The Individuality Gene

by G Sauvé

  “We have to dig our way out,” I announce.

  “Is it safe?”

  “I don’t know, but we don’t have a choice.”

  Kara nods. I can’t see her, but I sense her body shift ever so slightly as her head bounces up and down.

  I’m about to feel around in an attempt to better familiarize myself with my surroundings when a thought occurs to me. We can’t use the ring to open a portal, but maybe it can illuminate our surroundings. Removing my gloves, I fumble with the ring until I locate the small bump that protrudes from it. Holding my breath, I press it.

  A beam of red light erupts from the ring. It condenses, forming a glowing arrow that hovers above my hand. It twists and turns for a moment, then grows still. The fact that it remains red tells me Avalon isn’t in this time, but that’s of no concern to me.

  I focus on Kara’s face. The sight of her delicate features draws a smile to my lips. I’m tempted to kiss her, but I resist the urge. Not only would it upset her, but it would be a waste of precious time.

  I scan my surroundings. The orifice in which we sit is small. Too small.

  There’s no way we can survive down here for more than a few hours. The sooner we get to work, the better.

  “Hold this,” I say, removing my ring and handing it to Kara. I then put my gloves back on and get to work.

  The snow is hard but malleable, and digging through it is surprisingly easy. At first, I dig straight up, but it soon becomes obvious such an approach is doomed to fail. Not only does it weaken the roof of our miniature cavern, but it makes scaling the tunnel impossible. Starting over, I dig at a forty-five-degree angle. This technique ensures we will reach the surface quickly while guaranteeing our safety. If the tunnel collapses, we can retreat down the channel before we’re crushed. The endeavour is still fraught with peril, but it’s the safest approach I can think of.

  I dig for hours. At least that’s what it feels like. My arms are now so sore I can barely lift them. My fingers throb, so numb I can’t feel them. My head pounds from the lack of oxygen, and the red glow of the holo tracker makes my vision swim. But I keep digging. And digging. And digging.

  “It’s my turn,” says Kara. We’ve been taking turns ever since the excavation began, but as time goes on, my shifts grow shorter, and hers grow longer. I feel guilty for letting her do most of the work, but my exhaustion grows more pronounced with each inhalation. The carbon dioxide levels have grown so pronounced the mere act of breathing is painful. Strangely, Kara seems unaffected by the lack of oxygen. She digs with just as much strength as she did in the beginning. I have no idea how it’s possible, but I’m grateful for it.

  I watch my friend dig for a while, doing my best to keep the holographic arrow from escaping my tired fingers, but the more I try, the harder it gets. After a while, the intensity of the glow starts dimming. At first, I fear the power source is failing, but it soon becomes apparent that isn’t the case. The hologram isn’t weakening.

  I am.

  Darkness creeps into my vision, causing the entire world to grow dim. It darkens with each passing second. Soon, I’m unable to see. I try to speak, but my voice is gone. My breathing is shallow, ragged. I’m so weak I can’t even move. A powerful buzzing fills my ears, drowning out all noises. My entire body is numb, yet I can still sense someone holding my hand.

  It’s Kara.

  At least I won’t die alone, I think. That’s my last thought before the lack of oxygen forces me into unconsciousness. I slip into a deep sleep, never to wake again.

  Memory 54

  M y eyes flutter open and I see a bright light.

  “Am I dead?” I croak. My throat is so sore the mere act of speaking is painful.

  Laughter fills the air.

  “No,” says a familiar voice. “You’re not dead.”

  It’s Kara.

  Her face appears before me, blotting out the sun. She’s smiling.

  “How do you feel?” she asks.

  “Like crap. What happened?”

  “You passed out. I tried waking you, but you were barely breathing, so I kept digging. It took a while, but I finally reached the surface.”

  “How did you get me out?”

  “I dragged you. It wasn’t easy, but I couldn’t abandon you.”

  I stare at her for a moment. The urge to kiss her is stronger than ever, but I manage to resist it.

