by Tanya Ross
“My belly needs food,” Graham said, laughing loudly. The others started chanting, “My belly needs food. My belly needs food.”
Xander held up his hands and waited for them to calm down. He grinned and went on. “The body believed the belly was lazy.”
Exaggerated Oh’s and Ooo’s rippled across the group.
“They decided to hold a meeting to discuss how unfair this was.”
“Yeah! A meeting!” Gabriel, the white-haired REM said, raising his fist in the air.
“After a very long meeting, the members of the body voted to go on strike until the belly agreed to take its proper share of the work.”
The group murmured to each other. Xander listened to them, trying to keep a straight face. They all thought the strike was a good idea.
“The body parts didn’t do anything for several days. The legs stopped walking, the hands stopped moving, and the teeth stopped chewing.”
“Good strike, yeah?” Jasper said.
“With the starving of the belly, the legs became more and more tired, the hands could hardly move anymore, and the mouth became parched and dry. Eventually the entire body collapsed and died.”
There was dead silence in the group. Jasper broke the spell, “So…the belly was the most important?”
“No, Jaz. The whole body had to work together. Just like us. We’re a team. Every one of you is necessary.”
“You kidding? We don’t feel like no team,” a red-haired freckle-faced twenty-something called out.
Xander looked at the crowd, making eye contact as his gaze fanned across the group. “That’s what I’m here for. If you hang with me, your life will change. I have big plans, and I don’t want to leave any of you behind. This place…” he panned the air with an outstretched hand, “is no place to live. But if we team up, we can do great things. Not just survive better.” He paused. “Change the flippin’ world.”
The audience murmured among themselves. He heard remarks about never wanting to belong to a community again after being in Tranquility. But he also heard a number of REMs talking to each other who seemed excited about what he’d said. They were giving each other fist-bumps in solidarity. The story and the message, along with his lively performance and persuasion, would easily create a minor-league fan club.
But the performances were only the first phase of his recruitment efforts.
Most of the REMs were bored with their daily lives, so soon after the meeting Xander thought up group activities to energize the camp and train the REMs to fit the plans he dreamed about. Xander’s desire for lively conversation and games was a magnetic draw.
“Hey, Jasper,” Xander called up through the swiss cheese ceiling. “Want to play a game?”
“What kinda game?”
“A game I made up. But you could probably beat me…”
“Hmm…before I come down there, I gotta know more of this game.”
Reluctant as always, Xander thought. “It’s called ‘Rock Masters.’ Let’s see if you’re a Master.”
Xander heard a shuffling and rustling from above and then Jasper appeared, jumping down from a rafter with ease.
“C’mon. We can use the quad outside for our game court.” Xander gestured with this head toward the front “door.” A mortared two-foot wall resembling a square outside the building was his vision of the ideal courtyard.
Like a game-show host, Xander grabbed a stick and spoke into it. “Welcome to Rock Masters! You see these rocks and pebbles? Some are pea-sized, others are small boulders. Each has a point value. We’re gonna challenge each other. Starting with the gravel and building up to the 20 pounders, each of us tries to get the rock into the target.” Xander pointed to a rusty, open half-barrel. “Whoever has the most points gets to invite someone else into the game for the next day’s challenge.” Xander put down the stick, now trading his spokesperson persona to that of a competitor.
“Sounds pretty jake. I’ll take ya on.”
Jasper was no match for Xander. After four straight days of winning, and not selecting anyone other than Jasper to play, he finally chose a new player from a growing group of gawking onlookers. Each time he made certain he welcomed and acknowledged them for an attractive characteristic—their talent, or their friends, or even their jokes. Xander bestowed them with personalized nicknames to the amusement of the crowd.
The number of competitors grew and so did the audience. At first, players played for sport only. But as soon as he had a group of six, Xander opened it up to gambling wagers. He was the real Rock Master, of course. He won items and tokens from others, but since these were in short supply, Xander began asking for services. As additional players came into the game, the more they fell under the spell of the gambler’s lure, a daily give and take, objects won and lost. Before long, Rock Masters was an obsession among the REMs. They were soon eating out of Xander’s hand, depending on him to set up tournaments.
