by Aaron Frale
Before he was able to make it to the throne room lab, a few priests stopped him in the hall. They knelt before him, and one of them said, “Holy One. We have a message for you.”
“Speak,” Dr. Ray said.
“The vault doors have been opened. The High Priest would like you to look at the contents and report back with any useable technology,” the priest said.
Dr. Ray dismissed them and turned toward the corridor leading to the machine. People too weak to walk freely in this universe but gifted with the power to traverse them would give a piece of themselves so he could travel. The people at the bottom were there to support the ones at the top. If the multiverse could realize the ones far down were crushed in the natural order, they would all be better off.
12
Hailey and Ludie fought their way to the top of the castle on the peak of the mountain. The landscape was dreary as the gray stones that constructed the place. The villa itself was built more for aesthetics than functionality for siege warfare. There were parapets designed for hanging bodies over the edge than defense for archers. Large metal placards adorned the walls, depicting signs of death, torture, and most of all, fire.
They battled their way up the rampart toward a tower that was aligned with the sacred Pit of the Flame. A person could be hurled from the highest point of the castle to the lowest. The tower was reserved for betrayers of the cause, so it fit that Ludie had planned his early demise there.
A clan with arms that looked as if they had been boiled and wielding brutal spiked clubs fought them. Hailey parried, dodged, and only went for a death blow when it was clear more would join the fray. She had thinned out their numbers to keep them at bay. They would have escaped into the forest long ago if she wasn’t trying to get recaptured.
However, she couldn’t just walk into the throne room and pretend she had a change of heart. She needed them to believe she had done her best to escape and had been defeated. The truth was if they had really wanted to leave, they would have left, but they discovered there was a barrier to prevent tuning. While the woods below were a much better place to hide, they made it look like they had taken a wrong turn, and now the tide of battle was in the cultists’ favor.
Predictably, once it got out that they were approaching the tower, the cultists swarmed the outside of the castle. A clan who used bow and arrows set up on a nearby wall and flung arrows into the fray. Other groups stormed the walls from every direction. She even saw a group scaling the edges with daggers in their mouths.
Once they got to the top, they put on a performance of making a final stand. Hailey and Ludie both took out as many as they could, but the cultists kept coming. The horde was about to the point of being too overwhelming when Ludie was knocked into the hole at the center of the tower. At the same time, Hailey loosened her grip on her weapons and let one of them knock them out of her hands.
She made a show of struggling while they pinned her down. One of the cultists strayed too close to the hole to check on Ludie. Hailey kicked him, and he tumbled down below. The rest forgot about Ludie and struggled to subdue her. She screamed and kicked as they dragged her down from the tower.
The rest was up to Ludie now.
∆∆∆
Ludie clung to the side of a rocky wall. He had fallen a little further than expected; the blades he had used to stop his fall cut through the stone better than he had hoped. Ludie estimated he was halfway down by the time the friction was enough to halt the fall.
He heard a scream and pressed himself against the stone face. A cultist flew past him into the lava far below. The scream faded as the man went out of earshot.
Ludie pulled out another dagger, stuck it in the rock wall, and ejected two smaller blades from the hilt for stability. He retracted the blades on the other one, wiggled it free, and stuck it as low as he could go. Using the knives as handholds, he lowered himself down the tunnel towards the room where they had witnessed the induction ceremony so long ago.
While he watched the High Priest toss the teens into the flames, Ludie had thought he was making the best choice with the options he could. Even now, while he climbed further and further down, the old Ludie would have stewed over the fact that Hector believed he wasn’t ready to do more on missions when clearly he was capable of doing more. However, now that he was on what could be the last moments of his life, he didn’t feel any of that.
There was no more anger toward Hector, The Tuners, or even Jon. In fact, he didn’t feel anything at all. He was numb inside. Hailey was the only one who mattered to him now, and even after that last call, he saw it. He saw the way she looked at Jon. It was a way that no one had ever looked at Ludie, no matter how much he paid them.
The only reason he didn’t just let go of the daggers was the slim chance that if even for a brief moment, Hailey would look at him in that way. Maybe if he risked his life to bring the cultists to an end, he could have that moment.
In the meantime, he was putting one hand in front of the other until he reached the bottom and could use his rock daggers to traverse the ceiling until he had a clear path to the floor. After that, he knew precisely where the barrier would be that would prevent the Tuners from entering the world.
The plan had a low probability for success, but it was better than hiding out in the woods until the power on their suits died and they died of dehydration pinned to the Earth while gravity pressed on their bodies. At least Ludie had the chance to die standing up.
The old him would have thought it was sufficient to not die at all, but now if he hung out being the cultists lap dog, years of an empty existence didn’t seem like an excellent way to go. He wasn’t here to redeem himself in the eyes of the Tuners. They were nothing to him. Ludie wanted to know if there was a chance, even a small one, that someone could love him.