  “Thank you,” I say. I’m tempted to ask how she managed to survive when the lack of oxygen caused me to pass out, but I’ve learned not to ask such questions. Kara is unlike anyone I have ever met, and that’s fine by me.

  I sit and look around. The mountainside was reconfigured by the avalanche. A thick blanket of snow now lies where the animal crossing once stood. Fully exposed, the frozen flanks of the twin peaks stand bare. The snow that once covered them now lies beneath us, filling the small valley that once stood there.

  “Wow!” I gasp. “I can’t believe we survived.”

  “We were fortunate,” says Kara. “We should get going before our luck runs out. Are you able to stand?”

  I nod. My legs are weak, and my head is sore, but the prospect of remaining here longer than necessary motivates me to reclaim control of my body.

  I stand and sway in the gentle breeze. Completing the remainder of the journey won’t be easy, but I refuse to give up.

  “Let’s go,” I say. I take a tentative step, half expecting the snow to give out beneath me, but it has been packed by the avalanche and walking across it is easy. I’m about to take another step when Kara stops me.

  “You’re forgetting something,” she says.

  “I am?”

  She nods and opens her gloved hand. Nestled in her palm is my mother’s time travel ring. In the confusion, I forgot all about it.

  “Thanks,” I say. I take the ring and, removing my glove, slip it onto my finger. Moments later, we’re on our way.

  The climb takes nearly an hour, but we eventually reach the crest of the hill. By then, the sun is setting. Vibrant shades of yellow, orange, and red illuminate the sky, bathing the valley that stretches before us in an eerie, yet beautiful glow.

  I reach out and take Kara’s hand. I expect her to pull away, but she doesn’t. We stand side by side, watching the sun set. It’s such a beautiful sight I forget about our mission. It’s not until the shinning orb vanishes behind the horizon that I’m reminded of it.

  I focus on the valley. It’s a vast expanse of snow and ice. Glacier-like protrusions are scattered throughout. Most are small, but a massive one stands at the very centre of the gorge. According to Hermit, this is where we will find the humans. I’m not sure how he knows this, and I honestly don’t care. As long as we convince them to help their enslaved brethren, nothing else matters.

  We slide down the hill that stands before us. After a short walk through a thick blanket of powdery snow, we reach the first of the many patches of ice that stand between us and our destination. We keep going until we reach the first of the many icy bulges that protrude from the ice. From afar, they looked like mere glaciers, but from up close, they are far different. Made entirely of ice, they resemble giant flowers. Some are mere buds, their icy petals forever shut. Others are half-open, suspended midway between bud and bloom. A few have flourished, their massive petals dipping low before curving upward at the tip. At their center stand dozens of glistening stamens, gathered around a glistening pistil. It’s such a beautiful sight I can’t help gawking.

  We advance through this strange ice garden for a while before the light of the dying sun grows so faint we’re progressing in near total darkness. I’m about to suggest we take a break and reassess the situation when something unexpected happens.

  Lights emerge from the darkness. Yellow and bright, the glowing orbs dance through the air. Each one performs a strange little dance before growing still. It happens over and over again until hundreds of glowing orbs have appeared. It’s not until their vast numbers light up the night that I finall
y understand what I’m seeing.

  Ros’tal crystals. They stand atop wooden staffs, each one jutting from the ice mountain I noticed earlier. At the time I thought it was a natural peak, but now that I see it in all its glory, I recognize it for what it truly is.

  A castle. Made entirely of ice, the vast structure appears to have been chiselled by a master sculptor. Lavishly carved balconies of varying shapes and sizes protrude from the shining citadel. Windows and doorways of equal beauty are sprinkled throughout. Nonetheless, every last detail remains camouflaged in an aura of authenticity. From afar, the palace blends in with its icy surroundings. Only from up close can you tell the structure is man-made.

  I stare at the castle for a long time before realizing what its presence implies.

  We made it. We reached the human colony.

  No sooner has the thought occurred to me than a dozen armed creatures emerge from the darkness. Bearing torches and spears, they converge toward us.

