Revolt of the Lamebren: Book 1 of the Super-Dome Chronicles

by Manjiri Prabhu

  18

  ‘Constitutional Rights!’ Cheska exclaimed. ‘I had no idea we had any such rights.’

  ‘Exactly! Zinnia feels that you should use your “Right to choose your home”,’ Crispin explained.

  Camilla, Crispin and Zinnia had met the three lamebren from the Ret Cabana by the lake, which had now become their favourite meeting spot.

  Zinnia glanced from Cheska to Maisie and Reed and anxiety pinched her unexpectedly. All three looked conspicuously thinner, with the beginnings of dark patches under their eyes. Maisie’s hair was untidily braided and Cheska’s close-cropped curls seemed to have flattened. His normally pink cheeks were shades lighter than his twin’s. All three were a picture of careless boredom. As if these things didn’t matter anymore. As if life was beginning to be just a chore.

  ‘Right to choose where we live...And how do we go about executing our right?’ Maisie asked, a little wearily.

  ‘Why not go up to the Supercustodian and tell her directly that you wish to return to the Cubicle?’ Zinnia suggested.

  Cheska and Reed exchanged an incredulous look, as if she had just stated the worst course of action.

  ‘Zinnia, you have no idea what you are talking about. It’s just not that simple,’ Reed stated, his voice revealing more a note of sadness, than exasperation.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Camilla asked.

  ‘The atmosphere at the Ret Cabana is unhealthy. And Supercustodian is ten folds worse than what she was here,’ Maisie replied, gloomily. ‘Cheska can’t play the floflute anymore. Yesterday, when he was playing a tune, Supercustodian snatched it from him. It was hours later that she finally returned the floflute with a stern warning. And there is very little reading material at the Ret Cabana. We have classes but it’s mostly repetition and exercises, as if no one’s really interested in teaching us anything.’

  ‘And do you still hear those awful mourning sounds and feel the shock vibrations?’ Zinnia asked.

  Cheska nodded, ‘Yes, those too.’

  He glanced at the other two, a question in his eyes. They all appeared tightly strung and looked like pale shadows of their earlier happy personalities.

  ‘What is it, Cheska?’ Camilla asked shrewdly.

  ‘Actually, this morning we made a discovery which was kind of chilling. But we don’t want to worry you unnecessarily...’ Cheska’s voice trailed.

  ‘Now you are worrying me.’ Crispin frowned.

  ‘Tell them, they ought to know,’ Maisie suggested and Reed nodded in agreement.

  ‘Ok, I guess, you ought to know too.’ Cheska sighed. ‘This morning, I was assigned the duty of cleaning the windows of the Ret Cabana. I was given this tiny Cleaner and I quite enjoyed the task, till I came to the Forbidden Rooms’ section. The shutters were drawn over the windows so I couldn’t see much inside but just at the last window, at this one spot, the shutters had parted and the sun streamed into the dark room. And what I saw made my blood go cold...’

  Zinnia leaned forward, ‘What was it?’ she asked, her voice a whisper.

  ‘A lamebroy was strapped to a chair. His head was lolling on the side, as if he was asleep. As my eyes got accustomed to the dark in the room, I noticed another person right beside the boy, in a similar condition. Then I noticed that a lot of wires were attached to them, with lights flashing occasionally through the wires. It was when I saw the black uniform of the first boy that I realised he was a lamebroy. And the second...’ Cheska swept his tongue over his dry lips, ‘I recognised the second figure. His head was turned towards the window and his eyes were slightly open. But he was definitely unconscious. It was Preceptor Sven!’

  Zinnia, Crispin and Camilla gaped at Cheska, stunned into silence for moments.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Zinnia asked, finally.

  ‘Positive.’

  ‘That is when we realised that Preceptor Sven and the lamebroy were being used in some kind of experiment,’ Reed concluded.

  ‘And the realisation is so frightening...’ Maisie’s voice trembled faintly.

  ‘So those awful, mourning sounds belonged to these two?’ Crispin confirmed. He flung a hand through his mop of hair, as if he needed to do something to drive away the sudden prick of anxiety.

