‘I have orders to inform you that the scheduled play has been cancelled. Governor Tisya and Commander Hertz have cancelled the play. As per the old schedule, the lamebren will now be sent to the Dissolution Crypt as soon as the gifts have been distributed,’ Colonel Kripton announced, a stony expression on his face. ‘Till then you are all forbidden to leave the Cubicle. Disobedience of any kind will not be tolerated and will be treated with the utmost harshness.’
He shot the lamebren a final, undecipherable look and strode back to his Office. Bosco remained standing, his hands on his lips and his legs planted firmly on the ground.
24
Immediately the lamebren broke into shocked exclamations and comments. The confusion, combined with a wave of anger, spilled into the hall. Zinnia was stunned. Everything had depended on the successful culmination of the play and now their last route of escape was inadvertently blocked. What could’ve happened? Why had the play been cancelled? Their plans were made in utmost secrecy...Lorde? Her gaze sailed across the hall in search of the lamebroy. He was standing against the wall, listening quietly to the whispered murmurs. Surprisingly, there was no triumphant gleam in his eyes. He stared at the groups formed in the hall, a look of enigmatic indifference on his face.
They trooped up to the Cubicle and huddled on the beds. The spontaneous outpouring of shock was now subdued, into a thick silence.
‘Just like them to cancel the play at the last minute―no explanations, no apologies, just outright cancellation. Why do you think they did it?’Maisie spoke aloud what was up-most in everyone’s mind.
‘I believe Governor Tisya never meant us to perform. She was just having some fun at our expense. It’s her wicked sense of humour I think,’ Reed figured.
‘You could be right. There is no way our plans could’ve been leaked to them, could they?’ Zinnia wondered.
‘Colonel Kripton would’ve said so, wouldn’t he?’
‘The guards have been doubled outside the Cubicle,’ Cheska announced gloomily, looking out of the window into the porch.
‘More Humanoids?’Crispin asked.
‘No, Officers in uniform.’
‘They are worried about something...’ Ivy suggested. ‘Perhaps they have somehowlearned about our plan for escape?’
‘I knew it. It was all a waste of time and energy.’ Azalea sighed. ‘To be honest, I am relieved. At least the pretence and the farce is over and we can go to the Dissolution Crypt peacefully.’
Zinnia shot Camilla and Maisie a worried glance. Azalea was back in her pessimistic mood and could anyone blame her?
‘You were right all along Azalea, I knew it too, ‘Berk added. ‘It’s funny that we really thought we could outwit the great Altklugs and escape from the Super-Dome. We are stupid and pitiable and we are doomed to death after all.’
‘Stop it you two!’Crispin exclaimed. ‘All is not lost yet.’
‘Really? Is there anything left?’ Reed couldn’t help asking.
‘Tomorrow is the festival. Tomorrow night we will be executed. What do you see changing from today to tomorrow?’ Ivy asked patiently, a note of annoyance underlying her tone.
‘Listen, everyone. I know that now that the play has been cancelled, our only chance of escape seems to have dissolved. But let’s not give up hope,’ Zinnia said.
‘It’s easy for you to say―you are not the one being sent to the Dissolution Crypt tomorrow!’ Ivy blurted.
Instantaneously, an awkward silence dropped into the room. Zinnia experienced a stab of hurt, but she did not retaliate. The twins glanced at each other, their pink faces pinker. Cylia stopped fiddling with her pony and Berk shot an anxious glance at Reed. Crispin closed his eyes, shook his head and pursed his lips.
‘You’re right, she isn’t going to be sent to the Dissolution Crypt like the rest of us,’ Camilla spoke up with a hint of temper. ‘Which is why, like Lorde, she should’ve opted to keep away from the bunch of us and leave us to our fate. But she didn’t. She unselfishly put her life on line and insisted on finding a way to save us all. She must be crazy I think, because only a crazy person would waste her time on a bunch of ungrateful lamebren!’
Ivy had the grace to look ashamed. ‘I’m sorry...’
‘No, don’t be...it’s all right, really,’ Zinnia cut in quickly. ‘I understand perfectly what each one of you is going through this moment. It may not be my turn for the Dissolution Crypt just yet, but a big part of me will die if all of you have to ultimately leave tomorrow.’
