Dystopyum (The D-ot Hexalogy Book 1) (16 page)

“Rebecca,” he said, “I can’t do that — why would you think — it’s
too —” He paused, “It’s so different. You’re acting different, and it’s
weird.”

He doesn’t get it,
Rebecca thought.
What an idiot.
Suddenly Rebecca
felt angry.
“You’re the one that’s weird!” she retorted, and feeling awkward, she
departed for her home. On the way home, she wondered if he was gandy.
The NOV had no place for such. As a minority, they were targeted and
removed from society. Homosexuals were not given DeathBT, but were
summarily executed. Female gandies hid more easily, and were somewhat
tolerated, if not used, by the NOV brass. They could sometimes obtain
waivers for use in the temples and the torture rooms. Applying for the
waivers was obviously risky. This was, after all, the Nation of Vengeance.
Jan stood there, watching Rebecca walk away. Even though they were
going the same direction, he let her get ahead of him. He was confused.
I
love Rebecca, but I don’t feel that way about her. Why don’t I feel the
same with her as the other girls? Why? I don’t know why, but it would be
a mistake. It would change everything. I would lose her — she would
become someone else.
He heard the Guide chime in, calmingly blending in with his mind’s
ear,
“What you would lose would be the relationship you now have. It
would become conformed to something more common in this world

though all relationships have their unique harmonics. It could become
binding to the point of lifetime acceptance and devotion, or eventual
rejection of the obligated relationship. The outcome cannot be but be one
or the other, and either one can result in love or hate. This can be
extremely hard, and actually not necessary, considering love is there
already. The freedom to choose is there now, but changes dramatically if
you have offspring. New sets of lovingly obligated relationships form.”
Jan knew what he said was true.
After a while, Jan continued home. It was less than three blocks down
the road from the school bus stop. He passed by some kids picking on a
smaller kid across the street, but he just let it go. One confrontational
involvement was enough for one day.
When Jan made it through his front door, and into the kitchen, it was
like entering a different world. His mother was home early, and was
baking some fresh yama bread. She occasionally did this, and Jan loved
the smell of it. There was some music playing, and Martha greeted him
with a smile and a hug. It was as if the harsh world outside the house was
left behind, and something closer to heaven waited inside. He felt warm
and good.
“I’m going to get my homework done fast today. I want to study your
writings tonight,” Jan said to Martha, as he took a seat in the kitchen. “I
think I know who some of the LERN members are in school. I know two
for sure, because of our meetings. I want to ask for copies of what they
may have.”
Martha had begun to introduce Jan into the LERN meetings she attended. She was not keen on him initiating such contacts on his own,
considering the consequences. “I don’t want you talking to anyone yet,
Jan. You know it’s too dangerous,” she warned.
Martha had not yet told Jan of the secret signal they would give each
other. It was simply the scratching of the left thumb, followed by the
scratching of the right thumb. The code would change every so often
because the NOV would eventually discover it. The NOV in turn would
use the signal to trap as many as they could before it was exposed that
they had the code.
Jan opened the refrigerator and retrieved some gendra cheese. With
that and a slice of bread, he pulled his books out onto the kitchen table,
and proceeded to study for an impending math test. By the time dinner
was ready, he had gone through his homework.
He and Martha had an enjoyable dinner, and Jan dominated the conversation by obsessing on retrieving more writings from Martha’s friends.
She was happy that Jan had such a strong interest in LERN. She deeply
felt that he would be able to contribute to the cause.
After dinner, Jan was ready to do what he really wanted to do — go
over the writings again. Griswolt would be out late tonight, so Jan could
study them uninterrupted in his parent’s bedroom. Martha refused to let
him take them out of her room, so he had started copying them by hand.
Jan had a hiding place of his own, behind his bed.
At school the next day, Jan’s last class was third level mathematics.
The test was tough, but he got through it all right. He had begun to notice
lately that the teacher, Ziba, had been studying him. It made him feel
uncomfortable when he saw the intensity of her eyes. Jan was accustomed
to people staring at his crest, but this was different.
