Chapter 14

The last thing he wanted was to draw the others’ attention. He was glad he had been given a larger helmet, so his forehead and half his eyes were shadowed from view. He pulled the collar of the coarse miner’s uniform he was wearing a bit higher, to hide his face. His worries, however, had proved in vain so far. The hard work in the mines left little time for workers to chat up others, or even look around.

He knew from Lucas that someone was going to wait outside for him every Tuesday. He had used the time so far to explore the galleries, each time going a bit further. Trying to read the small map at the small flicker generated by the flashlight on his helmet had proved tedious. And it was a different thing to make up a sense of how long the galleries were supposed to be, and where the map was actually starting.

There were no free days for miners, unlike there were for others. A small detail Cory noticed was that everyone seemed a bit older than the rest of the men toiling over their machineries in the factories located outside of Drena. They seemed to be made of harder stuff, too, and they had to be to make sure that they could survive working inside the mines. The night shift was supposed to be the worst, but Cory found quickly that night and day didn’t have any meaning down there, in the pits. Keeping track of time was getting more and more difficult.

“Hey, you,” he heard someone calling behind him. “It’s dangerous to go that way. Come back.”

He turned and moved back. No point in pursuing his explorations for now. The man who called for him turned and left, before he could reach him. He turned again to look at the gallery left behind and then he noticed. There was a small fading light at the end of the corridor. He hesitated for a moment. At any point, he could get lost if he was to continuously roam the convoluted labyrinth. But curiosity got the better of him. Taking a last look to see if anyone else was still around, he sped his pace while heading for the small light.

It was strange. It didn’t look like there was a clear source of the light, and now it was fading more and more. He hurried, trying to catch it, feeling somewhere deep inside his gut that it was important to track the light now weeping on the walls, leaving nothing but the deepest darkness behind.

He took one corner, then another. An eerie silence was falling, surrounding him with its embrace. It felt colder, too. And, suddenly, it was all darkness. It felt as temperature was going down fast and he felt panic assaulting him in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to run, but his feet were like lead; his breathing became ragged, his lungs striving for air. He could feel small crystals of ice forming on his eyelids. Soon, it became harder even to blink.

He fell to his knees, his hands searching for something, anything he could hold on to. Was he going to die there? He thought of Lucas, of his warm embrace, and collapsed.

~A Good Servant~ He groaned, moving in his sleep. His eyes opened slowly, with difficulty, and he had to close them back fast. There was too much light. As he was waking up, he realized one thing. He was no longer cold. He opened his eyes again, blinking often, to adjust. The source of the light was right in front of his eyes; there, inside the wall, there was a square room encased in the solid ground. He rose to his feet and came closer. The room itself was not the source of the incandescent light; inside the room, floating in the air, there was someone.

Frightened, Cory took a step back. His eyes were now starting to adapt, and the light no longer seemed so bothersome.

He looked again. There was no doubt; the one dwelling inside the strange casing was a woman. He had seen too few of them to know exactly how they looked like, but he could tell.

Stunned, he took in the image in front of him. The woman seemed soundly asleep, her eyes closed, with a serene expression on her face. She had long, golden hair, running to her bare feet, and she was very beautiful. The white garment she was wearing looked ethereal, as if it was made of waves and thin air. One of her hands was closed over her womb, as she was trying to protect it. The other was placed over her chest. Between her thin fingers, she held a delicate lily flower.

Cory felt a sudden sting. He grabbed his right shoulder, squeezing it, trying to ignore the pain. His brand was hurting like it was just now that the iron connected with his flesh. Soon enough, the pain subsided. The light grew dim, again. Cory hurried to touch the glass, but the casing was turning into the same gallery wall surrounding him from all sides. A final glimpse of the woman inside the strange room and it was over. Cory could swear he could see the hint of a small smile on the woman’s lips.

He searched with his hands for a crack in the earthy wall, but to no avail. The woman had disappeared.

He turned to face the corridor stretching in front of him. Suddenly, he knew where he was going. Steadily, he started walking. A strange, warm sensation was filling his chest. Everything was going to be all right.

~A Good Servant~ It was breaking dawn when he reached the surface. He breathed in the clean crisp air and almost felt like laughing. The white walls of Drena were standing tall in the distance. For a short moment, he imagined Lucas still there, and it felt unjust to be happy leaving his lover behind. Yet it felt so strange, so new and so amazing to realize that for his 22 years of life, he had never set foot outside of Drena, the Institution or the area that served only to supply the city with goods and labor force. It was like walking out of prison.

