Nemecene: The Epoch of Redress (29 page)

Quiet. It's very quiet. Is he waiting for me to say something? Deep breath in, then out.

"I'm back. Ta, chum."

"Where did you go?"

Keet gives me the don't-you-tell-him look. Certainly, not here anyway, but Stitch really looks so sad. His hair is droopy. He's hurt. He's hurt we don't trust him. I give Keet the don't-you-think-it's-about-time look, and he sends me back the don't-you-even-
think
-about-it look. Meanwhile, Stitch is retreating.

"Trip. When you're ready then, chumbuds."

Everyone's up at once. Don't tell me it's the zombie thing again. They're all leaving and so is Stitch. Better call him. "Hey!" I don't like that smile. Too cocky. What's he thinking?

"You'd rather stay here? You're going to miss the inauguration." Oh, he's covering for us. Let's go. He follows behind and whispers in my ear. "No bioCal either, yeah?"

"Who needs bioCal when you have a gooseberry. Right, Keet? Honk honk honk." Hehehe. A smirk. It bugs him when I rib his toy. And the goose dig? Clever. But Stitch isn't slow. Anything but. It's time I stop making up stories. I whisper back, "It doesn't work. But you already knew, eh?"

Finally a gentle smile. "I know lots of things. Try me some time."

Ok. That's a challenge. "So where are we going?"

"The Pramam's speech, tough one. Starts in...nine minutes in Rubrique Court. It's on the student calendar, so the bioCal program makes the biochip talk." He leans over closer. "I hear voices too." Poke. Big smile.

"And bioRhythms?"

"Pica Trip! I have it on all the time. My favorite station is Oye Amigos!"

Aha! That's why he's always bopping.

"Doesn't it get noisy in there? How do you hear yourself think?"

"Only listen to one station at a time. Not like you, yeah?"

How true. And my voices aren't nearly as fun. That's a fact. Crap! They have a portable scanner at the arch.

"You have your rubbers, Eli?" Phew. Yeah. I forgot. And Keet? He's good, but he's giving me that what-exactly-did-you-tell-him look. Send him back the don't-worry look. This is silly. We're playing eyeball telepathy.

Stitch throws a pant rip at the operator. We enter the sector together. Juicy. We're through. Everyone's so quiet. I'd better keep my voice down.

"Stitch, why the mutes?"

"Announcements."

"What are they saying?"

"Propaganda. I'll debrief you later." The people around us are staring. Keet kicks my shin. He's right. I shouldn't draw attention to us.

It's an eerie feeling. I can hear yet I am deaf. It's like I am living on the edge of an invisible dimension that I never even knew existed. And now that I do, I feel ever more disconnected than before. Look at them all. They are all in their heads but listening to the same voice. It's unnatural. How am I going to fake this when I start my first shift with Dr. Tenille? Perk. Here he comes. His mouth is moving, but... Crap! Is he going to talk as a bioApp as well? Oh good. Just a volume malfunction.

"Welcome all and may They grant peace upon you."

"They are One."

Better play along. Mumble and point the number three to the sky with my left hand. Then back into a fist. And my turn to kick. Frown at him. Stop playing with the stripper and pay attention.

"Chancellor Vitalidad? Approach the Mount. Blessed be your Trinity in this new assignment. Gracious be They unto you and your community. Perfect are They."

"They are One."

"And finally, please join me in a moment of silent meditation to pay tribute to an honorable guide, Chancellor O'Leary, as he passes through the darkness and into the light where They wait for his Unified spirit."

I know I should look downcast, but I can't help feeling watched. Almost studied. Shouldn't the counsellor be here? I see most of the teachers in the crowd. He's not on the stage either. Crap! Eyes back down. It's the Pramam's advisor. He is staring. He recognizes me from the daze. I'm positive. And Keet? But surely Stitch. I wish he had worn a hat.

"Perfect are They." Good, it's over.

"They are One."

Ok. So now tell us why you are really here Pramam.