13
Jon and the rest of the team planned to be ready to go first thing in the morning. Yesterday, when Ludie and Hailey had time to call back, Ludie had sent them a map with every place marked that they needed to hit. Ludie had reckoned that he would have the barrier down about twelve hours after Hailey was recaptured, which had given them all time for one night of restless sleep.
Carrie and a few of the techs needed to stay behind to operate the platform. Whereas Alex and Azerius passed on the assault. Jon understood why Azerius didn’t want to go. The guy was in no rush to go back to the cultists. Alex was a shame. They were a good warrior.
“I got a trunk load of great artifacts, little sister,” Alex had said the day before in the tunnel of 78f from the driver seat of their car. “You sure that you and your boy toy don’t want to come?”
Anya had squeezed Meathook’s hand. “No, unlike you. I have a place to go. You can’t roam around in that car forever.”
“Watch me. Come on; I need someone riding shotgun.” Alex had said, and Azerius climbed into the passenger seat. They sped off, tuning out before the car hit a wall.
Jon would have teased Meathook for getting chummy with Anya, but considering last night might be the only one they had together, he let it alone. DeAndre and Patel had been bunking with each other ever since her return, though they had both changed. What was a playful relationship was all serious now. Even Carrie and Samira seemed to be hitting it off.
That left Jon to think about how he had screwed up with Hailey. He couldn’t take back the hurtful things he had said. While at the time, he still believed that it was the best choice among the options, it didn’t mean he had to shut her down like he had. Especially dragging her sister into it. They had differing opinions, and it should be okay for them to have differences. If they were going to make it in the long-term, they’d have to be partners. Jon had to resist the urge to burn everything down when he disagreed.
Jon walked toward the platform while the sun was peeking over the giant blue wall surrounding the patch of land that was left of Universe One. Even though it was born in the tragedy, the sun rays refracting the block made for a spectacular sunrise. He wished h
is dad could have been here to see it. It was a shame they never got to have much time after Jon knew the whole truth.
He forgave his dad for everything. He understood the lies of his upbringing, especially knowing what the cultists would have done to him if they were successful the day it all started. He would have a scar like the one on Magdalena’s head. Worse, he probably would have risen through the ranks just like he had the Tuners, knowing how easy it was to bring out the worst in him.
He climbed into the window he had used the first day he discovered the building. The only difference was there was a ladder now to make it a little easier. The path to the top floor was clear of debris and swept clean. Jon wasn’t sure who had taken the time to clean it, but was glad they did once they started moving the heavier equipment into the auditorium.
Once he was in the theater, he saw Carrie was already there, making some last-minute preparations. Her boots were sticking out from under the platform.
“You’re up early,” he said to her.
She peeked out and said, “Can’t sleep again?”
Jon shrugged. “Nothing wrong with starting the day early.”
“Only when there is no coffee,” she said. “Can you believe that there is no coffee in this entire place? We are on a university campus!”
“I’d imagine all the coffee shops are encased in blue about a mile or two that way.” Jon pointed and smiled.
“You’re no help. Why not tune yourself to the universe with a grocery store and pick up a couple of bags. I can rig a pot from the fusion reactor.”
“Fusion heated coffee. If Hector were alive to see that…” Jon trailed off.
Carrie got serious all of a sudden. “Jon?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think we’ll survive this?”
“Some of us might.”
“No, I mean humans. I mean, maybe the cultists really do need to wipe us out of the gene pool. Universe One couldn’t even figure it out; how are we supposed to know how to handle it?”
“I don’t know. But I know what Hector would say. Stop talking and get to work.”
Carrie laughed.
“But seriously,” Jon said. “So long as we are willing to learn from our mistakes”—he glanced at the rest of the space encased in the sealing goo—“and the mistakes of others, maybe we’ll do all right.”
“I guess that’s all we can do.”
Meathook burst into the room with Anya at his side. He swung his hammer around and said, “It’s clobberin’ time!”
“That’s from a comic book,” Jon said.
“And I thought I had it,” Meathook said.
The others filtered into the room one by one. They all had their weapons ready to go and climbed to the platform and waited. Ludie was supposed to call when he brought down the barrier. Jon still pulled out the tuning app to check for the cultist universe and didn’t get a signal.
Azerius burst into the room and stood at the base of the platform. He turned to Jon and said, “It would be nice to sleep tonight without one eye opened. Mind if I join you?”
Jon helped him up and said, “It’s good to have you.”
After a while, Ludie appeared on the ID. Jon answered, Ludie said a few words, and he nodded to Ernest. The man called out the stations, and they all checked in. Carrie was the final check-in. Jon and the others pulled out their TF3s and hit the tune button.
The next moment, they appeared in a dim room with stone walls. The gravity overtook them, and they all collapsed to the floor except Magdalena and Meathook. The two searched the place to make sure they were alone and then stood guard at the door. This was the moment Jon dreaded the most. While he could muster the strength to tune himself back, he couldn’t help his friends in need. If Ludie had intended all along to betray them, this would be the moment.
The fact that cultists weren’t waiting for them or charging through the halls was a good sign, but until Ludie came with the goods, there was nothing they could do but wait as they were sprawled out on the floor and vulnerable to attack.