He watched around for any sign of a human being. It looked like he was alone. The sun was barely climbing over the horizon line. In front of him, the desert stretched, unyielding. By contrast, Drena was a geometrical wonder.

After what felt like hours, he finally saw the small black truck moving slowly in his direction. If that was not the person sent by Lucas, it could be the end for him. He steeled himself, waiting.

Finally, the truck stopped and a man who looked to be at least twice Cory’s age, came out. He moved with difficulty, most probably because of his generous belly, but he went straight towards Cory. The servant watched him, then he carefully took the L shaped sigil out of his boot. Without a word, he showed it to the man.

“Come,” the man gestured for him to follow.

The man fiddled with the doors at the back. He pointed out a long, dark box.

“In there,” he spoke, and Cory hesitated for a fraction of a second.

The man seemed to register his unease. “You don’t expect me to parade you riding next to me, do you?”

The servant no longer needed another encouragement. The man helped him get inside the box, and then unceremoniously started to drop what looked like piles of old books over him.

“Hey,” he said annoyed. “Are you trying to suffocate me?”

“No, just saving your sorry ass,” the man grunted as he threw another pile of books over him. “You have a hole to breathe, in that corner,” he pointed out. “Special book delivery is nothing conspicuous compared to taking a miner out of Drena, don’t you think?”

Cory remained silent. So the man thought he was a miner. As if he was reading thoughts, the man spoke again.

“Except that you’re not a miner, are you? The most beautiful slaves of Drena don’t seem to come close to you in importance,” he talked as if he was trying to make sense of things for him, more than for Cory. “Somehow you’re special,” he stopped to look at Cory’s face, covered for the most part in soot and dirt.

The servant felt his heart growing small. Was the man going to turn him in? If he was a wise man, that was most recommended. But the man shrugged and continued with his endeavor of covering Cory in books.

“Not my business. My business is to take you to Aeria and deliver you to your destination. This is what I got paid for. And Vacchiari is a man you can trust.”

Vacchiari, Cory registered. Maybe it was a good idea to remember that name.

He turned his head to one side and shielded his face, so his nose could be close to the hole in the box. When the man called Vacchiari closed the lid, he knew he was going to leave for real this time.

~A Good Servant~

“What do you have here, pops?” he heard some young men’s voices outside.

“Nothing, nothing, it’s nothing but books in the back,” he heard Vacchiari complaining.

“So, business got slow,” Cory heard a thumping sound, sign that someone was climbing in the back.

“You took everything from me last time, you dirty weasels,” Vacchiari spoke.

“Watch that mouth. You don’t want me to take that gold tooth from you.”

“What gold tooth?”

“Don’t play games with me, old man.”

Vacchiari seemed to have realized it was better to shut his mouth. The lid was open and then closed again. Cory didn’t even have time to panic.

“All right, it seems like you really have nothing. Just say thanks we won’t take you for ransom.”

“Who would pay for me?” Vacchiari’s voice whined.

“Exactly. Although...” the man seemed to ponder.

Cory strained to hear. The doors were closed again and the man seemed to have stopped just outside to talk some more to Vacchiari.

“Ayn still holds a grudge. He would love to beat the shit out of you.”

“Who’s Ayn?” Vacchiari questioned, visibly annoyed with the prospect of having an enemy he knew nothing about.

Ayn, Cory thought. Maybe that was just a coincidence and nothing more.

“Just someone you took like an animal and sold in the white city,” the man continued.

Cory could barely refrain the wish to jump out of his box and go to that man and ask him about Ayn. There could only be one Ayn.

“Don’t remember,” Vacchiari faked a sudden memory loss.

“Don’t worry, he does,” the man laughed.

Cory’s mind was in turmoil. He had to respect Lucas’s wish, though. And who was to say if this man who claimed to know Ayn was friend or foe? The fact that Vacchiari had been the one to sell Ayn to Xavier was not very settling, either. The man was nothing but a merchant, so his loyalties were dictated by nothing else but cold hard cash.

They moved again, and Cory thought if he had just missed his chance to meet Ayn again.

~A Good Servant~ The box was lifted by strong hands and carried outside the truck. Cory hoped he was now at his destination. His limbs had gone all numb and he could really use a bathroom. It was strange how he could think of such mundane things while he was basically on the run for his life. He had no doubts the Trainers could not be pleased with his escape.