  ‘We think so. They are in horrible pain and we have no idea what the heck is happening at the Ret Cabana!’ Cheska exclaimed.

  ‘This is really shocking,’ Zinnia murmured almost to herself.

  ‘So, Iris was sent to the Dissolution Crypt and Preceptor Sven to the new Ret Cabana. This is his punishment. He was, after all, a Betrayer...and a Betrayer’s fate is far worse than a person sentenced to the Dissolution Crypt,’ Crispin remarked.

  They all stared at him in silence.

  ‘But the main question still remains―what are we doing in that Ret Cabana?’ Reed asked.

  He glanced at the rest of them through his glasses, his hollow checks like little dents on his thin face. And Zinnia read the unspoken words in his eyes―Were they next on the list for the Altklug experiments?

  Zinnia had wondered time and again if only Iris had been punished for her treacherous behaviour. She had been curious about what had happened to Preceptor Sven, but there had been no way of knowing. Well, now she knew. Preceptor Sven, an equal partner in their crime of love, had been sentenced to a lifetime of torture. And this, according to the Altklugs, was justice. A life packed with horror because he had dared to fall in love with a lamebirl.

  Zinnia felt agitated. When Iris had been sent to her death, she had barely been able to bear the loss, feeling the injustice of it all. It was her parents’ death which was a true eye-opener. Witnessing them being literally dragged to the Dissolution Crypt, had changed her life forever. If that was not all, Cheska had brought the news of the lamebroy and Preceptor Sven being subjected to horrendous experiments.

  For the first time, she perceived it all clearly. Without a glimmer of doubt, the Altklugs were going about this all wrong. Their ‘perfect’ world was just an illusion that they wanted desperately to preserve and believe in. If they could send their own people―who had spent all their lives working diligently for the good of the Altklug Ace-world―without the slightest qualm to the Dissolution Crypts, then there had to be something wrong with the system. Or if they could subject Preceptor Sven to a life of pain and terror, without a hint of pity simply because he fell in love with a lamebirl, then they were more regressed than she thought. These could not be super-adults, these were just heartless machines in the guise of humans. And it was time that they faced the truth.

  They had to realise that their perfect world was not ruled by human beings but by robots. Their flawed thinking lay not in their mantra of ‘time and efficiency’ but equating efficiency with an Altklug’s existence, to use an Altklug as a continuous productive use of resource, and considering old age to be the end of a person’s competence, was almost immoral. Treating the drained and exhausted old Altklug like a useless, depleted well of knowledge, meant that knowledge had turned into a curse for them. They may have proved that knowledge paved a path to progress, but ignorance was not the end of the world. Achievement did spell success, but failure to deliver, need not be a crime.

  Zinnia sighed, logic clearing her thoughts. If living by your emotions meant that you were retarded, then she didn’t mind being one. If going slow and steady meant being retarded, she didn’t mind the pace. What mattered was not a life of peak efficiency, important because of your utility years, but the quality of the life as a whole. Life could not be a race against technology. Knowledge was important, but knowledge could not decide your existence. Because human beings were not made of knowledge, they were made of flesh and bones and feelings and emotions.

  An inner determination fuelled Zinnia’s mind. The constant debate and indignation in her mind had reached a head and she knew, with sudden clarity, what she had to do.

  *****

  ‘G23 and B15, you have been assigned duty at the Governor’s House this evening,’ Colone
l Kripton informed. ‘It is short notice and a little out of character but Commander Hertz specially asked you two to be assigned.’

  Zinnia and Crispin glanced at each other.

  ‘There’s a small dinner party at the Governor House and some important guests from the other Super-Domes are scheduled to arrive. G23 you will take charge of the holo-view coverage of the function, but be careful not to appear before the guests. Please record from a strategic point in the House. And B15 you will help out in the kitchens. There will be lamebren from other Cubicles too, but please do not interact with anyone else. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes Sir,’ Crispin responded and Zinnia nodded.

  Colonel Kripton extracted a flat, finger size unit from his pocket.

  ‘This is the digi-eye. Excellent resolution and fantastic zoom with an automatic 360 degrees rotation.’ He handed it to Zinnia. ‘Apparently the Commander thinks you would be able to handle it well.’