Zinnia spoke with such sincerity and feeling that Camilla hugged her and Cylia followed her example.
‘But I firmly believe in Miracles. We must all believe in them...’ she said.
Her gaze met Crispin’s and he nodded.
‘Yes, we should believe in miracles. It’s our only hope...’
******
The lamebren stayed in the Cubicle, talking in low voices. As night fell and Snow Hour began, it became cooler. No one wanted to eat, so they huddled together in the room. The door burst open and Crispin walked in, dragging Lorde after him.
‘Here’s the culprit! The reason why Governor Tisya cancelled our play!’ he announced.
Zinnia stared at Lorde.
‘He didn’t...’
‘Yes he did! I caught him laughing, loud and alone in our room and I knew at once. He squealed to Colonel Kripton about our plans. Tell them yourself, you scoundrel.’
Lorde had lost his usual swaggering confidence. ‘I thought if I told them about your idea, I would never be sent to the Dissolution Crypt. So I reported to Colonel Kripton that you have planned to put up some kind of a fight. He wanted to know how you planned to escape and when, but I swear I didn’t tell them anything more.’
‘That’s because you didn’t know anything more,’ Zinnia remarked, her voice thick with sarcasm. ‘Seriously, you are worse than I imagined, Lorde.’
The other lamebren stared at the lamebroy with such unconcealed revulsion in their eyes that for the first time Lorde revealed fear. He cowered in a corner in fright, a shock of untidy hair falling over his mean face.
******
Sleep seemed to have escaped from the thick walls of the Cubicle, replaced by a dark veil of sorrow. Outside, the Officers patrolled around the Super-Dome, snow covering their small footprints in minutes. Even Colonel Kripton did not retire for the night. The snow continued to fall and as Zinnia stared out of the window, she realised with a little start that perhaps this would be the last time she would see the snow from her window. The soft snowflakes―beautiful, white creations of nature which provided the perfect and magical relief to her disturbed mind. The snowflakes, which in her deepest reflections she had associated with the lamebren. If something happened to the lamebren tomorrow, she would never be able to enjoy this image ever again.
‘Cheska, why don’t you play some songs on your floflute?’ Camilla suggested.
‘Yes, do play something. It will feel so good...’ Azalea agreed.
Zinnia glanced at the lamebirl worriedly. Since the announcement that evening, Azalea seemed to have given up on life entirely. It was as if she was shrinking of her own volition. She seemed frailer than usual and her eyes were lustreless.
Cheska extracted his floflute from his pocket and within seconds, the room echoed with the music from the instrument. The notes were so sweet and enchanting, that the room filled with a soothing balm for the sad, aching hearts. Camilla began singing with the tune and one by one the others joined in. Zinnia wrapped a blanket around Azalea and thrust the window open. A cold, gentle breeze swept into the room and a smattering of snow travelled to the windowsill. Very soon the resonating sounds of the floflute and the accompanying chorus travelled through the open window into Colonel Kripton’s room. He shivered as the singing seemed to clutch at his heart.
The night carried the sweet songs and notes far and wide, past closed doors, closed K. Ports and offices and into the homes of the Altklugs. The musical hum throughout the dark nigh
t sent ripples of unrest amidst them. This was worse than the mourning of the Siren of Departure. That they could understand and identify with, but they couldn’t understand the melodious, touching music of love and life.
At dawn, when the sky was stained with pink and orange, one by one, the lamebren fell asleep out of sheer fatigue. Only Zinnia stayed awake by the window and stared at the glory of nature. The snow had melted leaving the roads wet and clean. But the frequencies of their heartrending songs seemed to linger for a while and were gradually absorbed by the natural ambience of the Super-Dome.
Breakfast was grand and instead of the Server serving it, it was laid out in the form of a buffet on a long table. Titillating aromas lifted from the array of exotic dishes but Zinnia could barely touch anything. Her stomach growled with hunger but the food tasted like dust. A special goodbye breakfast before they slaughtered the lamebren. Would lunch be even bigger and better than this meal? She glanced at the others and they too were fiddling with their food. How could one possibly eat when death was round the corner, looming low and ready to strike? Did they really deserve this trauma? And did the Altklugs really enjoy inflicting this pain or were they so far gone that they did not even feel the pleasure? Zinnia shook her head, perplexed. And she had thought she was beginning to understand the Altklugs...
