Unison (The Spheral) (17 page)

“Can I have a cookie?” he asked.

“It’s almost time for supper.”

“Just one, Mother…please. I promise I’ll eat all my food.”

“What will happen if you don’t eat all your food?” I smiled at the boy.

“I won’t have another cookie for the next ten-thousand days.”

Signy opened a jar, and Shawn removed a cookie.

“You’re as cunning as your absent father,” Signy said.

“Thanks!”

Shawn ran outside, and Signy continued peeling a potato.

“What is mother and father?” I asked. “I’m unfamiliar with these words.”

Signy stopped peeling and stared at me in disbelief. “Shawn is
born
from me, so he calls me, ‘mother.’ My husband—the man to whom I was married—he’s Shawn’s father.”

“Where is he now?”

“The coughing fever eternally silenced him last year.” She eyed me strangely. “Don’t you have parents where you come from?” Signy noticed my confusion again. “Your mother and father are your
parents
. How were you born without them?”

“We never meet our parents; we’re…
born
in incubation tanks.” I laughed. “I never imagined using that word in relation to humans.”

“Why not?”

“In Unity, ‘born’ is a term used for animals only.”

We returned to peeling potatoes, and I pondered over the many Unitian deceptions I’d uncovered since I left Unity. I was certain there were more, and that became apparent during dinner when I observed the loving interaction between Signy and Shawn. It made me realize the full extent of what had been stolen from us and left me feeling angry—not just for myself, but for all of Unity’s children.

Shawn waved a serving tray in front of me. The roasted dog looked appetizing, but my stomach strongly disagreed. 

“No thanks.”

“Your loss.” Shawn put down the tray and picked up a piece of meat with his hand. “My mother makes the best dog in all of our village.”

“I’m sure she does.” I picked up the salad bowl and spooned my third portion onto a plate. “I can’t get enough of these tomatoes. Never knew they could be this sweet.”

“What do they taste like in your village?” Shawn asked.

“Nothing. There’s absolutely no flavor to them.”

“Why do you want to cross the old tunnel?”

“To see what’s on the other side, of course.” I smiled and patted Shawn’s head.

Signy passed me a bowl of herbed potatoes. “Now that we’re acquainted, I must warn you not to go to the tunnel.”

“Did any of your people ever travel across?”

“Only once. Now none of us dare to even enter.”

“Why?”

“Hell lies beyond its confining walls.”

I laughed, and Signy angrily walked over to the wash bin.

“Please…come back. I’m not laughing at you.”

Signy rinsed a plate, refusing to look my way.

“I used to believe in hell, but I don’t anymore,” I said.

“Why not?” Shawn asked.

“The explanation sounded too crazy to be real.”

Signy turned and faced me as she dried the plate. “What did you believe?”

“After death, those of us with a diseased brain emit garbled frequencies. The diseased essence can’t integrate with the Prime Wisdom and is lost in an eternal nothingness. Those who ascend are joined with God for an eternity and add to the knowledge that is channeled by the Overseer.”

“I’m too confused by that explanation to be scared.”

“Me too,” Shawn said.

“Fear has been the most effective tool used to control my people. Most Unitians never leave the dome out of fear of catching a disease that would damn them to hell.”

Signy sat back down. “Sounds a little like us.”

“Perhaps one day, you’ll find the courage to explore beyond the tunnel.”

“I always dreamed of exploring the world, and even flying on a giant bird through the heavens, but this is my home. I’m content here with Shawn.” Signy smiled and lifted the plate of potatoes. “Have more. Your journey will be a long one.”

Signy set up a cot for me, and I ended up staying for two days. I got to know the villagers, some of whom lived past seventy years. Each aged face I greeted proved the scourge was a lie, which meant something else was shortening our lifespans. Every possible reason I imagined disturbed my sleep, but when I awoke to a people who appreciated everything they had, I felt uplifted and ready to continue my journey.

On the morning of my departure, Signy prepared a large breakfast for me. With my stomach filled with food, I continued my journey. On my own again, my thoughts returned to Old Woman, Wade, and Flora. Internal arguments, self-condemnations, and rants accompanied me down narrow paths and spacious fields of tall grass. Some of them brought me to my knees and made me want to give up, others made me want to get up and keep going. This went on until I caught glimpse of the old tunnel. I paused to admire the mysterious structure I had fantasized about since childhood. And like a child I laughed as I ran toward the opening.

OLD TUNNEL

B
eyond the archway of the old tunnel the light slowly faded, and my lantern was the only thing that kept me from disappearing within a seemingly infinite blackness. Signy told me it would take ten to twelve hours to cross to the other side of the old tunnel. With my lantern fully charged and a spare battery in my pack, I wasn’t concerned over being left in the dark.

I read an entry about the tunnel in Old Woman’s holologue before I surrendered it to Unity Forces. The structure was near collapse shortly before the Great Cataclysm, and an indestructible synthetic material was developed to reinforce the frame. I thought it was hyperbole until I glided my hands over the smooth surface. When the light from my lantern revealed neither a scratch nor a chip, I realized how far we regressed technologically.

Approximately two hours into my trek I met a Unitian couple headed in the opposite direction, and the female was pregnant.

“Where are you headed?” I asked.

“Back to our village,” the woman replied.

“Near the valley or sea?”

The woman eyed her male companion who shined his lantern in my face.

“All the way up north—beyond both mountains,” he said. “When did you leave Unity?”