Unification would be essential, he knew. They had to feel a part of something bigger and special where they were all bonded, a feat that would be new to this motley group.
After a couple of weeks, Xander had solidified his team. He knew who he could trust. There were about a dozen REMs who always followed him around like he was the Pied Piper. But he had his favorites, his core companions. He hung out, hunted, and played most of his Rock Masters games with them. During those days, Xander had been mulling an idea in his head until it became an obsession. He had to see it through.
“Jasper, Bixby, and Graham…we’re gonna take a walk today.” The three of them had just finished up collecting the rocks, strewn about, from the Rock Masters court.
“A walk? What for?” Graham said. “Is it gonna be far? I’m too tired.”
“Where we goin’? There ain’t nothin’ to see around here, Xander,” Bixby drawled.
“We’re not sight-seeing, guys. We’re gonna go on a quest. I saw a theater about three miles out the last time I went hunting. We’re headed there.”
“I dunno, Xander. Not sure I want to venture too far from camp. It’s not safe. Creatures and all. And what good is an old theater, Xander? There ain’t no movies playin’…” Jasper said.
“Well, you don’t always know what you need until you see why you need it,” Xander answered. “You all gonna be a bunch of wimps?” The three guys looked at each other, fear flooding their faces. “I’m headin’ out. You coming?” Xander had a hard time not cracking a smile. He knew they’d be unable to resist.
Graham spoke up after a long silence. “Ready if you are.” Fist bumps erupted all around.
“Bring your bags of tools and weapons.”
The band of REMs had become Xander’s good friends. He couldn’t remember a time in Tranquility when he had people around him whom he enjoyed so much. Each guy was a little offbeat. They were colorful individuals; he admired their out-of-the-box thinking. Graham, especially, was his favorite. No one in Tranquility had siblings. He had never had a brother. Graham was the closest thing to that. Pretty much, the two were inseparable.
Three hours out into the wilderness, Xander shouted. “There! The theater!” Following his lead, the men ran forward to an abandoned, broken-down building, their weariness and concerns forgotten in the final trek to discover what Xander’s mission was.
Knowing how hazardous a dilapidated building could be, the tribe entered warily. As they walked past a wall, halfway torn off the top, a shift in the cracked cement below their feet set them on edge. Xander saw Graham shiver and then shake it off.
“Be careful. Watch for anything that looks fragile,” Xander said.
It was the same as most buildings Outside; the theater had no door and only some pieces of what could have been a roof, making the ceiling a mosaic of sky and rough plaster. The elements had ruined the theater seats, leaving the cushions torn or nonexistent, their audiences long-gone ghosts.
An enormous screen, its surface shredded and peeling, stared back at them blankly. Xander’s eyes, however, were
riveted on the curtains on both sides of the empty screen, dozens of yards of red velvet textile. He approached the plush velour with something like awe. He touched it, examining the material with complete reverence. “Looks like this bottom part has some mold…”
“Is that what we came for, Xan? And it’s ruined?” Graham ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.
Xander cuffed Graham affectionately on the cheek. “I’ve got this, Graham Cracker. The middle swath up to the top’s in great shape. The portico hanging over it must’ve protected it.” He took a deep breath, his eyes sparkling. “My fellow REMs get out your knives. We’re takin’ these curtains back to camp.”
“What? Why?” Jasper looked at Xander with his mouth agape.
“We’re gonna make clothes with it, Jasper. All red, elegant! Classy. Desirable. We’ve got a fraternal order of REMs to represent. We’re stronger together, and we’re gonna celebrate it. Get your knives. Start cutting that drapery down!”
