Chapter 22

“Should I ask what’s wrong?” Edgar’s voice broke the thread of his gloomy thoughts. “Besides the obvious,” the scientist added, with a tinge of humor.

“The obvious?” Cory turned toward his friend, with a small smile.

Maybe it was not too bad to get distracted for a bit.

“We’re planning to start a war we have no idea we can win, we have coyotes and who knows what other desert critters to worry about, and, on top of it all, Marcus just offered to become a mentor for me in matters of the flesh,” Edgar explained.

Cory half-giggled. Ah, how much he wished he could be carefree and truly laugh. But he had never been truly free, not until he had climbed Edgar’s strange contraption and flown over the desert to meet his destiny. Except for those moments of pure happiness he had lived in the arms of a man with beautiful green eyes and strong arms and a heart as big as a mountain. A man he had left behind. A man he could not know of, whether he was still...

He fought his own train of thought.

“Can you believe it, Edgar? Sometimes I don’t think I can recall his face. Was this the machine’s doing and only that? Sometimes I fear my memory is failing me. And my heart, too.”

Edgar placed a hand on his shoulders, squeezing in sympathy.

“Maybe I can be of help,” Edgar offered. “As someone who used that terrible machine more often than anyone on the entire continent, probably,” the young scientist added with a small, self-deprecating smile, “I believe that I can offer some assistance.”

“That would be great,” Cory sighed.

In the wee hours of the morning, this was what he hated most. The silence. It felt oppressive, not conducing to soothing meditation, but a gate to dark thoughts. And the worst part was that he felt selfish, for caring more for the memory of his lover than for the fate of the world resting upon his shoulders. He could not tell which task was heavier. Edgar’s lack of sleep and interest in holding a conversation came at the right time.

“The point of the machine is to rob you of your feelings,” Edgar spoke matter-of-factly. “Yet, I have the sensation that the machine is far from being perfect. It’s like a sharp tool shaving off what lies at the surface. Do I make any sense?”

“Not exactly, but do go on,” Cory joked.

“Our feelings, what makes us what we are, our memories, do not exist solely on the surface of our cortex. They have their roots deep in our consciousness, and, when the machine performs its culling job, it is nothing but a tool that cuts the branches, yet cannot fell the trees.”

“I think now you’re starting to make more sense, Edgar,” Cory replied, and this time, he was no longer joking. “Are you trying to tell me that I still have him? That I didn’t forget him?”

“The simple fact that you’re losing sleep over thinking about him should be enough proof,” the young scientist replied.

“I feel like his face ... I cannot see his face in my mind,” Cory let out a heavy sigh.

“But you don’t need that to still remember him,” Edgar spoke. “The only thing that truly matters is that you’re holding him in your heart and in your mind. The rest are details.”

“But what if I see him and I cannot recognize him anymore? Am I the same person as before? Is he the same?”

“Change is inevitable. Nothing stays the same forever. Yet, there are things that are enduring, and that is what makes us most human,” Edgar explained.

“What is this thing you’re talking about?” Cory asked, his voice full of hope.

“If I were a romantic, I’d call it ‘love’. But I’m afraid the notion is as strange to me as anything dealing with emotions. So let’s call it just what makes us preserve. As individuals. As a species.”

“What do you mean?”

“Feelings express something that goes deeper than what we can comprehend. We love, let’s use that word, because we don’t want to be alone. And it is a natural instinct, or else people would have never gotten together, and built settlements, like this one, nor would they have gotten friends to share their lives with, nor would they ... felt deep affection toward someone else.”

“That sounds like a romantic explanation to me,” Cory joked. “It’s funny, though, don’t you think. We learned the word ‘romantic’ only recently. From the old books.”

“That’s true,” Edgar admitted, his gaze a bit unfocused for a second.

“Do you ever think about Lena, Edgar? Like I do about Lucas?”

“All the time, my friend, all the time. See? I’m the living proof that the machine could not erase the one I love from my mind.”

“And you say you’re not a romantic,” Cory joked. “What you just said sounds exactly like that.”

“Then I suppose all that is needed is just a little practice,” Edgar joked back.

“I worry about him. I feel guilty. We’re here, yes, in the heart of the desert, exposed to who knows how many dangers, yet, there is no other more dangerous situation that what Lucas’s fate must be right now.”

“He should be safe,” Edgar said half-heartedly. “At best, the Trainers will just put him through their reeducation program. They never waste a talented mind, or so they say.”

“After we fled, he must have been caught. He must have been punished,” Cory said, his pain making the sounds came out strangled, unnatural.

“There was nothing more for us to do. If the Trainers had caught us, Lucas’s life would not have been different from what it must be right now. He made his choice, and, since I’m the one with the cool head in this, please, forgive me, Cory, I would say that it is the least terrible outcome.”

