The Fourth Sage (The Circularity Saga) (21 page)

"What makes you think that?"

"The way she looked at me, and she repeated something I couldn't understand."

"You never told me she said something."

"I completely forgot. She said 'Jie...' I can't even repeat it. Sounded like 'Jiedj vied, viedin. Jiedj viedchin,' or something like that."

"Jiedj Vidchkin," Sam replies. "She said, 'Jiedj Vidchkin.’" Aries is as perplexed as Sam is. "It means anomaly."

"Anomaly?" Aries asks. "Like in abnormal?"

"Anomaly, like something that is not normal, yes," Sam answers.

"That's not all it means," Ty adds. "It also means something that deviates from what is standard. Something unexpected."

"That's what she told me," Sam says. "She would put her hand on my forehead and she would whisper it, very quietly, into my ear."

"I must have been in the hospital the same year you were," Aries says. "I've had four re-co operations for my cleft and the fourth one... Does she have red hair?"

"
Yes,
" Sam replies. "Like fire!"

"I've seen her. I was six when I had my last surgery. I remember her face. What happened to her?"

"She went crazy in her head. At least that's what they said. She told everyone that children were disappearing from her station."

"What do you mean?" Aries asks.

"I heard a few things. She made open accusations that several older children had disappeared. And then she came here."

"To the prison?" Ty asks.

"Yes. But not as a nurse. She was convicted and was here for six months. It wasn't good for her. Not good at all. It's not a place for a... nice person. People aren't nice around here. And I'm a guard only on the official papers. Not when it comes to doing what guards do. I fix things but I don't do anything around the inmates.

"She was cleaning in a room one day and I happened to be there. She recognized me right away. She came over to me but I... I couldn't help her, couldn't do anything for her... Even though she had helped me, helped me so much. I was trying to tell my brothers that she was a good person and that she wasn't supposed to be here. But they said that she wouldn't be here if she wasn't supposed to be. I walked by her cell whenever I could but I never talked to her. We are not allowed to have any communication with the inmates, other than what is spelled out in the code. Then, one day, she was gone and I didn't see her anymore. Until I found her. Or maybe she found me, I'm not sure."

"Where?" Aries asks.

"Right below us. They call them the Forgotten Ones. They are forgotten. Forgotten by the rest, but not by me. No, sir. I won't forget them. I always think about them, always with them in here." Sam points at his heart with two fingers. "Always with them in here."

"You're not talking about the floors," Aries states.

"The children. Always thinking of them so that they are not forgotten. Always go when I can, when I have time. It's not much—"

"What did you say?" Ty gets up. "Did you say you visit them?"

"I did not say that. I never said anything like it."

"I understand, Sam," Ty says calmly. "We won't tell anyone. Your secret is safe with us."

"There are no secrets," Sam says, while shaking his head. "People talk all the time. They can make people talk even though they don't want to. They make them watch things. Things they don't want to see, never want to see again. They make them watch it over and over until people tell them everything..."

Ty and Aries exchange a glance.

"You don't have to tell us, Sam. It's okay."

For a moment, there is silence between them.

"There is a door. When I found it, all the way down where nobody ever goes, I couldn't open it at first. It was welded shut. Sealed a long, long time ago. I just stood there trying to think of a way to open it. That's when I heard it. Like scratching. And then there were voices. So I knocked. Once. I knocked once and then I heard a knock from the other side.

"It took me a week to open the door. I couldn't be there for long every day. Didn't want to raise suspicion. And when it opened, when it finally opened, I saw them. There were about two dozen of them. And then I saw Ms. Abernethy. I didn't recognize her at first. That's how... Her hair was much longer and it was dirty and her face was dirty and her clothes...

"And then she held me in her arms, Ms. Abernethy did. She just held me and then the children held me too. It was the nicest thing anybody has ever done to me. I told them that I needed to go but that I would come back to them whenever I could. Some of the children cried and I couldn't help it and cried too, and when I left that day I was happier than I have ever been before. Because I knew they wouldn't be forgotten now, wouldn't be forgotten anymore, not as long as I lived."

Aries’s tears fall on her hands without her noticing at first. They come, drawn out by Sam's recounting of events.

"When did you first meet them?" Ty asks.

"About two years ago."

"Two years? How can they survive that long?" Aries asks.

"The Corporation gives them what they need. Basic food. Water. To keep them alive. In case... In case they want to... use them again. That's what Ms. Abernethy said."

"Can you lead us to them?" Aries asks.

Sam looks at her for a long time. "You're here to help them?"

"I... I don't know. I don't know how."

"You're like us."

"What do you mean?"

"You're like us. Jiedj Vidchkin. Anomaly."

Aries doesn't know how to react at first. She’s always known that she doesn't fit in but she never realized exactly how much she felt like an outsider, belonging to no one, not to any group, or people, or any place at all. Since her parents died, she’s floated without settling down or feeling at home anywhere. Ty has been the closest she’s had to any kind of family. But up until now, even he has been a temporary patch over a wound that’s still not even close to being healed. She has not yet met the children, has not spoken to them or stood in their midst, but part of her feels as if Sam has introduced her to her family.

"I don't know what I can give them. How I can... help them."

"I will take you," Sam says. "I will take you to them. But I want something... I was wondering... I was thinking..."

"Sam," Aries say. "It's okay. You’re among friends. Speak your mind."

Sam looks at her, then at Ty, and back to her.

"I want you to take me. Take me with you."