"I have come to offer you my deepest regrets as a fraternity and to address the unspoken terror that has marred the serenity of this venerable institution. Misleading rumors have assumed the responsibility of open communications, and for this They apologize. Recent violations of personal liberties under the authority of the GMU have challenged your trust in the messenger of the Unification's divine mission, and for this They most humbly apologize. Mysterious are Their ways, but Perfect are They."

"They are One."

"Yes. The Truth be known to those who seek it. The atrocities in your very midst have caused the illustrious Pramam to seek Their council. The restrictions were necessary during the initial phase of the investigation, but rest assured that as a result we now have a suspect under close surveillance, and the matter has been transferred to the accomplished disciples of the SIF. Perfect are They."

"They are One."

"They, through the word of the Pramam, have lifted the restraints so that you may continue unhindered in Their work. The crimes which have returned to this great civilization after nine years of dormancy shall not persist unpunished. The suffering experienced by the two young girls who have recently perished through the hands of this twisted killer shall be avenged, and on that day, Their children shall be safe again. Perfect are They."

"They are One."

"Let us bow once again in silent meditation for the Trinity in the protectors and the girls who are now United."

The killer is still free? If Mashrin is dead, then why did they move her to the GHU. There should have been a ritual for her. We need to dig deeper into this. Maybe they're using her body as bait? What are Stitch and Keet up to?

"Perfect are They."

"They are One."

"And now for a few announcements from the Inner Council…"

Crap. He's staring this way again. Look away. What
are
they doing? He's not about to… Oh oh.

"
The Emperor's New Clothes
. Juicy!" Keet? No. He didn't! Stitch is having an influence on him. Love it!

That broke the advisor's concentration. I think it's a good time to leave now while everyone is hysterical. They've adjourned the assembly anyway.

"You're crazed, bud. Pica trip!" They just bonded. Good sign. "Perk. Where's the third guy?"

"Who?"

"His second-in-command. Here. I have a flash of him on a slip somewhere. I grabbed it from the morning news. It was taken at the parade yesterday."

"Show us. Over there in the orchard."

He hands me the slip. Keet and I squeeze in close. Don't panic. He's not breathing. I'm not breathing. What the!

"Father!"

Day 33: Late Evening

B
eyond every apparent impasse awaits a tremendous breakthrough, and today proved to be one such threshold, a critical test of absolute trust and exceptional courage. Trust on my part for the sincerity and commitment of a boy who has become my best friend, and courage on Eli's part to willingly deliver herself into the realm of her greatest nightmare. And as for the closing part of my particular day? A whole new level of trust, which I'll get to later. But first...

There was no denying the disparate choices that lay before us. On one hand, we could let Father defeat us, as Eli's mental state continues to deteriorate and to become impotent with fear. On the other, we could thrust ourselves passionately into the psychological battlefield that has become our reality. His privileged position on the Inner Council as the Pramam's favored puppet endows him with an arsenal of powerful resources to wield for whatever campaigns he elects to support, such as maintaining a veil of secrecy around the real significance behind a young girl's tragedy. It was due time for me to give Stitch the much belated honor he deserves, so that, as one, we could support Eli in the dangerous assignment only she can complete.

After we had recovered from the shock of Father's secret identity, we retreated to Stitch's room and initiated a candid conversation. Eli bared her heart to him, releasing years of repressed anger and frustration in a gushing flood of emotions. It was as if her delicate dam, precariously patched with years of sheer will, had finally succumbed to the fissures that the voices and nightmares were constantly forming, and had suddenly burst from the added stress of the past month. As best she could, through the tears, she divulged the most intimate details of her inner struggle, the likes of which she had been protecting me from until now. She admitted to having consciously neglected certain facts in order to avoid arriving at conclusions that she could not reasonably accept. Today marked the end of Eli's intellectual prison.

Stitch was visibly moved. All three of us had become fully vulnerable to each other's motives and ultimately responsible for each other's lives. He embraced Eli tightly and simply allowed her to soften in his arms. You can well imagine the displeasure I was experiencing at this foreign physical display, but my decision to trust, unconditionally, tempered my reaction. When I reached over to caress Eli's shoulder in sincere adoration, she jumped into my arms and gave me a big kiss on the cheek, inadvertently dragging Stitch's head with her. His hair had chosen to join in the fun and had wound itself around a lock of her hair, which prompted a much needed laugh. Out came the hands, and down came the fists, as we sealed our unbreakable bond with the chumbuds salute.