It seems as if she likes
me,
he thought to himself.
So why does she stare?
After class ended, he
went to meet up with Buz before they headed to the buses.
Since Buz was coming out of chemistry class, they left by way of the
smaller, back stairway. Buz said, “I’m meeting up with Huto tonight after
dinner. You want to come over?”
Jan had other plans, and replied, “Let me see what’s up when I get
home, I’ve got a ton of homework.” Huto was Buz’s old friend, anyway.
As they rounded the fourth floor turn going up the steps, they heard the
floor door open behind them, with a few students coming out.
“Well, look what the emui dragged in,” exclaimed Barab with sinister
delight. “Grab them!” Sak and two others dashed after Jan and Buz, who
had already begun running up the stairs. Sak got there first, grabbing Jan,
and pulling him down by the ankles. Buz was still running up the stairs.
Barab didn’t care about Buz for the moment. He wanted Jan. The
others were holding Jan down, while he struggled to get free. Barab
walked up the stairs with his distinctive limp.
Buz stopped running about twelve steps up, and did not know what to
do. They were not after him now.
Another group of students came through the door. Huto was among
them. Huto saw Buz, took a look at the situation and stormed over to
Barab — fists clenched, and barking, “Let him go, now!” Huto was with a
couple of his friends from the hognot team, and Barab responded with,
“Shit!”
They released Jan. It was then that Ziba and another teacher came into
the stairway to see what the commotion was. Barab and his gang took off
up the stairs past Buz.
Jan was brushing himself off. “Thanks a lot,” he said to Huto.
“Don’t expect me to bail you out next time,” Huto said, and then he
looked up at Buz, and said, “You OK?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks buddy, I don’t know what would have
happened if you hadn’t shown up,” Buz said, shaking his head.
“Don’t mention it — we’re still on for tonight, right?” Huto asked,
and then he looked back at Jan with no little scorn. He thought Jan was a
wuss, an emui. He did not like seeing his old friend Buz hanging with Jan.
It made Buz look weaker than he usually looked.
“You bet,” said Buz.
Ziba recognized what just took place. She glanced at Jan, and then
back at the teacher who was with her.
Jan looked at her, anticipating that she had something to say. She did.
“Jan, would you come to my office after school tomorrow?” Ziba
asked. “I would like to go over some of your math with you.”
Jan was confused as to why a meeting was necessary, but said, “Sure,
should I bring my books?”
“No, I have some other ones for you,” she replied, rather furtively.
It was Jan’s turn to study
her
now.
Her smile looks real enough,
he
thought. He replied, “OK, we’ll see you tomorrow,” and smiled back at
her. When he did, it almost seemed as though her eyes sparkled for a
moment.
Buz said, “C’mon, Jan, we’re going to miss the bus.”
So they went on their way, and did indeed miss the bus. Their homes
were only a thirty-minute walk away, so they started following the
smallish but well-maintained brick road that ran along the school there.
There were a number of housing subdivisions nearby and they passed
many of the mounds of the homes while on their walk. In this area, they
used plain uncolored gravel over the homes and yards, and most were
fenced. Eventually it became sparser for a while, with a few businesses or
construction sites along the way.
“You should come over tonight,” said Buz, as he gave a stone a sidearmed throw up ahead and watched it bounce.
“I dunno,” Jan replied, “I don’t think Huto likes me much.”
“He’s just jealous ‘cause you ace every test, and he’s struggling to get
into Party Management College. He wants his dad’s life, enough income
to qualify for two wives, and the lifestyle that comes with being a party
boss. That’s why he wears that neckcloth all the time. He thinks it will
help, somehow.” Buz knew Huto well because they grew up as neighbors
before Buz moved into Jan’s neighborhood on the east side of town.