"Are you sure?" Ty asks. "Are you sure you want to lea—?”

"Yes," Sam interrupts him.

"What about your brothers?" Aries asks.

"They will be glad that I'm gone."

"They'll look for you. They'll know you've disappeared," Ty says.

"No. They won't. They won't look for me. I've made... preparations."

"What do you mean? What kind of preparations?" Aries asks.

"To go away. To leave."

"But how? Where would you go?"

Sam looks at her for a while.

"There is a cremation chamber. I will leave some of my things outside. They will think that I... that I—"

"—that you killed yourself?" Aries finishes.

"Yes."

"Why would you...? Have you been thinking about killing yourself?" she asks.

Sam's face shows his struggle. "There are times. At night, mostly. Times when I think that I can't be here anymore, can't... live anymore. So I wrote a note. For them. So they'd understand."

Aries can sense the depth of Sam's suffering. But she can feel his love, also—the love of this gentle giant for all creatures, large and small, and especially for the ones who need it most.

"It would be my honor if you would come with us, Samuel Eikenboom," she says.

"The honor is mine," Sam replies, and stands. "Come with me," he says, and opens the door to the hallway. "I'll show you the way."

Chapter 12 — The Forgotten

"When destiny knocks on your door, will you open it? Or will you bolt it shut,

shivering in trepidation?"

[
The Book of Croix
— Vol.11]

For the last hour, Sam has led them through narrow passageways and a seemingly endless labyrinth of ladders and walkways. Slowly but surely they have made their way deeper and deeper into the belly of the prison. And the deeper they go, the more Aries can sense the weight of the building above her. It is as if it pushes down on her, slowing her steps, adding strain to her already tortured muscles and joints. But it doesn’t only affect her body. The thought of meeting the children initially filled her with hope. But while she’s had time to think about it further, she can't escape the notion that it won’t change anything in the end. They would still be trapped with no way out. Hers, Ty's, Sam's, and the other children's situations would most likely not change. How could they?

Sam gestures at them to be quiet. He listens intently into the silence. Then they continue until they come to a large storage room. It’s filled with old metal bedframes piled into one corner, long since abandoned refrigeration units and lockers. One wall holds individual boxes of equal size and shape. Half of them are stacked against the wall, the other half have fallen down and lie scattered on the floor. Some of them are open, their contents spilled out carelessly.

"What are those?" Aries asks in passing.

"The boxes belonged to inmates who died in here," Sam says.

Aries sees a few yellowed and faded cards and photographs, a small doll that must have been crafted by a child, and several pieces of paper. She kneels in front of one of the boxes and picks up what looks like a letter. It's written in a language Aries doesn't understand.

"This must've been written long before the gentrification," Ty says, as he looks at the letter.

"How old do you think these are?"

"Some of them must be over fifty years old."

She looks at the box in front of her and from it to the wall of boxes. There are easily five hundred of them stacked against the wall and about the same number lying on the ground. "Somebody must have gone through them," she says.

Sam nods, then casts his eyes down.

"Don't be ashamed," Aries says. "You didn't do this."

"Their fates are all connected," he says.

"What do you mean?" Aries asks. But when she looks at him, she can see why he can't stay here, why Sam would want to leave this place.

"Most of the prisoners here haven't really done anything wrong, other than... question things, question the powers. There are a few that have done serious crimes. Murderers, rapists. But those usually get executed within two days. The ones that stay here..."

Sam's words trail off. Aries lays the letter back onto the pile. Her eyes meet Ty's.

"It's not far now." Sam gestures for them to follow. Aries gets up and lets Ty walk in front of her. She casts one more glance at the open boxes.
So many lives lost,
she thinks, shuddering at the thought of having to die alone in a cell, with no one to speak to or to comfort you during your final hours.

They reach the corner of the storage room. Sam kneels and opens a trapdoor. "The ladder goes straight down, two floors. Wait for me at the bottom," he says, as Aries and Ty climb into the shaft. At the bottom, and on all fours, they make their way through a vertical shaft until they come to a door. The black markings around it show that someone has used a metal cutter. The door, nothing more than a thick metal plate, leans against the opening. Sam lifts it and, visibly under enormous strain, moves it to the side.

Aries is the first through the opening. Next come Ty and Sam. When they are through, Sam moves the heavy door back, to close the gaping hole in the wall as much as possible.

"This way," he says, and sets off down the darkened hallway. After a few turns, they come to a long corridor. At its end, a few flickering lights cast their shadows on the walls and ceiling. Sam sees her first and stops. Only a silhouette against the dim light, Born-of-Night flies into the corridor and toward them. Sam moves backward.

"Don't be afraid," Aries says. "She will not harm you." As the hawk flies toward them, a few children appear at the end of the hallway. Aries stretches out her forearm and Born-of-Night lands on it. The pain reminds Aries how strong the hawk has become.

There is plenty of food down here.
Aries receives an image of a dozen rats fleeing from the hawk’s sharp claws.

Two of the children run toward them. When they arrive, one of them—no older than twelve, maybe thirteen—takes Aries's hand. "My name is Mila. We have been waiting for you." The other, a boy of about ten, takes Ty's hand. "We're here to bring you to Mrs. Abernethy," he says. "If you would please follow us." With that, the boy leads the way toward the end of the corridor.

I'm glad to see you,
Aries thinks to Born-of-Night.

I'm glad as well,
the hawk replies in her thoughts.
You found a friend?