‘Officers still outside,’ Crispin reported. ‘I wonder what exactly it is that they fear. That a bunch of harmless lamebren would rebel? Threaten them? Or point a weapon at them?’
Zinnia couldn’t help smiling. ‘I believe that they fear we may appeal to their heart.’
‘Unlikely. Heartless people like Altklugs need never fear that,’ Cheska added.
They returned to their room and once again settled on their beds. Azalea’s hands were cold, so Ivy and Maisie took turns rubbing her palms. Cheska had no wish to play the floflute and he and Camilla sat holding hands. Crispin looked as if he had just cleaned out his room. He hadn’t bothered to comb his hair and he sat pinching his dimpled chin. Reed suddenly rose and began pacing the floor. For once, Berk’s attention was not on his friend. He kept rubbing his clammy hands against his trousers.
With a heavy heart, Zinnia observed her friends struggling to remain composed. The smell and presence of death seemed to pervade each corner of the room. And it was beginning to touch the brave spirit of her friends.
Waiting seem to be their only chore now. Waiting for the final call, Zinnia thought, counting the hours which were only too fast dissolving into minutes and seconds before they hug each other, weep and say goodbye. Then each one would be strapped to the chair and the automation process would begin. A machine ray would stop the heart and the bodies would be disposed off in the pit behind the Diaphanous Seal and within hours the body would vanish without a trace...the lamebren would exist as mere faceless numbers in the padlets, a page of history that no one would be interested in opening. Instead, the Altklugs would be fanatically inclined towards sweeping the remnant memories into oblivion. Zinnia instantly closed her eyes to her own disturbing thoughts.
‘Dear Universe as Leo calls you...please help us...this is unfair, all wrong! If there are miracles in this world, let there be one now, please help us...’ she prayed fervently. Her passionate plea seemed to emerge from the bottom of her heart, touched with humility, yearning and desperation.
It was ten minutes later that Bosco came trudging into the room.
‘There’s a visitor for all of you. Supercustodian has called you downstairs,’ he remarked in his gruff voice.
A visitor! Was it Leo? Zinnia wondered in surprise. Would Leo dare to enter the Super-Dome in broad daylight? Wouldn’t he be recognised and caught?
But it wasn’t Leo. Zinnia was taken aback to see the short figure, his bald head shining with the glow of knowledge. Preceptor Amadeus! He turned to them as they trooped into the mirrored hall. His gaze rested on Zinnia and his brilliant, intelligent face broke into a kind smile.
‘G23, if I remember right,’ he remarked and his voice was soft and gentle.
‘Yes, Sir but I like to call myself Zinnia,’ she replied.
‘Zinnia is a better name, I agree. I have a bit of news for all of you.’
A spark of hope lit up inside Zinnia. The Preceptor’s mild gaze moved around the lamebren, assessing and gauging before returning to the thermionic paper he was holding in his hand.
‘Good morning everyone,’ he greeted pleasantly. ‘Your play got cancelled because the Governor heard that you had a plan to escape your death. That is why security was tightened. No one, absolutely no one can escape death. However, I believe that your last wish should be granted and that is why I have got special orders for you to perform tonight. I had to convince the Governor that you lamebren were incapable and ill-equipped to plan an escape and that she need not worry. She finally agreed and although security has been beefed up, you will be able to perform tonight.’
Zinnia could not believe their luck! She shot a happy glance at Crispin and the twins. Some of the lamebren let out a spontaneous gasp of joy. Preceptor Amadeus turned a stern face on them, but his eyes were twinkling.
‘Thank you, Sir!’Zinnia was so relieved and happy that she sounded breathless.
‘Thank you, Sir!’ the others chorused.
The Preceptor looked directly at Zinnia and the twinkle in his eyes vanished. ‘Ten minutes, you understand? You have only ten minutes to fulfil your last wish tonight.’