Journal Entry #5587
Bringing new members into the Elite is a natural process. It’s a pleasure bringing in new Elite. It’s quite a feat to be the happiest citizens in the city. Once Elite, the decisions they make must continue to make them happy. So, I’m always impressed with their capacity to love and care for others.
Then they are my counsel—those I trust to help me make decisions. But having too many Elite makes me nervous. Right now, there are only fifty Elite. And this is perfect. Power should remain in the hands of a carefully controlled group. I want only those who see things the way I do.
The biggest threat to me are the Augur Prize winners. They are the perfect citizens. Each of them chosen because of their points and their dedication to their Status’s chosen value, they put these values above all. If a value, for instance, is ‘Integrity,’ they will always act in that manner, when sometimes that value must be sacrificed for the Greater Good. I can’t have people that strong as advisors. Who knows what ideas they might have? They could betray me, wanting to become Magistrate themselves. Some, I’m sure, have planned and schemed to enter the Elite for the sole purpose of bringing me down. I’ve had to carefully control these threats. To keep our city pure, this is a job that needs to be done.
I’ve been an excellent Magistrate, unlike any other. Luckily for the citizens, I hold my position until I die. I care deeply about the people here, and they know I have their best interests at heart. I must protect myself at all costs.
--Serpio Magnus, Magistrate
22
Ember’s Inquisition
Ember was frantic at the loss of the ring. She knew she had taken it with her. Now it was gone. She hated to suspect Will, but his aura appeared dark to her, and his emotions were running all over the place. She could trust him no more; it would all be up to her. She must find the ring at all costs and discover the truth about her mother.
She measured her emotions on her Alt, only to see another drop in points. She’d better find something to get her back in touch with her happiness quotient.
“Alt, turn on the music playlist,” she said. A second later her favorite artist crooned a song entitled, “New Birth.” The music helped put her mind into a meditative state. She sank down into the plush purple recliner, patting its familiar armrests. Might as well enjoy it. In two short days, she would be leaving the apartment.
She suddenly sensed a presence nearby. A wave of distrust and haughtiness ebbed into her spirit. “Visitor at the door, Ember,” the house camera chimed, its soothing voice interrupting the singer.
Ember imagined it was maybe Will. Perhaps he had found the ring after all! Or maybe he came to apologize for taking her ring. If it was Will, he wasn’t feeling warm toward her, so it could be him. The monitor confirmed her feelings. It wasn’t Will, but a Sciolist! Fear pierced her as if she had been cut. Why would a Sciolist be here? Ember’s lip trembled. Her heart beat a rapid tempo. Happiness is a choice that requires effort.
Ember opened the door and encountered a straight-faced man in red. His cloak flowed around him.
“Ember Vinata. I’m to take you to City Hall to speak directly with the Magistrate. Punishment or Counseling, if necessary, will be determined after questioning. We leave immediately.”
No one to call—no one to call. The words went around and round in her head as she sat in the waiting room at City Hall. If only she had her mom. She would know what to do. The loss hit her again, hard, an ache in her chest.
She wasn’t waiting long, however; a different Sciolist—somber and red-robed like the other — escorted her into the inner chamber soon after where the Magistrate, behind a giant desk, arose from an opening in the floor. If she wasn’t already intimidated, this did it. Her empathic radar sensed a weird combination of curiosity and impatience rising from the Magistrate’s mental state.
The Magistrate raised his arm, palm out, index finger up. Even here, the gesture of acceptance reigned. Ember returned the salute.
“Step forward and be held responsible. You, Ember Vinata, are being arrested on one major count of disobedience. You have been in possession of a ring belonging to deceased citizen, Talesa Vinata. This ring, an Augur Prize of great value, has been returned by a Plauditor.”
Ember gasped.
The Magistrate held up her mother’s ring. Like a miniature star, it sparkled under the lights. “What have you to say?” The Magistrate’s face wore a painted-on smile. Ember could read his emotions and see his aura. The blue cloud shimmered. He was exasperated, impatient.
