Beyond Eternity Read online

  I blinked and looked back at Katrina. "I just can't do it. There has to be another way."

  Her body became tense with scorn. "Fine. This is the last time you'll shun my charity."

  "Katrina, please—"

  "No. We could have had so much fun together, but that's not an option now. There are other ways you can learn to respect me."

  "Katrina—"

  "Get out of my sight." She turned her back to me.

  I wanted to say something but knew it would only further enrage her, so I reached for the door and let myself out of Katrina's room. I walked across the living room and rested my hand on the door to the audience chamber. Maybe I could go back and talk things through with Katrina. If I could only explain myself, then she would understand why I couldn't murder her father. On second thought, how would one even try to reason with someone who thinks it's acceptable to kill their parents? My head sank and I pulled the door open, letting it click shut behind me. When I looked up, Erlik was standing in front of me. Over a dozen Harmony Guards had me surrounded. I reached back for the door handle, but it was locked.

  Erlik said, "There's no escape for you this time." His nose brace was gone, and he wore a twisted smile on his face.

  All of his thugs rushed me at once. I latched onto the first one that reached me and drove my knee into his groin. He squealed, but the rest of them piled on me. I punched and elbowed where I could, but their combined weight was overwhelming. The mob pinned me down and yanked my arms behind my back. With my arms and legs immobilized, the Harmony Guards lifted me up to face Erlik.

  He walked up to me and said, "What did I tell you? It was only a matter of time before my sister cast you aside. Now you're mine." He slugged me in the abdomen, and even with my muscles tightened, it knocked the wind out of me. I could barely breathe. Maybe I could transition out of there, to my bedroom, the workshop, anywhere but here. He punched me again, even harder than the first blow. All I could focus on was the pain. I tried to jerk away from his thugs, but barely moved.

  Erlik laughed and said, "You're going nowhere." He was about to strike me again, and I quickly whispered something inaudible. Erlik relaxed his fist and said, "What was that? If you beg me, I may go easy on you."

  My lips moved, but no real words escaped my mouth. With a limp neck, my head was laying on the shoulder of the man behind me. Gloating, Erlik leaned in close, trying to hear what I was saying. He rested his hands on my shoulders and said, "Beg me for mercy."

  I jerked my head forward with every ounce of strength I could muster. My forehead hit Erlik square in the nose, and he stumbled backwards with blood gushing from his face. I would lose this fight, but stole a small victory. With one hand on his nose, Erlik drew his electrified baton and cracked me in the head.

  Chapter 10

  Some days it just didn't pay to get out of bed. I could have been bundled up with a cuddly girl, but instead I was being hauled down a hallway by some knuckle draggers. What I would have given for a mulligan on this one. My head was throbbing, and there was a knot forming where Erlik had smacked me with his baton.

  Tall lockers lined the walls, and the Harmony Guards unceremoniously dropped me at the base of one. My head spun, and I barely resisted when they stripped my coveralls and boots off. They tossed my garments on top of a locker, next to another pile of clothes. The guards activated a lock and swung open one of the locker doors. There was nothing but a tin can inside.

  The Harmony Guards stood me up, and the concrete floor made my bare feet cold. They shoved me in and I stumbled over the can. I picked it up and said, "What's this for?"

  "You'll figure it out."

  They slammed the door shut, and it was dark aside from slivers of light entering at the top and bottom of the door, where small panels could be slid to the side for guards to look in. My cage was slightly taller than me and just a little wider than my shoulders. The metal walls were cool to the touch. Speakers set in the ceiling began playing the most irritating soundtrack. It started off with gears grinding in a high pitch squeal like nails on a chalkboard. Later, it transitioned to babies wailing, table saws ripping through wood, men screaming from torture, and other equally pleasant sounds.