They had walked about halfway home. Jan and Buz were passing a
parked buckboard loaded with scrap and did not see as Barab, Sak, and
another guy popped out from behind it. Within seconds, they were on Jan
and Buz. Barab noticed earlier that they had not made it to the bus, so he
and his posse got off early in hopes of ambushing Jan and Buz as they
walked home. He was right.
Because of the element of surprise, Barab managed to snag Buz because he was the closest, while Sak and the other guy caught and were
holding Jan.
Barab had Buz down on his back, pinned by Barab’s much heavier
frame. He looked at the other two holding Jan, and ordered, “Hold him —
I’ll get to him next!” They were at a construction site, and there were
piles of sand around them. Barab grabbed a handful, and started shoving it
into Buz’s mouth, choking him.
Jan saw something out of the corner of his eye as he struggled to free
himself from both of his attackers who each had a tight grip on both of his
arms.
“You’re going to kill him!” Jan yelled at Barab. “Let him up! He
can’t breathe!”
Barab paid Jan no mind and continued holding his hand over Buz’s
sand-stuffed mouth.
Jan violently yanked the guy on his left towards him, and managed to
head-butt him sharply in the nose and right eye. Startled, his grip
loosened, and Jan immediately stomped on Sak’s shin and foot, causing
Sak to release his hold momentarily so that Jan could break free, and Jan
ran to what he saw in the sand.
It’s there!
Jan rejoiced as he pulled a shovel out from the sand and
came out swinging it wildly at the pair, who immediately backed off. Jan
ran over to Barab who was just becoming aware of this, and cracked him
hard with the shovel on the side of his turning pulpy face. Then he
smashed Barab repeatedly on the head and back, until Barab — screaming, cut, and bleeding, jumped up and ran to the others. Jan was raging,
screaming, coming right after them and still swinging the shovel. They
were all running. After it looked like they were really gone for certain, he
stopped, and remembering Buz, went back to him. Buz was sitting up
now, spitting out the sand and choking.
They could still hear Barab, screaming, from further away now, “You
wait, this isn’t over! I’m going to get you! I’ll get even —”
“I can’t believe it!” Buz said, still catching his breath in between
coughing up and spitting sand, “I thought I was dead meat.” Then he
looked at Jan and realized, “You saved my life.” He looked like he was
trying to process it. “You saved me! You watch — I’ll tell Huto about this
tonight, and he’ll change his mind about you — he’ll have to!”
“Right now I don’t care,” Jan replied. “I’m just glad it’s over. Let’s
go home.”
He took the shovel with them, just in case.

Chapter Fifteen
Growing Pains
T

he next school day was rather uneventful. After math class,
(which was in the middle of the school day this day,) Ziba
asked Jan to come up to her desk at the end of class. “Are we
still on for the end of the day?” she asked, expectantly.

“That’s my plan,” Jan replied. “Can I ask what this is about?” he
asked.
“I would rather wait until then,” Ziba replied, smiling.
Jan spent the rest of the day wondering what she wanted.
It can’t
simply be about math,
he thought. When Jan saw Buz later, he said, “I
won’t be coming home on the bus today, I’m meeting with Ziba.”
Buz was puzzled, and mused on the reason asking, “What’s she want,
anyway? You get good grades.”
Jan just shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t know, but it seems
important to her.” They parted ways for their respective classes. Eventually the school day ended, and Jan went to Ziba’s classroom.
He knocked on the door, and Ziba called out for Jan to enter. He came
in, and she was at her desk working on some class work. She looked up,
motioned to the chairs in front of her desk and said, “Please, have a seat,
Jan.” She put down her pen, and looked at him. For a short while she did
not do anything but sit and smile at Jan.
Jan didn’t know what to do, so he just smiled back. He noticed she
was scratching her hand.
“Do you know what this means, Jan?” Ziba asked as she saw Jan
glancing at her hands.
“Do you mean your hand itches?” Jan asked.
Ziba laughed, and stopped scratching her hand. Then her demeanor
became more serious. “I noticed that Rebecca and Tama are friends of
yours. I know Tama very well.” She searched Jan’s eyes for any
expression of recognition.
