Unison (The Spheral) (35 page)

“Holly would kill me if I told you.”

I squeezed the stem of my glass tightly. Flora’s death combined with Lidian’s open display of affection towards Holly fragmented my whole understanding of justice. Kai and Lidian kept getting away with murder and were seemingly awarded for their crimes. Justice was exposed as another form of idealism that failed in reality. Either that or my villainy was worse than Lidian's and Kai’s. Everything seemed to lead back to Harmony. As long as I continued to invent it, I’d be guilty of crimes against humanity.

I guzzled down my remaining wine aiming to get drunk enough to forget about my past incarnations. “What made you decide to leave?” I asked Lidian.

“I always felt limited in Unity. Tyrus persuaded me to leave with him. He’s been a strong influence in my life.”

“And mine as well.” Holly picked up a carafe and poured some wine into my glass.

“Tyrus is the only one worth remembering from Unity,” I said.

“I had a hard time during my early years of study,” Lidian said. “I lived through a daily barrage of insults and beatings from the other kids in my dorm. The house maroons reprimanded them, but it made things worse. In my sixteenth year, Tyrus showed up while I was getting beaten up outside the library. He broke up the fight and took me to a satiation center for lunch. We talked for a long time, and I told him I hoped to be selected to play in the Unitian Orchestra for my life assignment. He allowed me to stay at the Academy of Sciences building. There were a few rooms the purple sleeves used on late nights, and he reserved one for me as payment for keeping the labs clean.”

Lidian took a sip of his wine and appeared to be reflecting on something. “Tyrus is different from the rest of the Corporate Hierarchy. He cares about the Unitians and believes they have the right to make their own decisions. When the Overseer planned to transmit Harmony to the fetuses—”

“When was this decided?”

“Shortly after you left. Tyrus couldn’t do anything to stop it, so he left as well.” Lidian poured some more wine into his glass and topped off mine. “Do you regret inventing Harmony?”

“One of many regrets.” I gazed at Holly and finished my wine in one long swallow.

“Did you use Freedomline?”

“Did it all on my own. How did you get out?” I asked, hoping she’d mention Flora.

“Tyrus helped Holly and me leave together. That’s how we met.” Lidian smiled at Holly.

“Is he still here?”

“He left a little over two weeks ago—said he needed to experience more of the world.”

“He almost died,” Holly said.

“How?”

“He suffered from severe headaches. They found a growth in his brain. Doctors here successfully removed it.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“The lands of the Ancient’s bible,” Holly said.

Lidian put his arm around her. “He asked us along, but Holly just found out she was pregnant.”

I looked at Holly and tried to force a smile, but I couldn’t. I had to get out of there.

“You’re the first person we told.” Holly smiled.

“I’m honored.” I got up and almost stumbled. “It’s late. I should get going.”

Lidian insisted on accompanying me back to my flat. During our walk, all I could think of was how he had stolen my life. He had my job, my wife, and now he was going to have my children. James and Aaron never existed in the last few incarnations, and I couldn’t even fathom what that meant for them. All the while, Flora’s deaths hadn’t stopped replaying in my mind. My memories and flashbacks didn’t blend well with all the wine I drank. “You’re a lucky man,” I said. “Holly is a treasure. She’s going to make a great mother.”

“Tyrus knew we’d be good for each other.”

With Harmony out of range of the transmission towers, my hatred flowed out violently and unrestrained. “You may have successfully hidden who you really are from Holly and Tyrus, but not from me.” I stopped and pointed my finger at him. “I see you for what you are…a murderer and a liar.”

Lidian gawked at me. “Where is this coming from, Damon? I haven’t seen you since—”

“Why did you blame me, you slock!” I yelled. “I got thrown out of New Athenia twice because of you!”

“I think you’re confused. Let’s get you back to your flat. A good night’s sleep will—”

I punched Lidian and felt both scared and thrilled by my lack of restraint. I jabbed him again, and he seized my upper arms. “Damon, I will not fight you!”

I pulled myself back and was ready to strike him again, but something in his gaze gave me pause.

“You’re no different from any other Unitian. Find your own way home.” He left me alone.

Rattled by my loss of control, I ran and didn’t stop until I got home. I passed out on the couch and dreamed about finding Flora dead. As I held her in my arms, Sutara entered the cabin.

“Why do you keep asking me to come here?” I asked. “I find only death.”

She looked down at me. “You still do not want to see.”

“I’m trying.”

“Do not be afraid to see. The past has already occurred and cannot harm you.”

I hugged Flora tighter. “She feels real to me.”

“If you don’t remember, you’ll be here forever.”

I continued to hang on to Flora.

“She is going to keep dying if you—”

“I’ll save her next time.”

“How? You cannot even save yourself.”

“I said I’ll save her next time!”