  I sat down and covered my ears, trying to block out the noise. The Psionic Resonator was resting against my cheek. They may have taken my clothes, but the key to my fate was wrapped around my wrist. I just needed to focus. Where would I be safe? Maybe I could transition back to my room. It had clean clothes and another pair of boots. My feet were so cold.

  Damn it, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't concentrate. My thoughts kept bouncing between my feet, the throbbing in my skull, and that racket blasting from the speakers. I stood up and punched the ceiling, but the noise continued to taunt me.

  I pushed against the door and the walls, searching for some weakness that could be exploited to escape, but nothing felt promising. I sat back down with my knees against my chest and fondled the tin can. What was the point of putting a can in here with me? Maybe I could bend and shape it into a tool, but the flimsy metal wouldn't be much use against steel walls.

  With my head resting on my knees, I felt subtle pulsing vibrations emanating from the floor. There were footsteps in the hallway that suddenly stopped, and I saw the panel at the top of the door slide open. Moments later, the panel at the bottom slid open as well. A Harmony Guard yelled, "No sitting in the box." He shoved his baton in the opening and sent a jolt of electricity through my leg. I shot to my feet, and he met my gaze through the narrow opening at the top. He closed both of the hatches, and pressing my ear against the door, I could barely hear the sound of the guard walking away. I sat back down in my only possible protest against their rules. I was fairly confident that I could discern a guard's movement the next time they came to check on me and stand up before they looked in.

  There was a brief pause from the tormenting noises, and the speakers played the same bell notes that were broadcast in the cafeteria before Rexxor's announcement. A soothing male voice followed: "The Family loves you. Regardless of your deviation from righteousness, it is never too late to accept the Family's plan for you. Abandon your transgressions and join your Brothers and Sisters in the good graces of the Family. You must only do your fair share to attain the happiness that awaits. Father knows best."

  After a few moments of silence, the speakers continued the soundtrack of misery. The current selection was a man sobbing and apologizing profusely, just before being stabbed with hot pokers. The sound of sizzling flesh combined with his cries made my stomach turn. Was this what assimilation and reeducation meant? The Family was trying to convince me that it was less painful to be a good little boy than it was to contradict them.

  I tried to ignore the sounds by covering my ears and focusing on the numbness in my toes. There were vibrations in the floor, and I jumped to my feet just before a guard opened the top panel to check on me. He slid the hatch shut and walked away. My stomach growled with the first pangs of hunger.

  How long had I been in the box? So far, there was no pattern in the soundtrack of misery, as none of the tunes had repeated. It felt like more than an hour, but probably less than two or three. There really wasn't a good way to gauge the passage of time. I began counting seconds, but would often lose track before I made it to ten minutes. Frustrated, I quit trying to count and began bouncing off the walls. I leaned to the left, forward, right, back, then side-to-side a few times. I did whatever I could to break up the monotony.

  I really wished Edgar hadn't rushed me out of my room that morning. Among other things, I didn't get the chance to relieve myself and the pressure was mounting in my bladder. Was that what the tin can was for? It made sense. The opening on the bottom of the door was just the right size to slide it through. But if I did go in the can, there was no telling when someone would come by to change it out. More likely, they would just leave it in here so I'd forced to smell it. I was determined to hold off as long as possible.

  I sat for qu
ite a while, then stood up when my joints started to feel stiff. I marched in place trying to loosen my legs and warm up my feet. Someone was approaching, so I froze in place. The top panel slid open and the light from the hallway was blinding. Then I saw Erlik looking at me. He had a new nose brace, and his face looked even worse than the first time I broke his nose. He said, "Enjoying yourself?"

  "It's a little smaller than the room in the brochure, but the entertainment system more than makes up for it."

  "Look, smartass, you're going to rot in there."

  "Are you sure about that? I booked three days and four nights, but I think I'll check out early."

  "How are you planning on doing that?"

  "I'm going to slip right out from under your nose. Oh, is that a sore subject?"

  Erlik was clearly enraged and stammered, "I—I'm going to drag you out of there and teach you some respect."