  We’re surrounded.

  Memory 55

  I stare at the spearheads hovering before me for a moment, then focus on the odd creatures brandishing them. Reminiscent of gorillas, they are covered in a thick layer of puffy white fur. Long and shaggy, it reminds me of Snowball’s pelt. Devoid of hair, their hands and feet are the colour of leather. But freakiest of all are their faces. Humanoid in appearance, they are a mess of different-coloured swirls and shapes. Their glistening eyes are massive and devoid of both irises and pupils.

  “Who are you?” demands one of the creatures. Its voice is gruff, but it’s definitely human. I focus on it and study it with a new eye. The puffy fur lacks the lustre of life. The hands and feet aren’t hairless at all. They’re gloves and boots, crafted from the hide of some deceased animal. As for the coloured markings that adorn the being’s face, it’s nothing more than paint. The final detail I take into account are the eyes. In reality, they’re not eyes at all, but rather goggles of some sort, no doubt designed to keep the wearer’s vision from getting affected by the cold.

  These creatures aren’t creatures at all. They’re humans.

  “We mean you no harm,” I say. “We’re friends.”

  “We have no friends,” snaps the same man. He steps forward and presses the tip of his spear to my neck.

  “Please,” I say. “We have travelled far to speak with your leader.”

  The man hesitates. I can’t tell if that’s a good or a bad thing, but I choose to believe it’s the former.

  We remain at a stalemate for nearly a full minute before one of the other humans lowers their spear and steps forward. I can tell by the slender nature of her frame and the fact that she towers high above us that she’s a woman.

  “That’s enough,” she says. “Humans aren’t the enemy. The sentinels are.”

  The man hesitates then retreats.

  “Lower your weapons,” commands the woman.

  The spears are withdrawn, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Thank you,” says Kara.

  “You’re welcome,” says the woman. “My name is Frost.”

  I can’t help being amused. Frost seems like a misnomer for a woman who’s both kind and warm. Without her, we would be dead.

  “I’m Kara,” says my friend. “And this is my companion, Will.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

  “The pleasure is ours.”

  Now that the formalities are out of the way, we can get down to business.

  “We need your help,” I say. “Can we speak with your leader?”

  Frost smiles. At least I think she does. It’s hard to tell with all that face paint.

  “Follow me.”

  She leads us to the ice palace. The closer we get, the more beautiful it becomes. Every centimetre has been carefully carved. Depictions of all shapes and sizes blend together in a breathtaking mosaic of artistic splendour. Most portray breathtaking landscapes of unparalleled beauty. I see trees and plants so intricately sculpted they look real. Smiling people are scattered throughout the sceneries. Each carving is more beautiful than the last, and I find myself slowing down to keep from missing anything.

  “Don’t waste any time on them,” says Frost. “The true beauty lies within.”

  She leads us to a massive breach in the wall. From afar it looks like a natural fissure, but from up close, it takes on the properties of a massive gate. Half a dozen armed guards stand by the entrance. They stare at Kara and me in awe but treat Frost with the utmost respect. They bow their heads and avoid looking her in the eye. I don’t know who she is, but I can tell she’s a respected member of the community.

  Frost leads us into the fissure. The polished walls reflect our every move as we travel deeper into the palace. Every now and then the angle of the walls match up, and our reflections are replicated hundreds of times. While beautiful, the constantly changing nature of the reflections wreaks havoc with my balance, and I end up bumping into Frost.

  “Sorry,” I mutter.

  She chuckles. “Don’t look at them directly. It’s disarming.”

  I nod, and we continue along the narrow passage. We eventually reach an intersection, but Frost leads us past. As we progress, the passage grows in both height and width. Soon, it opens into a vast cavern the likes of which I have never seen.

  “Welcome to the Colony,” says Frost, gesturing to our surroundings.