  Zinnia understood immediately why the Commander felt so. He was referring to the shots she had taken of Commander Burdock and Camilla. This was his style of reciprocating with sarcasm.

  ‘The spinner is already outside. You should leave at once. Remember, talk to no one and just do your job.’

  Zinnia and Crispin were led to the sleek, black spinner, waiting in the drive. The other lamebren, who were in the hall, were surprised as their two friends climbed into the vehicle. The spinner shot forward and as usual Zinnia and Crispin did not utter a single word. But Zinnia’s mind was churning with thoughts—thoughts of her parents, of the Constitutional Rights and Preceptor Sven and she ached to get off this assignment. Contradictorily, she was also curious about Governor Tisya’s house. How would it be? How did the Supremo of the Super-Dome live?

  Her curiosity was satiated within minutes as the spinner zipped into the Fountain of Conscience Quarter. The Governor’s House was unlike anything Zinnia had ever seen. In the midst of vast lawns, it was a stately monument in armour-like glass. As Crispin and she passed through the enormous doorway and into the hall, the colours of the glass walls changed from green on the outside to yellow on the inside. A central stairway led to the upper rooms which hinted at an orange and blue display. Zinnia was mystified. She would have never imagined Governor Tisya to reveal such a flamboyant taste in her house.

  Bozo, the Humanoid appeared. ‘About time. B15 to the kitchen at once and G23, you will stay upstairs and take the shots from above. No coming down until the meal is over, is that understood?’ His voice was brisk and formal.

  Crispin was whisked away and Zinnia barely had time to say good luck. She made her way past the glittering, sleek table laid out for ten guests. Then up the stairs which were carpeted in a velvet green material. If she hadn’t known, Zinnia would’ve thought that they were made out of natural lawn. Once up the stairs, the scene was as grand as she could imagine. The colourful glass walls, lit from the inside with pale lights, gave the hall a feel of ethereal elegance. Zinnia extracted the small digi-eye and aimed it at the hall. Instantly, it began rolling. She took the embossed images of the four fountains on the hall glass walls, next she panned to her right. A beautiful, long corridor of orange glass led into several rooms.

  Curiosity got the better of her, and she slowly ventured down the curtained corridor. It was just as she neared the end of the passage that she overheard the sobbing. It was loud and rusty almost as if the person was not used to crying. Zinnia peeped from behind the curtain, her digi-eye still rolling. Governor Tisya was seated on the bed, sobbing, as if her heart would break. She held a photo in her hand, which she kissed from time to time. ‘My poor sister!’ She muttered loudly and moaned as if in pain. Commander Hertz stood beside her. He bent and whispered something into her ear and she instantly turned and hugged him. Stunned, Zinnia stepped back and almost lost her footing. The scene was so unbelievable and mind-boggling that she whirled around and hastened down the corridor back to her position on the top of the stairs. But her heart was beating erratically and she willed herself to calm her nerves. What had she just witnessed? She wondered, her mind still reeling. The sobbing, the muttering and finally the hug―this was not just an obvious exhibition of emotions, this was a revelation. She opened her padlet, inserted the digi-eye into it and transferred the byte she had just shot. Then, carefully she erased it all from the digi-eye.

  When finally the guests arrived and Governor Tisya emerged from her room to greet them, there were no telltale signs of her outburst. She was calm and collected and she swept down the stairs regally without affording a glance in Zinnia’s direction. She shook hands with the Altklugs and spoke a few welcoming words to each one of them. Their different coloured uniforms represented the different Super-Domes but they were exact replicas of each other with shining intelligent faces and brief sentences. The dinner lasted for sixty minutes. Governor Tisya smiled formally and the discussion moved forward with apt promptings from the Commander. Everything was minutely organised and flawlessly implemented. Only Zinnia had been a witness to how close Governor Tisya had come to disrupting her evening.

  19

  ‘I’ve thought really hard about this. And I’ve decided what we need to do,’ Zinnia announced. ‘We will write out a petition, make an appointment with Governor Tisya and present it to her.’

  The others stared at her incredulously. Their reaction was exactly as she had expected.