  "I bet you won't."

  Erlik roared and punched the door. It looked like his head was about to explode. He hesitated for a few moments, then slammed the top hatch shut. Erlik hit the door three more times, then stormed off.

  Honestly, I was surprised he didn't take the bait. Teleporting out of the box definitely wasn't an option at the moment, but I would have given myself even odds to win a fight against him one-on-one if he didn't have his thugs with him. Too bad I didn't leave a deposit in the tin can earlier. Sharing it with him could have pushed him over the edge.

  For the next hour or so, I wavered between using the can and holding off. I wondered if this was how livestock felt; all cooped up and forced to piss where they lived. If the Family's goal was to dehumanize you during reeducation, they had found an effective way to do it. Finally, my bladder won the argument. I couldn't readily see inside the can, and hoped it wouldn't overflow as the pitch climbed higher while I filled the vessel. Much relieved, I set the can in the corner. Already, I wished there was something I could use as a lid. The smell of ammonia quickly filled the confined space. Trying to ignore the odor, I went back to bouncing off the walls, careful not to bump the can.

  Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long before another guard came to check on me. He slid the top hatch open and I said, "Hi, what's your name?" He look bewildered and began closing the panel.

  "What's the harm in telling me your name?" I asked.

  The Harmony Guard was younger than many of the others I'd seen, and nervously whispered, "I'm not supposed to talk to you."

  "I don't blame you. It doesn't take much to set Erlik off, and I'm sure you don't want him breathing down your neck."

  He reopened the hatch and said, "My name is Sam."

  "Nice to meet you Sam. Say, would you mind emptying my can for me?"

  "Um—"

  "Please, do me this one favor and I won't give you any trouble. If you hurry, Erlik will never find out."

  Sam closed the top hatch. I wasn't sure if he would help me, but a few minutes later, he slid open the bottom panel. I placed the tin can near the opening and Sam collected it, replacing it with one filled with clean water. Although thirsty, I only took a few small sips. I had to stay hydrated, but wasn't eager to use my can again for its intended purpose. The next guard to check on me wasn't likely to be as benevolent as Sam.

  Sometimes all you can do is cherish the little things. My head hurt and the speakers were still playing the soundtrack of misery, but I had fresh water and the smell in the box began to dissipate. It's often surprising how far you can get by simply asking someone nicely. Maybe the Family had a lapse in judgement when they selected Sam to be a Harmony Guard. He looked the part, but didn't fit the brutish stereotype. It just reinforced for me the fact that you have to judge people by their character and not their appearance.

  Time slowly crept by. I was grateful to have water, but I was becoming increasingly aware of my growing hunger. They say you can go three weeks without food, but I wasn't keen to test that theory. I've gone the better part of a week a couple times, and your body loses the capacity for high-intensity work after a day or two without consuming some calories. The longer I stayed in this cage, the slimmer my chances were of breaking out. The next time I saw Sam, I would try asking for something to eat.

  ---

  I wondered if it was day or night. Harmony Guards checked on me periodically and the soundtrack of misery was occasionally interrupted by the calm male voice persuading me to embrace the Family's plan, but there wasn't a good way to keep track of time. I found myself longing to hear his propaganda simply for the few moments free from the abrasive sounds.

  Sitting on the hard floor of the box, I tried to get some sleep. Even with the cold and the speakers screeching at me, I managed to drift off just long enough for a guard to remind me that I wasn't allowed to sit. My legs continued to tingle after he departed, and I remained standing for a bit. Leaning against the back wall, I fell asleep again and managed a few more minutes of rest before my knees buckled underneath me.

  I slept in short spurts throughout what I assumed was the night, constantly disturbed by Harmony guards, startling noises coming from the speakers, and simple discomfort. It was never truly restful, and I would often wake up feeling more tired than before I slept. I ran my fingers over my chin, and the hairs on my face felt bristly. It was a safe guess that I had been in the box around a day or two.