Jan fidgeted in his seat, “I thought we were going to talk about math,”
he said.
Ziba looked disappointed with Jan’s response. “We’ll get to that in a
bit,” she said. “I have been watching you, Jan. Do you ever feel like you
are different from the others in this school? I mean,
really
different?”
Jan wondered where this was going, but he bit, “Yes, I feel very
different. I feel like a fish out of water. I don’t like it, but I’m about to
graduate anyway, so it’s no big deal.”
Ziba paused. She picked up her pen again, tapping it lightly, looking
for the right words. “Why have you chosen Tama and Rebecca as
friends?”
“Well,” Jan thought aloud, “Rebecca has been my neighbor since I
was a baby, and Tama —” He realized that the only reason he knew Tama
is because of LERN meetings. It was the only thing they had in common.
Seeing the perplexed look on Jan’s face when it came to Tama, Ziba
moved in for the kill. “Well, what is it about Tama?”
“She’s pretty,” Jan lamely lied. “That’s all.”
“That’s all?” Ziba responded with a kind smile. She said, “Surely
there’s more to it than that,” testing Jan’s response. This had to be done
very carefully. “Where did you first get to know her? I can’t see anything
you two have in common, or am I missing something?”
Jan had a flash of intuition.
Is Ziba really headed there?
Jan asked
himself.
Does she know about us? This doesn’t feel like an interrogation.
He studied her.
What is it about her? She seems so calm, comforting.
Loving. Loving?
Ziba just sat there, quietly waiting on Jan to make the next move. His
reaction to her deeper questioning about Tama told her that Jan was
holding back, but she waited patiently.
Jan was beginning to entertain the thought that she may be in LERN.
Either that, or she was searching out LERN members for arrest.
No,
he
thought,
she doesn’t look or act the type to be with the police.
He
answered her question. This time, he gave her a clue, and wanted to see
her reaction. “I met Tama at some meetings.”
Ziba took a deep, happy breath, and slowly let it out. “What kind of
meetings?” she asked.
“You tell me,” Jan replied, with a smile on his face, waiting expectantly for her response.
“Are they meetings where you can be yourself?” Ziba asked.
“Yes, unless myself is a keesh,” Jan replied, jokingly.
“Are the meetings secret?” Ziba asked further.
This time Jan got a bit frightened. She suspected, and she was feeling
him out.
As far as I know, this is a trap.
He started to rise to leave. “I don’t think I want to talk any more, I
need to get going,” he said, hoping to get out fast before he regretted it.
Ziba had already determined that Jan was in LERN, and did not want
this moment to escape her. This unique student was leaving, and he may
not give her another chance. “I’m one of you,” she blurted out.
Jan stopped, shocked that she would take such a risk, but he had to
make sure. “One of who?” he asked.
Ziba walked around her desk, came up to him, putting out her hands,
and asked, “May I?” Without waiting for an answer, she took hold of his
hands to make the smallest of love circles.
Jan’s face dropped, and he followed her lead, looking into her eyes, as
she was to him.
This is interesting,
he thought,
I’m in a love circle with
my math teacher.
He was already familiar with this because of the
meetings. He willingly joined her for a while, feeling, enjoying the love
grow, and appreciating her more than he had expected.
Ziba spoke first. “You’ve done this many times, haven’t you?”
Jan looked into her eyes. He saw the love there that couldn’t be
spoofed, and said, “Yes.” They smiled at each other for a while. It was the
first time he had made contact with someone new outside of the meetings.
It felt good, but neither of them had really come out and said it straight
yet.
“How do you like the meetings?” Ziba asked.
“I really like them a lot,” Jan replied. “I’d like to find more writings
to study, but they are hard to come by.”
Ziba laughed, and slapped his shoulder. “I knew it! I can sure spot
you kids! You probably attend meetings on the south of Justilant,
hmmm?”
