Immortal (4 page)

As she ran through the narrow streets of the
village, she ignored the few passers by. Gabrielle was careful not
to talk to anyone that she didn’t recognize. But she was even more
careful not to run into anyone and knock them to the ground. She
was all too aware what the punishment for hurting another could be.
Death. And not a quick silent death, a horrid public display. To be
carried out in the square, of course, for all to see. It didn’t
happen often, but it did happen. She thought about the story that
had been passed down over the years about the man who had thought
that he had the plague. He had run through the streets and stabbed
several people with a homemade knife. When they caught him, the
story went that he had been controlled, and the very next day his
punishment had begun. A Guardian had slowly, patiently, and
systematically disemboweled him at the center of the village square
over the course of two days. And at last, near the end of the
second day, he had screamed his last breath and could hurt no one
else. She shuddered at the thought of such a painful death, and
hoped beyond all hopes that Jericho would be released without any
punishment. Deep in thought she almost ran into a young man as he
stepped in front of her.

“Excuse me.” He said, as he hurried past her.
“Curfew, you know.” She glanced back at him, and quickly lost him
as he rounded the corner between buildings. She thought how
everyone looked the same. How everyone wore the same thing, the
same drab color. Even the stone buildings were made of the same
dull hue. But Jericho had changed that. He had taught her that
there was color in the world. So much more color than she had ever
seen before.

The way to Gabrielle’s building took her
right past her assigned mealtime building. Already, those that
worked the dark shift were in line for their early meal. She wished
that she had not skipped her evening meal. Her stomach was already
knotted with worry, and not having eaten just made it that much
worse. But there was no way she could enter now. It was not her
assigned time, and she had to make it home before curfew. But as
she passed the multiple lines that led inside the building, she
waved to those that she knew, and smiled as if everything was okay.
At the front of each of those lines was a scanner, much like the
ones at the factory that were used to detect the plague. As she
passed the building she rounded the next corner, and now she was
only a block away from her building. She thought that she might
make it in time after all as she picked up her pace. She was almost
out of earshot of the mealtime building when she heard a commotion
behind her.

“Be calm.” A mechanical voice said. “The
plague has been isolated. You are in no danger.” She closed her
eyes briefly as she continued to walk briskly. She did not turn
back to see who had been diagnosed with the plague. At this moment,
she didn’t want to even know. As she opened her eyes and continued
her journey, sadness melted over her face. She began to run, not
because she was afraid of being late any longer, or even because of
the announcement about the plague. She ran to distance herself from
everything. She had begun to hate her existence here in the
village, and deep down had begun to dream of a better life. There
had to be something more than this, but what it could be, she had
no idea.

That was why Jericho meant so much to her. He
could show her the new, the wonderful, the amazing, and the
beautiful things about what they had here in the village, and she
loved him for that. Her mind raced back to the glorious colors of
the sunrise this very morning. She could once again feel the wind
in her hair. She could smell the air of the beach. She could feel
the sand between her toes, and the softness of his tender kiss. His
hands on her. Those memories brought butterflies to her stomach and
warmth into her heart. That one moment could summarize all that was
between Jericho and herself. All that would ever be. The thought of
losing him was more than she could bear to think about, and knew
deep in her heart that she could never survive a life without
him.

She entered the stairway to her building and
ran up the stairs as if she floated on air. She smiled slightly as
she wondered at how the very thought of her love for Jericho could
make her feel so wonderful and light. She felt so alive and
energetic. Occasionally she passed others in the stairwell, as each
hurried either to their mealtime, or like her, to their compartment
to make curfew. She stepped aside in the narrow space as they
passed. And before she knew it, she rounded the platform to the
eighth floor, and entered the hallway that led to her compartment.
She ran to her door, and began to access the key unlock system
beside the door. She was nervous about the time, and she could see
the Guardian at the end of the hallway, as it slowly and
methodically moved towards her. At curfew she knew that the
Guardians were always out in force. They patrolled the streets, the
buildings, and the meal areas, to ensure obedience. She had trouble
with the last locking mechanism, and as the Guardian continued to
approach, she could clearly see the control stick in its hand. The
gleaming tip picked up bits of ambient light from the dimly lit
hallway, and it seemed to almost be on fire. She continued to
struggle with the lock, as her breath quickened, even as the
Guardian stepped up behind her.

Black. Cold. Silence. Nothingness. There was
no sound, and nothing to hear. Not even the beat of his own heart.
No breath to feel. But maybe there was no longer a need to breathe,
the thought whispered past. The dead don’t breathe, do they?
Nothing. No feeling. Just a total immersion in nothingness. No
sense of being, or even of life. But a sense of loss. And an
overwhelming sadness. To have lived such a short time in the grand
scheme of things, it seemed so unfair to die now. No. Not to die
now. But to have already died. To already be dead, and to now think
back to what life had been like. To think of…

“Gabrielle.” Jericho whispered through his
dry cracked lips. His eyelids fluttered. Maybe he wasn’t dead after
all he thought, and at once realized, if he could still think, then
he most likely was not dead. But as he began to awaken, he wished
that he could still not feel anything, because as his mind began to
sharpen, the pain began to come. Wave after wave began to run
through him, over him, as it coursed through his very veins, like a
rage of fire that would not stop. He gritted his teeth as it rose
into a crescendo that threatened to take his consciousness away
from him again. No, he thought. Not yet. Not again. Awake. Stay
awake, he thought, as he fought the squall in his body.

Where was he? He thought, as he fought back
the ebbing tide of pain, still unable to determine where it came
from. It seemed to emanate from within, from everywhere, but now
gradually he could feel it cross its peak, and slowly it began to
subside. As it eased slowly, it became manageable, down to the
level of excruciation as opposed to that of certain death. He
slowly opened his eyes. Dark, he thought. Total darkness. Or was he
now blind? Could that be it? Not dead, but blinded?