  Erlik paid me another visit. I felt someone approaching and was on my feet by the time he slid the top hatch open. He looked smug and said, "I don't care what the recording says; there is no salvation for you. You are going to die like everyone else, alone and afraid in the dark. Before it's over, you'll be whimpering like a child, begging for your life."

  He closed the panel before I could respond. It was just as well that I remained silent. My mind felt slow, and even after he left, I couldn't think of a decent comeback. If I wanted Erlik to open the door, I would have to find another way to lure him than sharp words.

  For the first time, I considered that I might not make it out of this one. If I somehow managed to get out of my cage, I still had to navigate unfamiliar corridors that were probably swamped with Harmony Guards. My headache was slowly receding, but I was unable to teleport with the soundtrack of misery blasting in my ears.

  How was I supposed to save the world when I couldn't even find my way out of a box? I wondered if Erlik was right. Does everyone die alone and afraid in the dark? Was that how my mother felt in her final moments? If I couldn't be there for the one person who loved me the most in the world, maybe I deserved to rot in this cell.

  My mood continued to decline and I dismissed any thoughts of escape. Instead, I focused on the cold, and the hunger, and the fatigue. Maybe if I endured enough misery, I could wash away the guilt that was drowning me. I stopped caring if I lived or died.

  I thought about the last time I was with my mother. She had been lying in the hospital bed. Her short grey hair and shrunken face hardly resembled the energetic woman I had known all my life. The previous night had been the toughest yet. Her heart was racing over one-hundred and sixty beats per minute, and she could only manage rapid, shallow breaths with pure oxygen blowing in her nose. All I could do was hold her hand and slip small ice cubes into her mouth to chew on. Mom had quit eating food days earlier, but still craved the bits of ice to cool her throat and give temporary relief to the dryness that never seemed to go away.

  This image of my mom suffering was more than I could bear. All of the grief that I kept carefully bottled up inside me finally broke free. I began sobbing uncontrollably until my cries overpowered the soundtrack of misery, and I lost all self-control to unbridled emotion.

  After a few minutes rampaging in my box, I held my breath and had a moment of sudden calm. I was empty and felt nothing. Slowly, a long forgotten memory filled my mind. My mom was a vibrant, youthful woman with flowing brown hair, and I was a small boy who was scared of the dark. Every shadow concealed monsters, just waiting for me to let my guard down. My brother was away at camp, and this was the first
time I had the bedroom to myself. Mom sang to me in her sweet soprano voice. It always amazed me how much sound could come out of such a petite woman. My fear was quickly replaced by a sense of comfort and security.

  She explained that there was nothing in the shadows other than what my imagination put there, and if there was something I didn't like, I had complete control to change it. The same was true for my dreams. I wasn't merely a spectator when I was asleep. If my subconscious took me somewhere I didn't want to go, I could change the course of my awareness at any time.

  Mom ran her fingers through my hair and continued to soothe me until I was almost asleep. She left the room, and my thoughts had quickly returned to the monsters in the shadows. I realized that they couldn't hurt me if I was somewhere else, and imagined being sucked into a portal and out of reach of the nasty little creatures. It felt like I was flying through a tunnel. A cascade of colors formed translucent walls which kept the vast emptiness beyond at bay.

  Dreams where I could fly had always been my favorites. The weightlessness of flight soon gave way to a slight sinking feeling, and I landed on a hard surface, in a place completely devoid of light. I could feel fear returning, then dim candlelight pierced the darkness. A little girl with fiery red hair came crawling through a tunnel. She carried a candle in a simple brass holder. The girl smiled at me, and I knew I was safe.

  I suddenly realized why Hazel looked so familiar the first time I saw her outside the audience chamber. I had visited her every night while my brother was away at camp. In that short time, we had developed a bond that I've never known outside of my immediate family. She was someone that I came to trust completely.