Eventually, all movement stopped and he heard someone moving around, lifting the lid. Books were taken from the pile on top of his body.

“How to Behave in Polite Society, The 10 Most Common Rules of Baccarat,...” he heard someone reading random titles.

Was the guy for real? He was going to register each and every book, totally ignoring what lay below the pile? Or better said, who? Was he even where he was supposed to be? Without thinking further, he moved energetically, making books and broken pages fly around. He breathed deeply and looked at a man who seemed to be in his early 30s.

His so called host was looking at him amused through what looked like circles made of glass. Cory watched his face carefully. The strange contraption held on his nose was making him look older, but he could not be more than 27 or 28 years of age. He was very thin, wearing a tweed suit that had definitely seen better days, and his lips were twisting in amusement.

“Who are you?” Cory eventually managed.

“This is a question I should ask you, young man,” the host spoke pompously.

For some reason, Cory felt like laughing. Normally, he should have been mad or scared seeing that the man showed no signs of knowing who he was.

“I’m just joking,” the man waved and hurried to help Cory out of the box. “I’m Edgar, Lucas’s friend. Welcome to Aeria, Cory.”

~A Good Servant~ After a shower, a good meal and dressed in clean clothes, Cory felt as good as new. It felt so strange to be far away from home, and yet feel so comfortable. In Edgar’s home, there seemed to be nothing but books everywhere, but basic functionalities like chairs and tables were still provided.

He went to the window and looked outside. He withdrew right away.

“What’s wrong?” Edgar stopped from his reading.

“I’m not supposed to be seen, right?”

“Relax,” Edgar waved. “We’re all a bunch of mad scientists around. No one will notice you.”

“Really? No one?” Cory asked, visibly surprised.

“Well, you are really aesthetically pleasing, and that may have some of my lady friends talking. I will tell them you are someone I know from Bluesilver.”

“What’s Bluesilver?” Cory asked.

“A city state up north. Don’t worry. After the novelty will wear off, no one is going to pay you any attention. I hope you don’t feel affronted, do you?” Edgar asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Cory shrugged. “I am totally fine with that. But wouldn’t it be strange for me to appear like this, out of nowhere?”

“I won’t parade you everywhere. But I won’t hide you, either. That would be too conspicuous. Hiding things in plain view is the best strategy.”

“How come?” Cory sat on a chair and pressed his palms against his knees.

“I used to play all kinds of games with Lucas. It is just a rule we came up with for hide and seek.”

“Lucas played hide and seek?” Cory wished he could know Lucas from that age, when such games were normal.

“A special kind of hide and seek. It was more like treasure hunting, I think,” Edgar pondered. “All right, maybe a bit of disguising wouldn’t hurt ... Let’s see. Maybe make you wear a hat. Or glasses. Or both.”

“What are glasses?” Cory asked, feeling that his question might seem a bit dumb.

Edgar didn’t seem surprised with Cory’s question. He took the contraption off his nose and showed it to Cory. “These are.”

Cory took them and studied them. He tried to put them on, as he had seen Edgar doing, and he scrunched his nose.

“My eyes,” he complained as he took the glasses off. “Why do you force yourself to hurt your eyes?” he questioned.

Edgar laughed this time. “They help me see better. I heard from Lucas that everyone in Drena is perfect. So I assume no one needs glasses there. In my case, I would not be able to go from my bedroom to the bathroom without them. I’m as blind as a bat,” he joked, scratching one of his ears.

“Unfortunately, I won’t be able to wear them. I think I will end up smashing my head around.”

“I won’t give you mine. I’ll give you some fake ones. They will be nothing but ordinary glass. They won’t hurt your eyes.”

“Edgar, you know so many things,” Cory expressed his admiration.

Edgar coughed, a bit embarrassed. “That’s nothing. You just didn’t have the chance to see anyone with glasses in Drena. The Trainers are promising us all the other cities will be that way one day. Perfect.”

Cory shook, feeling a chill traveling down his spine. “I doubt Drena is perfect,” he murmured, and unconsciously grabbed his right shoulder.

Edgar smiled at him. “I doubt it, too. Plus, where would people like me and my friends be in that perfect world?”

There was a small exchange between them; they could understand each other. Cory felt his chest growing warmer.

“It’s ok if I look out the window?”