“Why yes, I do,” Jan replied.
“That’s why I’ve never seen you at a meeting. I prefer the ones on the
north side of town. You should visit sometime.” Then Ziba looked
puzzled. “Why don’t you know the sign?”
“What sign?” Jan asked, curious.
“The LERN sign,” Ziba said. “I would assume that your mother or
father is a member. Weren’t you taught?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Jan replied. “My mother
taught me everything about this so far.”
“Well, you are old enough to know, and you need to know, in order to
be safe, now that you are meeting others. Here, when I scratch my left
thumb, and then scratch my right thumb, that’s the sign for now.” Ziba
showed him, and then they sat and talked for about an hour. When Jan
told her he loved the Platac writings in particular, she went to her desk,
and pulled out three complete pages for him to read while he was there.
“When you have more time, you can come back and copy these,” Ziba
offered.
Jan was delighted at the new scriptures before him. He loved the
Platac knack for writing. The text flowed with gentleness and was
inspiring in its poetic language.
They eventually said their goodbyes, and Jan went home, in very high
spirits.
Ziba is great,
he thought.
I am so glad this happened.
It was getting darker, and he walked fast to get home. Jan was just
about home when the school detention bus passed by, and as he was
looking at it, he saw a familiar face — Barab, staring back through the
bus window with an intensity that made Jan’s heart “hiccup”.
No — not
again!
The bus stopped, and Jan started running. Barab had Sak and two
more guys with him. One of them was tall, a very fast runner, and he
caught up to Jan first, grabbing him and throwing Jan to the sidewalk. The
others got there ahead of Barab, who was slowed down by his limp. They
were all holding Jan down.
Barab was not smiling this time. He had a bandage on the side of his
head from Jan’s shovel treatment the day before. Barab was raging as he
approached them, roaring as he kicked Jan hard in the side. “C’mon guys,
he ain’t just for me!” Barab yelled as they all proceeded to kick him in the
head, face, back, and stomach.
Every time Jan tried to get up one of them kicked his arms or legs,
and he was back down, covering his head and shouting. He kept kicking
and yelling, but he was eventually exhausted. He gave up, hoping it
would be over soon, as he curled up, trying to cover his face and head
from the blows. Blood was streaming into his eyes now, and the pain
from his back and stomach was intensified with every kick he received.
Barab stopped kicking, and stood above Jan now. He was panting
from the exertion, and his blood was boiling. He was in the “predator
zone”. He pulled out a long knife that had a saw-tooth edge. He said to
the others, “Hold him down, don’t let him move,” and ran his fingers
along the edge of his knife.
Jan glanced up and trying to escape, started kicking at Sak, who was
holding his feet.
They’re going to kill me, right here!
“Hold him down, I said!” Barab shouted, pointing his knife at Sak
and the ones pinning Jan to the ground. They all quickly immobilized Jan,
and with the combined weight, he did not stand a chance.
Barab got down on his knees, and ground the side of Jan’s head into
the sidewalk with all his weight, and put the knife against the side of Jan’s
neck, getting ready to saw through it.
Jan could smell Barab’s putrid breath when he yelled again at the
others, “Hold him still!” whilst Jan was still squirming and screaming,
trying to get free.
They did not hear an older neighbor approaching, out walking his
pedigreed blog. He saw what was happening, and yelled at them to stop,
and they simply ignored him. Then the neighbor called out Barab’s name,
and Barab stopped for a moment, looking over at the neighbor.
“Shit! He knows me!” Barab looked down at Jan, breathing heavily,
and sneered, saying once again, “This isn’t over, punk.” Then he rose and
gave Jan two more kicks to the stomach, causing Jan to start vomiting,
and there was blood in it. They all then ran off down the street. The blog
was screeching at all the action.
The neighbor ran over with his blog in tow and helped Jan up. “Are
you OK?” he asked.
Jan got up and dropped back down. He started crying, sitting there on
the sidewalk in the dark, spitting blood. His stomach — and the head he
almost lost were killing him.