“I’m tired of this sparring.” Sutara put her hands on her hips. “I finally see what I put my uncle through—always wanting a second serving of carrot halva—”

“I’m tired of all your secrets! If you have nothing else to say, get the slock out of here!”

I woke up and couldn’t return to sleep, so I visited the observatory and gazed at the stars. Somewhere, from within the Milky Way, inspiration came and helped me decide my next line of action.

What the stars communicated to me the previous night was validated during my morning walk with Shisa on top of the labyrinth. A view of the Parthenon and the city below felt more nostalgic than like home. New Athenia’s distractions couldn’t get my mind off Flora, and with Holly married, there was nothing to keep me here. I took the lift down to city level and picked up a fresh loaf of bread and goat’s cheese at the market. On my way to Lidian and Holly’s flat, a variety of excuses were forthcoming, but none seemed persuading—even to me. When Holly opened the door, I handed her the bread and cheese. She crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side.

“I need to speak to Lidian,” I said.

“So you can kill him?”

Lidian appeared and took the parcel. “Thanks, Damon.” He gave the bag to Holly and stepped outside. “Let’s go somewhere else. She’s more dangerous than you when she’s mad.”

I looked at Holly. “I can offer no excuse for my actions. My only hope is that you and Lidian will forgive me some day.”

Holly closed the door without saying a word.

“She’ll be okay,” Lidian said.

We walked to the duck pond in the central park. I removed some bread from my pack, and the tyrannical duck from my last visit pushed and pecked himself ahead of his competition. He quacked, and I leaned down to feed him. “Here you go,” I pondered over a name. “
Gadfly
.”

Gadfly plucked the bread from between my fingers.

“Gadfly?” Lidian asked.

I pointed toward my plumed friend. “At first I thought he was the overseer of this pond, but now I view him more as a Striker.”

“In what way?”

“He opposes the pecking order.” I hand-fed Gadfly another piece of bread and sat up. “So I gave him a fitting name.”

“You’re a strange man,” Lidian said, shaking his head.

“I just like ducks.”

Lidian laughed, breaking the tension between us.”

“What I did last night—wish I had a rational explanation, but I don’t.”

“The wine.”

“Wine usually relaxes me.” I tossed some more bread into the pond. Several ducks raced towards the morsel, but Gadfly got to it first. I quickly threw some more bread in the opposite direction to feed the others.

“Are you okay, Damon?” Lidian asked.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be okay.”

“What happened last night?”

“I lost sense of time.”

“Looked more like you lost sense of your senses.”

“That too.”

Lidian looked at my backpack. “Where are you going?”

“The lands of the Ancients' bible seems intriguing.”

I took a bite out of the bread and threw the rest towards a few pigeons. Shisa chased after the them, and they flew away. She chomped down on the bread, victorious.

“No one beat me up since school,” Lidian said. “For a brief moment I thought I was back in Unity reliving the worse years of my life.”

“I’m not like them.”

Shisa walked towards a lanky, dark-skinned man wearing a white kurta. He leaned down to pet her.

“I know,” Lidian said.

The man with the white kurta bowed his head towards me and smiled. I returned the gesture, and he walked away.

I faced Lidian. “Does that mean you accept my poorly executed apology?”

He extended his hand for me to shake. “I wish you luck on your travels, and I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

We shook hands. This time, when I looked at Lidian I recognized him for who he was in this moment, a truly evolved man.

On our way out of the park, we passed by the man with the white kurta. He sat crossed-legged on a small grassy hill with his eyes closed. I knew he came from east of New Athenia because of his clothing. I recently heard about their meditative techniques that opened the mind to the highest levels of mystical experiences. The traveler’s peaceful expression made me realize the only time I felt similarly was while I was immersed in the fountain of light. I mused over getting myself beaten up again.
Maybe it would bring back the fountain of light.
The thought made me laugh, and I had to explain to Lidian that I was sometimes prone to hysterical outbursts for no apparent reason.

“And you were a psychological engineer?”

“Were.” I smiled and ambled ahead.

Lidian followed me. “I stand by my verdict; you’re a strange man. Had your friends known this about you, I don’t think I would’ve appeared as crazy to them.”

After exchanging a few more insults, followed by some pointless banter about Manolis’s use of dramatic hand gestures to compensate over his lack of masculinity, I realized I made another friend.

I reclaimed my horse outside the gate and when I got out far enough to get a complete view of New Athenia and the Parthenon, I stopped to capture a still picture. No matter how many times I’d taken this shot, I never saw it the same way. My visual memory, in this particular moment, made me think about what Lidian’s successful evolution meant for me, and for all of humanity. If a murderer could evolve, that meant no absolutes of good and evil existed beyond the realm of time. I needed to know this because it meant I had a chance to stop myself from inventing Harmony. There’s an Ancient cliché that says a picture is worth one thousand words; my picture was worth more. Whenever I lost sight of my goal, I only had to look at it to remember. And with that image in my mind, I had no other choice but to continue.