Ember looked down at her shoes, knowing that whatever she said was never going to matter. No excuse would get her off the hook. She had deliberately kept the ring and broken the law. One thing was for sure, she was right not to trust Will! He had betrayed her. Taking the ring and then lying about it! Her feelings registered on her Alt, and the Magistrate would easily know she was not in control, much less happy.
Nonetheless, she thought, it was time to stand on her own two feet and take charge. She had to get beyond her self-doubts and shyness, grab onto what courage she had, and represent herself as an empowered female.
“You do not deny the charge, then?” The Magistrate’s voice was a cat’s purr; he, of course, would never cause a citizen to become alarmed, even one who was under the microscope.
“I was on my way to City Hall to turn in the ring…which I found in an odd place…when it disappeared. I don’t know how it became lost,” Ember fibbed.
“But you did have it for an extensive time. You didn’t turn it in with the rest of Telesa Vinata’s things. Do you know something about this ring you’re not telling me?”
“Only that I wanted to keep it because it was my mother’s. She earned it, and I’m sure she would want me to have it.”
“What Ms. Vinata wanted is irrelevant. It is against the law to keep such an item. Did you wear this ring?”
“No. It didn’t fit my finger. I carried it, to keep it safe.”
“Safe from whom?”
Ember hesitated. Then an idea instantly formed in her mind, and it was the most logical answer of all. “Well, I thought someone was after it. The living space I shared with my mom was ransacked. I didn’t think much about it at the time, but once I found the ring, I decided it needed protection from whoever might be looking for it.”
“But you had no proof of this, other than your conjecture.”
Ember watched the aura around the Magistrate wane and flare at intervals. “No, but the Plauditors who helped me that day would probably agree. Austel Fidelis and Will Verus have records of the break in. They’ll tell you how strange it was.” Ember began to feel more poised. Her story was all making sense. She checked her Alt to find that it was showing point growth for confidence.
The Magistrate blinked his hooded eyes several times. His eyelids opened and closed so slowly they seemed weighted. “That… sounds like a plausible reason. I’ll see if Will and Austel can back that up, and I’ll pull the records. Seems rather a strong coincidence… Austel
Fidelis was the one who brought us the ring.”
Ember felt faint. “What? Austel brought you the ring?”
“Why, yes. He said you were in possession of it when you came to the Plauditorium. He wanted to make sure it got to City Hall where it belongs. But no matter. I still have questions about your possession of the ring. Did you have any…incidents...with the ring? Anything strange that you observed about it?
“I don’t think so…”
“These rings are special. They become attached to their owners emotionally, like a fingerprint. Someone other than the recipient who’s wearing the ring will then have their own Alt assessments register incorrectly on the Continuum. We certainly don’t want that for our citizens, especially you, Ember, my dear. Of course, that’s the main reason we collect the rings. We want you to have a most joyous life, one that you yourself earn with true points.” The Magistrate’s voice was sonorous; its vocal cadences could put a baby to sleep.
The Magistrate’s comforting words inexplicably relaxed her. Yet she sensed she still needed to be on her guard. Something seemed out of place…something she couldn’t put her finger on. But…Will. She should have trusted Will. He had been in her corner after all.
Right now, though, it was best to take the high road. What would appease the Magistrate? She had to acknowledge his claims, at least. “I apologize. I see now that I’ve made a mistake. I should have realized that there was a reason City Hall would want the ring returned.”
“I am so happy to hear that you understand, Ember. Your peace of mind is critical here.”
“Of course.”
“Just one more thing, Ember. There will be no punishment or counseling at this time, although we are being lenient with you. The Elders wanted Removal, to send you to The Outside for this rebellion, or at the very least, downgrade your Status to a Level One. However, I understand that you also suffered an unusual physical illness at the Plauditorium. Your health is also of paramount concern to us. You’ll be reporting to the Solace Institute in two days for assessment and observation. A Sciolist will arrive to escort you at 9 a.m. Be ready.”