“They’re gone now,” the neighbor said. He then helped Jan up again,
and down the street to his home. When they got there, Jan dragged
himself inside.
When Martha saw him come into the kitchen, and saw the blood he
was coughing up, she panicked. “Oh my God! What happened to you?
We need to get you to the hospital!” As she was helping Jan to the living
room to lie down, he passed out. His face was so swollen he was difficult
to recognize. Martha wiped off the blood — there was so much of it
because of the cuts to his head and neck.
Three days had passed, and Jan had not regained consciousness. His
mother and father spent as much time as they could at the hospital, but it
was Ziba who was there when Jan awoke.
“Where am I?” Jan asked himself, groggily looking around. He recognized the bed he was in as clinical, and there were electronic devices in
the room. “This looks like a hospital.” He looked to his right, and saw a
figure sitting there. As his vision cleared, he could see it was Ziba.
“Where’s my mother?” Jan asked.
Ziba was happy to see him awaken. She had come after school each
day to see how he was doing. “Your mother was here all day, and just left
for the night shift. She will be so happy to see you when she comes in
tomorrow. She’s a very lovely person,” Ziba said, with a kindly smile. “I
met her two days ago, here in the hospital. You’re lucky to have her.”
“Luck?” Jan said. “Did luck get me in here?” He was remembering
now. Barab. He winced as he recalled the attack. He became aware of the
pain in his side and head. He found himself becoming angry.
His nurse came in. She smiled at Ziba, and when she saw that Jan was
awake, she looked shocked and excited. “You’re awake, handsome!” She
looked at the teacher, and asked, “When did he wake up, Ziba?”
Ziba responded, “Just a few minutes ago, Rachel. He seems all right.”
The nurse walked over to Jan’s bedside, and checked his vitals. “You
poor thing. Nobody deserves this — nobody.” She stroked his crest in a
caring manner that was unusual from a stranger. “Your swelling is almost
gone.” The nurse’s touch felt good.
It was evident that Ziba and Rachel knew each other well. Jan had
been given a hypnotic sedative. The drug was to help with both the
physical and the mental pain. Still, he was gaining more alertness. The
nurse was an eyeful.
Was her name Rachel?
Rachel was outstandingly pretty. She appeared to be very young for
the job. She had a reddish tint to her crest, and she apparently liked
lipstick and fingerclaw polish that was deep red as well. She was a bit on
the smaller side, but had bigger breasts than almost any female he had
seen before.
Why is she so happy to see me awake?
he thought to himself.
“Here, let me make you more comfortable,” Rachel said as she leaned
over Jan to reposition his pillow. She didn’t mind rubbing her breasts
lightly against him. “OK, you just relax, and I’ll check back later,” Rachel
assured him with a sweet smile, and then she left to continue on her
rounds.
She made him feel better, but as soon as Rachel left his room, Jan
became aware of the pain, and negative thoughts began to slip into his
mind. He began thinking aloud, “I’m sick of this. I think LERN just
weakens me. I would have been able to fight those guys off if I were
tougher, if I had trained, like Dad said. I should have been on the watch
for them.”
He was becoming angrier with himself, his mother, LERN, the world
— and then the thought of the Guide came into his mind.
“Fuck the Guide!” he shouted furiously, leaning forward and shaking
his fists in the air, forgetting for a moment that Ziba was sitting there.
“Where were you?” he yelled in his white hospital room, then fell back,
anger giving way to depression.
Jan’s words caught Ziba’s attention. “What did you say?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Jan sighed.
“I’m serious, what did you just say?” Ziba insisted.
Jan sighed, and perhaps it was the drug, but he decided to tell her,
“Sometimes this guide talks to me and gives me advice.” He paused,
looked at her, and sighed again. “I don’t even think he’s real now, and he
sure didn’t warn me about this,” and then looking up into the air and
clenching his fists again, barked loudly, “Didn’t you?”

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