Our hopes had returned, and our next task did not seem quite as daunting. At midi, Eli was to meet Dr. Tenille, so we had to sketch quickly through the maze for as much information as we could gather about the security and the exact location of Mashrin's body in the GHU complex. While the packets were building the access instructions Eli would follow, we reanalyzed the possible significance of my informant's latest two-part note in light of Father's suspected role.

Let's start with the shorter statement: "She still exists in her mind." What if "she" and "her" did not represent the same person? Could Mashrin still exist in Eli's mind? If "she" were referring to Eli, at this point, we concluded that it was no longer accurate, since we had just witnessed a very dramatic vertical shift in her awareness, which implies that her perspective has started to expand past the limited intellect. Besides, all three of us know Mashrin exists so that interpretation does not make any sense. On the flip side, perhaps it is Mashrin who still exists in her own mind, a highly unreasonable scenario for a dead person. I must side with science on that one, unless we are open to entertaining the improbable. Maybe you can tell us.

The second part I include here for the record.

"Broken and torn shall she reveal herself to you in the darkest hour of her existence. And you shall come to her begging for forgiveness and she should say to you there is nothing to forgive being that you and she are entangled in a dance for all eternity and shall become that which is right and virtuous through no misdeeds of your own."

This one is clearer to me, although I have been proven wrong before, by your lovely daughter in fact, to her invariable delight. Is this a prophecy of this morning's breakdown, or unimaginably worse, a warning that more suffering is yet to come and that I am somehow unwittingly responsible for bringing her to the brink of despair? I fear the hallucinations have already begun. Certain aspects of Eli's testimony were contradictory. Furthermore, except for the three officials chasing her from a publicly declared restricted zone for illegally skipping curfew, finding a body on campus, and running into an exotic beauty from time to time, she is the only witness to all other accounts. Even your missing jewel and the exchange she claims to have spied outside our kitchen window play into a paranoid delusion. I remember what you were like, talking to the void, and frantically searching for items you claimed "they" stole from you, just to find them turn up later in your hands. And what about the messages? Has her passion for adventure become an obsession and needs to seduce others in its game, culminating in the ultimate thrill: engulfed in the belly of the GHU?

Between the Ministry conspiracy argument, Father's appearance, and my own private theories, I was apprehensive about letting her follow through with the internship, but Stitch appeased my worries somewhat with another ingenious trick, and I opted to reserve my final judgment until the return. Allegedly, according to Dr. Tenille, there were vaults on location where each physician maintained unofficial patient logs, notes, thoughts, and the like in personal journals. Borrowing your entries in his past records and those of your previous medic was our best chance of grasping the full extent of your disability and saving Eli's sanity. Alternatively, I figured that if this were indeed solely another fabrication within an elaborate fantasy, then her being discovered and hospitalized may be the safest path for her in the end. Of course, this latter thought is between you and me.

Before we parted, Stitch gently untied Eli's ponytail and adjusted a band over her ears, fluffing her hair with the pomp of an expert coiffeur. He explained that since there was a plausible chance that Father might be at the GHU, this device would keep her abreast of any sudden security broadcasts. The imbedded earpiece in the fabric intercepts bioApp transmissions, cracks their frequencies, decodes the contents, encodes it back onto the audible frequency range, and focuses an amplified signal directly into the ear canal. I wouldn't mind one of those myself, but it would have taken Stitch a few hours to make a more masculine version for me, and he wanted to continue hacking the advisor's communications. As I had been given the day off in response to the Pramam's request for exclusive access to the archives during his visit, I too had other priorities. I needed to spend the afternoon in the commercial sector, shopping for a formal linen shirt, a space heater for my little buddy, and most importantly, another bookshelf. We all took a deep breath and agreed to regroup back at Stitch's after her shift.