Once again the control stick touched Jericho
on his side, and sent an instant wave of agony throughout his body
and a wave of nausea through his stomach. He screamed as he had
over and over again in the last two hours as he had been
interrogated. He remembered it all too well now, as his body
tightened every muscle in response to the electric pulse. His back
arched to the point that he thought his spine would break, before
the current finally stopped. He remembered now, how earlier he had
wished that the control stick was set to a higher power, at least
that way he would pass out and not have to endure the pain.
Evidently his tormentor had done so, hence, why he had been
unconscious.

“Admit your disobedience.” The voice of a
Guardian said from somewhere in the dark. It was unemotional,
unfeeling, unprovoked, and unrushed. It was patient. It waited. It
came again. “Admit your disobedience.”

“I’ve already told you.” Jericho said weakly,
as he breathed quite hard now. He could feel and hear his heart
beat now, as it thrummed loudly throughout his head that ached as
much as his muscles.

“You have not admitted your disobedience. To
not obey is against the rule. The rule is law. Disobedience must be
punished.” Silence. Darkness. No sense of movement.

As the pain began to subside from the latest
touch from the control stick, his breathing began to return to
normal, and the ache in his head seemed to relax a bit. He opened
his eyes wider now, and realized there was the tiniest bit of
ambient light in the room. Not much, but just a little, which as
his eyes focused, allowed him to see the dark form of the Guardian
as it stood directly in front of him. Its control stick was
extended and was now just inches from his chest. He could not feel
his arms but he knew they were there, shackled behind him in the
chair where he now sat. He could not feel them, because the
circulation was cut off from the way that he was positioned. Only
occasional waves of a tingling sensation came from that area, as he
carefully shifted his position to ease the pain in his back. How
long had he been here, he thought?

“Look, I didn’t want to cause any-”

“Silence.” The Guardian said in its monotone
mechanical voice. Jericho shut up. Seconds passed, and Jericho felt
the Guardian move and braced himself for yet another touch from the
control stick. He shut his eyes, clamped his jaws, and tightened
his back. But nothing came. Nothing. Darkness. Silence. He relaxed
a bit and opened his eyes again. The dark shadowy form of the
Guardian appeared to be in the same position. It had not moved. He
thought his eyes must have played tricks on him in the dim barely
noticeable light. He looked around in the darkness this time, but
could not make out the size of the room, or any features
whatsoever. Just the shadow of the Guardian as it stood before him.
Suddenly there was an explosion of brightness. He quickly shut his
eyes, but was too late to stop the searing light that now burned
his eyes, and blinded him. Even with his eyes tightly shut, he
could tell the room was ablaze in light. As the seconds ticked by,
he thought maybe he might be able to squint just a bit, and get a
look at the room he was in, and just as he had decided to attempt
it, he was submersed in total darkness again.

“Admit your disobedience.” The Guardian said
once more. Flat. To the point. And then, silence. Stillness.
Darkness. He opened his eyes again, still blinded by the brightness
from before, but the pain had stopped. He sat there in the dark,
surrounded by total silence, though he knew the Guardian was just
inches away, with its control stick extended, and yet nothing
happened. It seemed to last forever. The nothingness. The silence.
The waiting. As his vision slowly became acclimated to the darkness
again as the minutes passed, he strained to hear even tiniest sound
within the room. To see if he might be able to hear any motion from
the Guardian that would at least warn him of movement. There was
nothing but silence. Total and complete silence. He thought of
Gabrielle, and hoped with all his might that he would see her
again. That he would live through this agonizing torment. That the
Guardians would realize that it was Donovan that had caused the
problem. That it had been Donovan’s fault. That they would let him
go, and he could go back to Gabrielle. That he could see her again.
See her smile. Hear her laugh. Touch her once again. He turned
inside himself in the darkness and remembered the sight of the
dawning sun, and her face, and her reaction to that amazing beauty.
The way she had moved, and had smiled. The way she had smelled. Her
laugh, and the breeze in her hair. The way the sun had begun to
light up her face. It had been paradise. Paradise shared. Paradise
loved. And he knew how he loved her. Her every move. Her every
word. So moved was he, that a single tear leaked beyond his eye,
and trailed slowly down the side of his cheek.

Though he could not see it, it glistened ever
so slightly in the muted dim light of the darkened room. And though
he could not tell, the Guardian still stood motionless in front of
him, and silently observed this. No reaction. No movement. Just
observation. The optical lenses behind those unmoving eyes
registered the movement of the tear, and traced its path with
pinpoint accuracy to a level of definition so finite as to be
incomprehensible to the people the Guardian looked after. Though
the Guardian could see quite well in the darkened room, and it
could detect changes from the bit of ambient light in the room as
they shimmered off of the tear’s surface, it only registered the
tear’s current and changing shape. As the electrons processed the
image, and relayed it to the processing unit of the Guardian, there
was no change in the observation. It did not feel good, nor bad, as
it followed the trajectory of the tear. It did not attempt to
anticipate what its future path would be as it continued to move,
nor did it have concern over its meaning. It simply and truly
observed. Internally the components that made up the processing
unit began to push more atomic bits of electrons as they carried
information, all loaded with the data that referenced the tear. The
data went through the processing unit, and then to the transceiver
circuit, where the data was sent someplace. Someplace that the
Guardian had never been, and would never go, and would never be
able to acknowledge. Someplace that the Guardian did not even know
existed, and even if it was somehow able to follow this data trail,
it was incapable of feeling concern over this unknown transmission.
This transmission of information to an unknown place. This some
place. Someplace else.