and nodded. She felt a load off her shoulders, now that she had confided in Crispin.
******
The Klugsage room was devoid of any fussy flourishes. The only embellishment was the big Altklug emblem on the wall—a combination of the four Fountains. Three uncluttered metallic tables aligned a wall and at the farthest end sat Mirella. She looked small and approachable as Zinnia and Crispin stood waiting at the glass Demarcator. Crispin pushed a button and Mirella glanced up at them. Without a word, she slid open the Demarcator and Zinnia and Crispin entered the Klugsage room.
Zinnia’s hands were clammy and she felt nervous. This was a big step, disclosing Camilla’s predicament to an Altklug. It was almost like breaching Camilla’s confidence, although ironically, she was totally unaware of the situation. But if at all anyone could help her, it would be Mirella. However, she was still an Altklug and a strict one. How would she take an accusation against a Commander? What would her reaction be? Would Mirella believe her?
‘Yes, G23 and B15, anything the matter?’ Mirella asked shrewdly.
Crispin glanced at Zinnia who gulped apprehensively.
‘Yes, Exector.’
‘Is it urgent? Because I have a class in ten minutes…’
‘Yes, Exector.’
‘Okay. Make it quick.’
‘I would like to show you something, Exector.’
Zinnia opened the screen of her padlet and angled it towards the Exector. Mirella frowned, impatience stamped on her face. But as soon as her eyes rested on the images, she sucked in a quick breath and the look of impatience was replaced by one of incredulity. Zinnia observed the Exector, as her eyes widened and narrowed. Mirella watched the recorded visuals carefully and for once the controlled mask of non-committal indifference slipped. At length, when she glanced up at Zinnia, compassion reflected in her eyes.
‘I won’t ask you how you recorded this. Without a doubt, this episode is in very poor taste. We need to take immediate action before acts such as these contaminate the Altklug Dome and repute. I need to think this out.’
Zinnia was silent. Mirella had reacted in exactly the manner she had hoped. Sensitively and without much fuss.
‘I will have to consider this very seriously. Commander Burdock is a much-respected Altklug and the Altklugs uphold his high standing in society. You will have to give me some time to handle this.’
‘But Exector, Cami...G11 will be sent back to Commander Burdock on assignment soon and we...’
‘No, she won’t. I shall speak to Supercustodian,’ Mirella cut in smoothly. ‘In the meanwhile, speak to no one of this. We will have to maintain strict secrecy, you understand? This would mean a high-profile investigation and in our world that means a lot. Now go back to class. Tell them I’ll be there in ten minutes.’
But ten minutes later, Mirella had still not arrived. Instead, Bosco appeared to inform the lamebren that Mirella had been called away and they would not have class that day. Crispin and Zinnia walked out into the garden, so as to be out of earshot.
‘What do you think?’ Zinnia wondered.
‘Like she said―it’s high profile. They would all probably have a meeting since Commander Burdock is a top level guy. It would be difficult to accuse him of something so debasing.’
‘But I have the holo-view.’
‘Which is the only reason why Mirella had to forward this issue, I guess. But my only concern is for Camilla. Remember what happened with Iris? The fault lay with Preceptor Sven as well, but it was Iris who was sent to the Dissolution Crypt.’
‘You mean…’ Zinnia appeared shocked. The thought that Camilla may face the same fate as Iris hadn’t even occurred to her. ‘No, that was different. They loved each other―wait, you knew?’
A half smile touched Crispin’s lips. ‘I am neither blind nor deaf. I tried to warn her, but she pretended as if she didn’t know what I was talking about.’
‘Poor Iris...’ Zinnia’s voice trailed. She missed the beautiful lamebirl badly. If only Iris was alive.
‘Iris was reckless. She probably just got tired of the Altklug Ace-world, living and obeying their set of rules and conditions. I think, she simply wanted a world of her own,’ Crispin guessed.
He had no clue how close he was to the truth, Zinnia thought. Slaves, she had called the lamebren. And now more than ever, Zinnia could see how right she had been.
‘Anyway, it won’t be the same with Camilla. After all, this is exploitation, not an act of mutual consent,’ she remarked.
‘And that is precisely what the Altklugs are going to ask us—how do you know that it wasn’t an act of mutual consent?’
‘Because then Camilla would know, wouldn’t she?’
‘She could be lying as far as their argument goes.’
‘No!’
‘We are dealing with Altklugs here. They would go to any extent to protect their image of a perfect world. Commander Burdock is a chink in that world. They would either root him out or cover the chink so expertly that it would never show,’ Crispin concluded.
Zinnia was silent. She suddenly felt very uneasy. What if Crispin was right and Camilla had to take th
e blame for something she wasn’t even aware of? Oh dear! Had they been wrong in going to Mirella for a solution?
‘I think we’ll know in sixty minutes what the Altklugs are planning to do—play it fair and do justice or play it biased and cover up their chink,’ Zinnia said gloomily.
‘All I know is, if things don’t work out in our favour, I promise you I won’t allow Camilla to go the Iris way. I’ll take her and escape into the Snarl!’ he said in such a fierce voice that Zinnia was a little taken aback. And yet she was reassured. Crispin was a real friend.
But 60 minutes later there was still no news from Mirella. With every passing hour, Zinnia’s worry quadrupled. Why hadn’t Mirella got back yet? What was going on in the top circles of the Altklug Bureaus ? She wished she knew. If only there was some way of finding out.
By dinner time, Zinnia was so tightly strung with anxiety that food tasted like snow. She and Crispin kept Camilla by their side, under some pretence or the other. Since Cheska wasn’t around the lamebirl was grateful for their company. They had just finished dinner and the Server had marched away with their plates, when Bosco appeared in the Superkitchen.
‘G23 and B15, you have been summoned at once,’ he announced.
Zinnia’s heart skipped a beat.
Camilla frowned and looked at them and so did the rest of the lamebren.
‘Now what...are they taking you two somewhere?’ her voice was almost a wail.
‘Sh...no, I’m sure it’s not that,’ Crispin said swiftly. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll be back. Supercustodian must have some query that’s all.’
Zinnia couldn’t help noticing how protective Crispin had become of Camilla ever since Cheska’s absence. And it was a good thing, because right now, Camilla needed all the support she could get. They hastened after Bosco as he led the way to the hall. Supercustodian was standing by the entrance doors of the Cubicle.
Revolt of the Lamebren: Book 1 of the Super-Dome Chronicles Page 12