“What are you saying? That we didn’t make things worse for Lucas by running away?” Cory asked.

“No, we didn’t. Without us in their clutches, the Trainers have no bargaining chip. Which means that they cannot truly determine Lucas to do their bidding.”

“I would like to believe that is true,” Cory spoke, his eyes drifting away, through the window, taking in the first rays of the desert sun over Haven.

“It’s one of the things I recently learned. To believe,” Edgar said. “And even I, a man of facts, have to admit that on a psychological level, it works. It gives me the motivation to move forward. And, Cory, don’t ever think of yourself as an egoist. I am as selfish as I can be. Because I hope and I believe that, when everything is said and done, I will be able to return to Aeria, my home, to my books, my workshop, and, of course, to Lena. And that I will finally have the courage to take her hand and tell her what I truly feel.”

Cory turned to look his friend in the eyes. He placed both hands on the man’s shoulders.

“Thank you, Edgar. In this time of need, you prove to be a true friend. Now I feel like I can face the world again.”

“Glad to be of help. Is it a wrong time to mention that we need to saddle up for Teran? If we want to be able to grab those guns, as Marcus says, we need to put the hours in ... well, driving, and grabbing.”

“Isn’t it dangerous? Maybe it would be for the better for you to stay here. There are plenty of things you can do while waiting for our return.”

“Nonsense, my friend,” Edgar brushed Cory’s caution off. “One, I would disappoint Lucas if I were to lose you out of my sight. Second, I also need to keep an eye on this operation so that it goes as peacefully as possible.”

“And third,” Cory added with a small laugh, “you don’t want to miss all the action, right?”

Edgar smiled in turn.

“Of course. Some of Marcus’s behavior must have rubbed on me. I almost feel the need to grab a gun and shoot,” the scientist replied in good humor.

“As much as we would like to joke about it, we might just need all the hands we can get for firing weapons, too,” Cory spoke, some of the gloominess from earlier slowly creeping in again.

“I would have no problems with that,” Edgar hurried to assure him. “And somehow I feel Lena would be impressed to hear about me firing a real weapon. Hmm, this just might be something that Marcus planted in my head. I do not recall having such ambitions before.”

“Then let’s get ready for Teran so that you can put these ambitions into practice later. You should at least show some marksmanship once you get to fire a gun in front of Lena. We wouldn’t want her to be unimpressed, right?” Cory joked.

“Definitely,” Edgar agreed.

Cory looked over the settlement again. But, this time, his heart was a little less heavy. He would have to face whatever the future had in store. What made it easier was the fact that he was not going to do it alone.

In Drena, in his iron chair, Lucas could feel his strength coming back to him. It was like power was coursing through his veins, raw and wild. It needed something, a channel, where it could pour itself.

“Head Trainer, I am ready,” he confirmed, placing his hands on the iron arms.

“I would recommend waiting for a little more time,” one of the Trainers spoke. “Lord Lucas has just awakened.”

“There is no point,” the Head Trainer waved. “We are pleased with our favorite son’s enthusiasm.”

“Have you forgotten about Lord Xavier?” the same Trainer from before spoke.

“No, we have not forgotten. Should he come back to us, we will welcome him into our loving arms,” the Head Trainer replied, and this time, his grey eyes searched for the speaker to identify him in the midst of grey hoods.

“I believe Lord Lucas is still too dehydrated after the effort,” Lucas’s servant suddenly spoke. “I recommend a hearty meal and a bit of rest. With your blessing, of course,” the servant took a bow.

“Why are you, servant, still here?” the Head Trainer turned his attention on the young man speaking out of turn.

“To watch over Lord Lucas’s wellbeing,” came the prompt reply.

“You are free to go, child. Lord Lucas is with us now. He has no longer need of your services.”

“He still needs nourishment and...”

“Be gone, servant!” the Head Trainer’s harsh voice slashed through the air. “We will see if you can still be used later.”

“I beg forgiveness, Head Trainer,” the servant bowed again, and began walking away.

Lucas registered the young man moving from his side. The hand the servant had held throughout the ceremony of initiation felt cold. Colder than the rest. He gave it no longer thought. He was to receive his first mission.

“Let the trial test begin,” the Head Trainer commanded, as soon as the heavy door closed after the servant.

“Aren’t we traveling a bit too light?” Xavier asked, seeing Marcus pulling his van in front of Ayn’s home. “We do go there to collect an important amount of weaponry.”

“Collect,” Marcus repeated after him and burst into laughter. “I like the way your man thinks, Ayn. He just makes our entire operation, I don’t know, sound like a stop and delivery sort of thing.”

“Should I really explain to you the difference between collecting and delivering?” Xavier glared now.

Marcus laughed even harder.

“Ayn, I believe you fucked a sense of humor into this guy,” the man began slapping his thighs, his fit of laughter unstoppable.