“Go ahead. Ah, just came with an idea. What color do you want your hair dyed? Do you want to change eye color, too? That’s a bit more difficult, but still doable. If we make a few changes, you will no longer be able to recognize yourself in the mirror.”

“I’m counting on that,” Cory spoke with a smile, and he went to the window.

The cobblestone street looked pretty animated at that hour. Men in high hats, walking in groups of two or three, were conversing vividly. Sometimes, women dressed in what looked like terribly convoluted outfits, with all kinds of ruffles and frills, were joining them. Cory could hear them laughing.

“The people here seem happy.”

“Aren’t people in Drena happy, as well? I heard from Lucas that it’s a permanent party down there. Everyone is beautiful and there is nothing people could wish for.”

“By people do you mean the Masters?” Cory asked, a genuine expression on his face.

Edgar coughed, a bit embarrassed. “I suppose ... I didn’t mean it to sound like...”

Cory came to his aid. “That’s no problem. I think this is how everyone looks at things anyway.”

“Not everyone,” Edgar seemed to ponder, while pushing his glasses back, a small habit Cory was starting to notice when the man was thinking whether he should speak or not. “Lucas sent you here. He didn’t tell me much ... but I gathered that you were ... his lover?”

Edgar’s cheeks seemed a little pink. Cory thought the small change in his demeanor was making him look younger.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “I hope so, I mean. What I want to say is...” he stopped for a brief second to find the right words, “it was more than sex. It still is.”

Edgar shook his head a little, like some nasty insects were bugging him. Cory read the situation right away.

“Are you ... embarrassed with this subject, Edgar?”

“What subject?” the man murmured, this time taking his glasses off to fiddle with them.

“You know ... sex.”

“Coitus,” Edgar spoke. “This is how it is called here. It is a scientific term,” he explained as Cory quirked an eyebrow questioningly.

“That sounds terrible,” the former servant spoke. “This is how people here refer to when ... you know...”

Somehow, Edgar’s embarrassment was transferring to him. He wished they weren’t having that conversation.

“Oh, no, we do not indulge in such acts here. It is strictly forbidden. And unnecessary,” Edgar almost shouted while raising his hands in defense.

Cory’s eyes grew wide. “But Lucas...”

“He left for Drena when he was really young. We used to question ourselves about it ... he told me on more than one occasion that he found the approach in Drena on the matter more natural, but in the same time more bothersome for some reason he didn’t care to elaborate. I didn’t press the matter, either,” Edgar put his glasses back on.

“And ... what do people do...”

“We have a special machine built to sublimate our inappropriate thoughts into more brain power,” Edgar answered promptly. “Too bad the machine seems to fry our brains, but that is not something you heard from me,” he continued.

Cory didn’t hide his shock. “You get killed for feeling sexual desire towards someone?”

“Yeah ... or in general. But it’s not a problem. Frankly, after the age of 35, one can barely come up with something new in mathematics or physics, so their utility ends anyway. I suppose it’s not a bad way to go, wrapped in a stimulus of ideas swarming in your brain.”

Something in Edgar’s voice sounded off; Cory was no fool to believe the lie the man was basically telling himself.

Cory looked towards the window, thinking of the men and women conversing in the street.

“Men and women, too?”

“Yes, every one. We have a very clear role that we need to comply with. Of course, if you manage to keep yourself away of any desire, you get to live longer.”

“Have you been using this sublimation machine a lot of times?” Cory inquired.

“A few times,” Edgar averted his eyes.

A strange sensation was creeping in, Cory could tell. “Is my presence here a problem?” he blurted out. Back in Drena, there had been quite a few men to express their sexual interest in him.

Edgar looked at him surprised. “Oh, no, Cory, no, please, do not misunderstand! Besides being Lucas’s lover, I am also not at all attracted by men. But,” he sighed, “there is a lady ... She’s called Lena. Her equations are so ... perfect,” he whispered. “I have to steer clear of her. Each time we met, we have such a wonderful time, completing each other’s research ... but, each time after that, I have to go use the machine, and it’s embarrassing and...”

Edgar shook his head gently. “She doesn’t understand why I do not seek her companionship. I would not dream of telling her that.”

Cory mumbled. “So sorry to hear that. But, if you are all here scientists, why don’t you perfect the machine? Or find another way?”

“The machine was sent here by the Trainers. We are not allowed to fiddle with it. And there are certain things even a mad scientist doesn’t touch.”