“Three weeks ago. I’m heading to New Athenia. Have you been there?”

“We just came from there. My wife wanted to visit before giving birth.”

“How much further do I have until the exit-way?”

“About another seven hours. If you want to stop for a rest, there are some trainlets about halfway in. They used to carry the Ancients from one side of the tunnel to the other. There are many of them in here, but only the first one you’ll come across is safe. If you stay, make sure to leave some form of payment for the careman.” He removed a map from his pocket and handed it to me.

“Already have a map,” I said.

“With the trade routes?”

I examined his map. “Anything else I should be aware of?”

“Only that you made the right decision to leave. There’s a lot to see on the other side. Safe journey.”

I made it to the trainlets three hours later and found one that was vacant. The only thing I could afford to part with was my multipurpose knife. I opened the payment box and a lame man with tangled hair, unsuccessfully held in place by a bandana, hobbled over. He tapped his cane on the ground in several short bursts.

“Hello, Hello, Hello there, Chap.” The tone of his greeting sounded as though he knew me. “Name’s Sephroy. I’m the careman of these ‘lets.”

“Damon.” I shook his hand, hoping he wasn’t the carrier of a fatal disease.

“Damon, Damon, Damon. Interesting name, Damon.” He stretched his head towards me, squinted his eyes and then widened them. “Suits you, Chap.” He snickered and positioned his cane in front of him for support. “Back’s been acting up more so than usual today. I’ll let you stay free of charge if you clean up my ‘lets.”

I accepted Sephroy’s offer, relieved I wouldn’t have to part with my knife. He pointed to a nearby cart with his cane. “All the cleaning supplies are in there. All the waste goes into the vat behind the last ‘let.”

When I entered the first trainlet, every joint in my body locked. Behind several rows of seats were two long benches that faced each other. Overhead was a line of handles that dangled from the ceiling. This was the same room from my vision of Torrin and Old Woman. After my shock dissipated, I carried the waste bucket outside. When I opened the lid to empty the contents into the vat, the stench made me reconsider my deal with Sephroy. I ran to his cabin to relinquish my knife.

“I was counting on your help today.” Sephroy grabbed his lower back. “Don’t know what your word is worth in that dome dungeon of yours, but out here, it’s all we got.”

I handed Sephroy my knife, and he looked at it and then at me. “You’ve forgotten the meaning of honor.” He reached out his hand to take the knife, and I placed it back in my pocket.

I returned to the cleaning, which wasn’t anything more than throwing away rubbish, replacing the two supplied sleeping bags, and pulling up the shade to let travelers know the trainlet was vacant. The worst of it was the waste buckets. I gagged several times until my nose got used to the stench. The vat where I dumped the waste was filled with compost, but it didn’t help mask the odor. A network of helpers showed up in intervals to remove the waste in exchange for tradable items that Sephroy acquired through payment or from procurements made outside the tunnel.

After I finished cleaning, Sephroy invited me to his trainlet for a meal and advice on how to successfully live on the outside. I needed it. I still had no idea what I was going to do to earn a living. So far, most of the skills out here seemed more suited for orange sleeves.

“How did you know where I came from?” I asked in an attempt to avoid eating whatever was on the plate in front of me.

Sephroy reached across the table and clasped my hand. “You have the hands of a girl. Only men from the dome have hands like a girl.” He laughed.

I stared at my plate while thinking of an excuse to get me out of there.

“Dog.” Sephroy shoved a piece of meat into his mouth. “Too many of those four-legged demons running around.” He chewed with his mouth open. “I never can seem to kill enough of them.” He pointed his fork at my plate. “Are you going to eat that or make it your pet?” He laughed.

As I examined the contents of my plate, I couldn’t get my mind off my last visit to the waste vat. The smell still lingered in my nostrils.

Sephroy laughed as he picked up the cooked dog from my plate. “The squeamish type, aye Chap?” He took another bite. “Better learn to take what you can get if you want to survive out here. If that truth is too harsh for your pretty hands to grab on to, you might as well go home and paint your fingernails like the ladies from your dome do.” He laughed and took a bite of food.

I grabbed a piece of meat from the serving tray and took a bite. My gag reflex immediately went into effect, and I ran outside to vomit. After I cleaned myself up, I returned and excused myself.

Phantom smells of human waste, cooked dog, and vomit followed me back to my trainlet. Once inside, the lantern light and drawn shades isolated me in my own world and inspired me to play a soft melody on my violin. After my senses were drained of the offending smells and flavors, I fell asleep still holding my violin.

The first hint of light that beamed into the tunnel made me pick up my pace. When I emerged from out of the darkness, fresh salt air entered my nose washing away the revolting odors from the previous night. I gazed up at the clear blue sky, both laughing and crying.
I’m here. I’m really here.
I bolted towards a cluster of seagulls, laughing and screaming like a child. After cooling off in the water, I walked along the beach, heading east. Ten kilometers later I spotted a small village with stone bungalows built in a circle formation. The village was long abandoned, but beyond the dilapidated gate was a functioning well. I searched through the bungalows looking for items to trade but nothing of value remained. After filling my canteen I continued my walk, meeting different tribes that spoke in their own dialects. I managed to earn tradable goods and meals by plowing fields, cleaning stables, and doing any menial task I could find along the way. On the outside, there was no color to ascend to. Everyone did everything. It was a humbling experience.