  I ignore her comment and focus on the frozen world that stretches before us. The floor, a never-ending expanse of polished ice, stretches as far as the eye can see. The walls, also made entirely of ice, curve inward and converge, forming a vast dome that dips down at its very center. Hanging from this massive stalactite is a huge chandelier. Hundreds of ‘tals have been attached to it, their combined luminescence illuminating the entire cavern.

  I stare at it for a while before looking away. Focusing on the walls once more, I notice they have been divided into various levels. Vast balconies that stretch the entire perimeter of the cavern make up each level’s border. Beyond them are doors and windows of varying shapes and sizes. The only thing they have in common is the yellow glow that emanates from them.

  I continue my study of the cavern, only to discover it’s deserted.

  “Where is everyone?” I ask.

  “They’re eating,” explains Frost. “It’s dinnertime.”

  The mention of food reminds me I haven’t eaten in nearly a full day, but we have more pressing matters to attend to. We must convince the leaders of the free humans to help us rescue their enslaved brothers and sisters. But first, we must familiarize ourselves with our surroundings.

  Far beneath the chandelier stands a forest unlike any I have seen before. The trees are massive and made entirely of ice. Glowing softly, they sway in an inexistent breeze, their crystalline leaves jangling gently. The sight of them reminds me of the glowing forest deep beneath the human housing facility.

  “Are those…” I ask, but my voice trails off.

  “They are what remains of those who have passed from this world,” explains Frost.

  That’s odd. I wonder why these humans turn into trees of ice and light when their enslaved brethren turn to bark and leaves. Perhaps their distinct histories have caused them to evolve differently, becoming two entirely different species. Perhaps the transformation depends on the nature of their surroundings. Perhaps this is what happens when humans become true individuals. In the end, it matters little.

  “We must speak with your leader,” I say. “Can you help us?”

  Frost nods.

  “Do you see that stalactite?” she asks, pointing at the giant icicle from which the chandelier hangs.

  Kara and I nod.

  “That’s where we’re going.”

  I don’t understand what she means until I notice the windows that have been carved into the stalactite. A soft yellow glow emanates from them, indicating the dwelling that stands within is occupied.

  I gulp. Just thinking of being so high terrifies me.
I’m debating whether or not to mention my acrophobia when Frost says something so unexpected I forget all about it.

  “Give me your clothes.”

  Kara and I exchange puzzled glances.

  “Why?”

  Frost chuckles.

  “We’re about to climb a very long set of stairs. Unless you want to reach the top drenched in sweat, I suggest you remove a layer or two.”

  She’s right. The air is warm, and I’m already starting to perspire. Kara and I remove our winter clothing but conserve our boots as we have no shoes with which to replace them. Frost also sheds a layer, revealing the utilitarian garment that lies beneath her fur coat. Her hair is also revealed, and the sight of it causes me to smile. The long, thick strands are the colour of snow, and their frothy appearance reminds me of frost. Her once peculiar-sounding name now makes perfect sense.

  Once we’re ready, Frost has us retrace our steps to the intersection we encountered earlier. Turning right, she guides us along a narrow passageway until we reach a staircase. Unbothered by the icy nature of the steps, she begins the long climb to the summit. Kara and I follow with slightly more reticence. At first, I’m worried I’m going to slip and fall, but a quick look at the steps reveals small stones have been mixed in with the ice, allowing us to progress without fear of losing our footing. It appears as though the inhabitants of this ice structure have thought of everything.

  We climb for what feels like an eternity. Every so often, we encounter an opening that leads to one of the structure’s many levels, but Frost strides past them without looking. We keep climbing. And climbing. And climbing.

  “Why isn’t the ice melting,” asks Kara after a while. Unlike me, she doesn’t appear to be out of breath.

  “What do you mean?” asks Frost, equally unaffected by the climb.

  “The air is warm. Shouldn’t the ice be melting?”

  “This is no ordinary ice. It’s warm ice. It doesn’t melt.”

  Intrigued, I reach out and press my hand to the wall. I expect to feel the familiar chill of frozen water, but the surface is warm.