  ‘Bad idea,’ Azalea declared.

  ‘Crazy, absolutely crazy,’ Berk pitched in.

  ‘Why is that?’ Zinnia asked patiently, looking from one to the other.

  ‘For one, Governor Tisya won’t entertain any such petitions,’ Crispin remarked.

  ‘She won’t even meet an insignificant lamebirl like you or anyone of us,’ Ivy added, flicking her long braid behind her.

  ‘As for agreeing to an appointment, well, they would instead parcel you off to the Isolation Chamber for even suggesting such a thing,’ Berk predicted.

  ‘Ok, I understand all your misgivings and apprehensions. But I’ve also given this a great deal of thought and I have come to the conclusion that the best way to approach our situation is the direct way. It is our only hope. Look, Crispin and I have been to Governor Tisya’s house and have some idea of the kind of person she is. I want to give this a try. Is anyone going to support me in this venture?’ Zinnia stared pointedly at each of the lamebren.

  ‘How can we support something that spells doom?’ Ivy asked.

  ‘You are assuming that it spells doom. What if it is a success?’

  ‘Zinnia,’ Crispin began in a mature, adult one. ‘You are young and hopeful and believe that some miracle will change the mindset of the Altklugs. But you have to understand that this is the way they are born and brought up. They are wired that way. Besides, where Preceptor Amadeus has not succeeded, how would you?’

  ‘Because Preceptor Amadeus is not a lamebirl, I am. I know the life we lead, the problems we face. We all do. So a petition that comes from all of us is bound to be regarded with some seriousness. Even if it is discarded, it will awaken some thinking, don’t you think?’ Zinnia persisted. ‘So, is anyone going to help me with it?’

  They were gathered in the garden, during lunch break. Zinnia caught sight of Lorde in the hall, peeping out of the window from time to time. Bosco was working in the driveway, making some technical adjustments to the Fountain of the Pen. Zinnia had no doubt that his ears were trained on them. She glanced at the serious faces of the other lamebren. Her eyes rested on Camilla, who nodded.

  ‘I will,’ she replied, with a half-smile on her lips.

  ‘I will too,’ Crispin added, his chin-dimple showing.

  ‘Good!’ Zinnia was delighted.

  ‘Okay, since you are so bent on it, I will too but don’t say I didn’t warn you it would be a failure.’ Berk shrugged.

  ‘Think positive.’ Zinnia hugged the plump boy.

  He looked embarrassed and shoved her away.

  ‘Well, I guess we all are in,
’ Ivy grimaced and Cylia nodded.

  Zinnia looked at Azalea for her confirmation. The frail-looking lamebirl sighed.

  ‘Okay,’ she remarked softly.

  ‘Great!’ Zinnia exclaimed. ‘Thank you! We need to start work at once―do lots of research. Camilla you will find data on the number of lamebren living in all the four Cubicles. Ivy and Cylia, you will dig up the history on lamebren, how they came about, etc. Berk―you and Azalea will make a list of the lamebren in this Ret Cubicle and their qualities, their nature, their creative pursuits. All set?’

  The lamebren nodded. A glint of amusement shone in Crispin’s eyes. Zinnia was a natural at taking leadership.

  ‘So we meet tonight and share notes. Crispin and I will now approach the Supercustodian and ask him to take an appointment with the Governor.’

  ‘Good luck!’ the others chorused and Zinnia smiled.

  *****

  ‘We can’t go in now. Commander Hertz is with him,’ Crispin said.

  They could clearly see the Commander in conversation with the Supercustodian through the glass Demarcator. It was indeed bad timing. Knowing by their previous experience, Commander Hertz would never permit them to meet the Governor.

  ‘Come on, let’s go before…’ but Crispin’s sentence was cut short by Colonel Kripton.

  ‘Yes, come in G23 and B15,’ the Supercustodian pressed a button and the Demarcator slid aside to allow them to enter.

  The two lamebren inched into the office hesitantly. The Commander turned around and fixed a direct gaze on Zinnia. Instantly, she sensed his antagonism. This guy hated her! She moved a tongue over her dry lips, nervously.