Then he strode away―a rather stout and jaunty figure with a glistening bald head. But for Zinnia, he was the most compassionate and impressive guardian angel that the Universe had sent.
Back in the Cubicle, the lamebren fell into a frenzy of activity. Everyone wanted to speak at once. Gone was the depression and a new optimism had replaced the negativity. Even Berk was smiling, the permanent anxiety on his face replaced by a touch of hope.
‘We have to work fast now,’ Zinnia said to the group. ‘Ivy, Maisie and Camilla, gather all the props together. Crispin and Reed―we’ll need to have a quick rehearsal and time everything perfectly.’
The excitement spiralled through the room, like a physical wave.
‘I don’t think I shall have the strength to go with you,’ Azalea said quietly.
Zinnia turned sharply to the fragile lamebirl. The animated babble suddenly stopped and a thick silence filled the room.
‘What do you mean?’Zinnia asked, alarmed.
‘I can’t, Zinnia. I have no strength left. I shall only be a nuisance and a hindrance to you all. I’ll just stay back after the play and...and...go peacefully to the Dissolution Crypt. It is best for me...’
‘Nonsense!’ Crispin objected fiercely.
‘You don’t understand. I feel so weak, I can barely stand...’
‘You’ve got to be mentally strong Azalea. Remember, it’s now or never! So just pull yourself together. We are going to do it!’ Camilla encouraged.
Azalea sighed but she looked pale and thin. Zinnia observed that her straight, chin-length hair looked lacklustre and the dark circles under her eyes were prominent.
‘We are not going without you,’ she said quietly. ‘Some super power has sent us this second chance, so we cannot fail either him or ourselves. So it’s up to you Azalea―do you want to use this chance and save all your friends or do you wish to condemn them to death? It’s your choice.’
Momentary silence followed this dare. The lamebren paused in their activities and stared at Azalea, awaiting her response. A faint colour brushed her face.
‘Alright. I want all my friends to be safe, of course!’
‘Yay!’ the chorus of approval brought a strained smile to Azalea’s lips.
25
‘The charabanc has arrived. Lamebren, kindly report immediately to the entrance of the Cubicle.’ The announcement which boomed from all corners of the Cubicle was brief.
Zinnia turned to study each one of her friends. They were all dressed for the play, layered with clothes, and articles tucked away i
nto hidden pockets. They would’ve appeared funny and shapeless if it was not for the expressions on their faces—eager yet guarded, controlled yet apprehensive. She experienced a wave of affection for all of them.
‘I want you all to know, that whatever happens tonight, I love you all. If all goes well, we’ll be together. We are going to put in our best effort, right everyone?’ Her gaze moved from face to face.
‘Absolutely right. It’s not a do or die situation for us. It’s do and live situation for us,’ Crispin remarked and the others murmured in agreement.
Zinnia quickly hugged each of the lamebren and kissed the lamebirls on the cheeks. Cheska and Camilla were holding hands, looking very identical with their short cropped hair, crooked teeth and similar clothes. Berk hung around Reed, looking rather plump in his triple garments. Reed towered over them all, lanky and baggy. Ivy had her arm over Maisie’s shoulder and Cylia supported Azalea who was enveloped in a thick blanket. As they all trooped downstairs to the waiting charabanc, Zinnia threw one last look at the Ret Cubicle. Her home for a year now, it was time to say goodbye.
Lorde hung back, sulking and detached. Not a single lamebirl or lamebroy turned around and said goodbye to him. Not a single person had a thought for him.
The fountain in the shape of the pen looked like a frozen piece of blue ice, as they trudged past it. The hood of the charabanc arched open and they all climbed in and took their seats. The glass doors to the entrance of the Cubicle glinted in the moonlight and Zinnia glanced up at the bedroom window through which she had observed the snowflakes daily. Her lips moved in a silent goodbye to the Cubicle. The Snow Hour had been delayed till after the function, so the lawns were a sparkling green. Bosco climbed in and the charabanc took off, leaving the Ret Cubicle in the past.
Revolt of the Lamebren: Book 1 of the Super-Dome Chronicles Page 24