Time ticked down, and they anxiously waited. A couple of times, a few cultists came down the hall, and they held their breath. Meathook and Magdalena were ready to swing at the first person to walk through. The sound of footsteps would continue down the hall, and they all breathed a little easier.
Finally, after it seemed Ludie had betrayed them, the kid appeared at the door with several collars. They were the same kind the slaves wore that counteracted the gravity of the world.
“What is that?” Jon asked. “We can’t wear those!”
“You don’t have a choice. I disabled the security protocols. The clergy won’t be able to use them as shock collars on you,” Ludie said. “If I wanted you dead, there would be easier ways to do it. Now put them on.”
Meathook grabbed one of them and helped Jon into it while Magdalena assisted Patel. After the group was able to move again and Ludie gave them the warnings about avoiding a direct blow to the collar, they all pulled out their maps on their TF3s. Ernest let them know that he had eyes on them. They split into three groups. Jon told Ludie to follow Patel and DeAndre.
Ludie said to Jon, “I’m coming with you.”
“They need you to take out the machine,” Jon said.
Ludie swiped directions from his TF3 to DeAndre’s. “This will show him how,” Ludie said. “In the meantime, you’ll need my help.”
“Why? So you can turn me in yourself? Bargain for your place back in the cult?” Jon was getting mad.
Meathook held him back. “He is trying to help us.”
Ludie remained calm and said, “You’ll need me to get into the ceremony.”
“The what?” Jon asked.
“Hailey didn’t tell you?” Ludie asked. “The High Priest. He intends to marry her. Something about securing his future.”
“But,” Jon said, “she can’t even walk in this gravity. Why would—”
Ludie said, “They have Dr. Ray now. His reverse aging serum. It requires the pituitary gland of a genetic offspring to work. All the High Priest needs is a steady supply of children, and he will rule for eternity.”
“So, what can we do about it?” Jon asked.
“Lovers can contest the claim of another here,” Ludie said even though it pained him to do so. “Since you are Hailey’s former lover, you can challenge him to combat. If you win, she is your prize.”
“She is nobody’s prize.”
“They value strength here above all else.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Jon asked.
“I wasn’t sure that I wanted too. Let’s just go. Bring me in as your retainer. That will get me close enough to the lab. I can destroy it while you are fighting him.”
Azerius added, “I can go with Patel and DeAndre. I’d rather not see the High Priest again if it’s all the same to you.”
Jon nodded. Before Ludie could leave, he put his hand on his former friend’s shoulder.
“Never mind,” Jon said.
Ludie shrugged and walked toward the throne room. The other groups ran off in separate directions. Jon trotted to catch up to Ludie.
14
Dr. Ray typed on a keypad while the body of a cultist lay bleeding out at his feet. His mind was being overwhelmed with math again. He mumbled the numbers while he attempted to crack the code to the doorway in front of him. After restoring the heat and the atmosphere to the station, Dr. Ray had unauthorized all devices so no one could enter, then had brutally killed the ones who were already on board. He had stabbed them many times even though they didn’t fight back because they thought he was a god.
After typing the answers to several complex mathematical constructs that he knew to be Dr. Ben’s favorite, the door failed to open again. In the vault shelves around him, there were many different artifacts this organization called the Tuners had collected over the years. Many of them were field experiments and prototypes built by scientists like himself from U-1. They were of n
o consequence. The real prize inside the trove was another door with an electronic lock.
Dr. Ray knew what was inside; he only had to figure out the key. Brute forcing his way in would prove just as fruitless as disabling the Universe One ban on weapons. The security of his world was next to impossible to disable without a quantum super stack the size of the Pacific Ocean. However, Dr. Ray knew that it was Dr. Ben who had created the code.
He wasn’t surprised that the Tuners couldn’t get inside. From the sound of it, they were kids who had deluded themselves. They thought they were protecting the multiverse. However, Dr. Ray had gained wisdom from his countless years of existence. He knew there was one way to save the universe, and the answer was beyond the door.
He typed in another solution to a theorem they used to debate in college when Dr. Ray and Dr. Ben were two friends who enjoyed complex mathematics together. This was long before his friend had discovered environmental flaws in the tuning process, and Dr. Ray had found that appealing to people’s vanity outsold products that would save peoples’ lives.
That’s when an idea had struck him. The passcode to get in the doorway wasn’t any obscure academic subject. It was the person who mattered most to him. Dr. Ray entered his own birthdate.
The door opened.
Inside was an inert sphere of material that was as dense as a neutron star. The three rings to keep it from collapsing into a black hole and taking the station with it were still in operation after all these years. A skeleton was slumped over the control panel. A homemade firearm was still in the mouth of the deceased, and the back of the skull was blown out into a million pieces.
This was how the great Dr. Ben had died.
Dr. Ray pushed the bones aside, and they toppled to the floor. There was no time to mourn his friend. He fired up the machine, and the sphere glowed blue. It became brighter as he worked.