Xavier had to admit that he was working hard on keeping a frown and the corners of his lips tugged down. Marcus was incorrigible, that was a sure fact. That didn’t mean, however, that the question didn’t still stand.

“Are we using just this one van?” he insisted.

“Brother,” Marcus placed one heavy hand on his shoulder, “take a little look over there.”

Xavier followed the direction pointed by Marcus.

“I see. That is more like it,” he commented.

It looked like the entire settlement intended to be part of this operation. There were vehicles of all shapes and sizes gathered further toward the gates to the settlement, and while people were still barely waking up, it looked like there were plenty of drivers to man all the transportation devices.

“Ayn, how can I impress your man?” Marcus complained.

Ayn, who had so far preferred to watch the exchange between his friend and his lover from the sidelines, grinned.

“Sorry, man, you don’t have it in you. Only I can impress Xav.”

Xavier noticed with satisfaction how Ayn moved lazily to come next to him. He said nothing as the man threw one arm over his shoulders.

“Should I pull out my dick to see whose is longer?” Marcus asked, his eyes shiny with mischief.

“It’s not all about length,” Ayn puffed out his chest. “It’s how you use it.”

“Stop it, man, your sweetheart’s blushing already,” Marcus joked.

“I am certainly not blushing,” Xavier protested. “And I can vouch to Ayn’s prowess in bedroom affairs if that seems to be the issue.”

It was hard for Xavier to keep a straight face as Marcus stared at him, trying to figure out if that was a joke, or Xavier was serious about all that. Eventually, scratching his head, the man declared himself defeated.

“You got yourself a fine man, Ayn. He almost shut me up, what can I say?”

“You can simply rally up the troops,” Xavier chose to reply in Ayn’s stead. “We need those weapons.”

“Yes, sir,” Marcus mocked, feigning a salute, but he followed through and began shouting at the man and women getting busy around the vehicles.

“So, are we ready?” Xavier asked, turning toward Ayn.

Ayn’s gaze was intense, and Xavier sustained it with his own.

“For all that is worth, Xav, it’s been fun, right?” Ayn said, pulling him close.

“Let’s see how this plays out,” Xavier patted his lover on the back. “We have a long road ahead of us. Filled with dangers, yes. But I have you by my side.”

“And I have you,” Ayn replied. “And you know what? You still behave like a Ruler.”

“That is not easy to forget,” Xavier said with a sigh.

“No, it’s okay. Because I think you’re one of the reasons why I think we’re going to win this.”

“One of the reasons?” Xavier laughed.

“For me, the best reason of all,” Ayn embraced him tightly.

“Are you going to put on a show, so that others can enjoy it, or you’re just going to stand there all day making lovey-dovey eyes at each other?” Marcus interrupted them.

“Chill,” Ayn shot back, but without an edge to it. “We’re ready to roll.”

“Who else is riding with us?” Marcus demanded to know.

“Just the usual. Cory and Edgar,” Ayn replied.

“Good. Then let’s go get them,” Marcus nodded. “I want Edgar to see his work on my baby’s engine put to the test.”

“Are you in love or something, Marcus?” Ayn teased. “Edgar this, Edgar that, all day long. If I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you’re smitten.”

Marcus didn’t seem bothered in the slightest with his friend’s allusions.

“Yeah, I’m smitten. The guy’s a frigging genius. That chick of his, she’s a lucky woman.”

“I hear she’s a genius, too,” Ayn continued.

“Then I’ll have them both,” Marcus shrugged. “You know I can handle,” he opened his arms wide as if he could barely wait for Edgar and Lena to jump into them that very moment.

Ayn laughed.

“Just don’t let the guy hear you say that about his beloved. Genius or not, he might get pissed.”

“Ah, no reason to,” Marcus laughed. “I’ll just have the both of them upgrade all the vehicles we have. I’ll pay them in hard liquor and I’ll rent them my cot so they can finally get to know each other. For real.”

“Really, Marcus, I think you should not propose such a thing to Edgar. He is a gentleman, unlike you,” Xavier pointed out, but he was laughing, too.

“Well, then I’ll repay him by teaching him how to be less of a gentleman, or that girl is going to leave him for some big bad boy, like me,” Marcus joked.

“Let’s just focus on getting back from this trip alive,” Xavier said. “So ready?”

Marcus nodded.

“On your call, Your Majesty.”

It was odd how at ease they seemed to be able to breathe now, Dion thought. Although it felt like they were going deeper into the pits, the air was not as heavy as he had expected, and the tall walls also made their trip into the unknown easier to handle, at least, as far as the fear threatening to nestle in their minds went.

“We should find a refuge room, and then scout the corridors. It’s all a maze,” John spoke.

Dion looked behind, at the men following them. He was surprised with the discipline the miners showed. None was complaining. Except for the people who had wanted to try escaping through the regular entrance, no one was speaking of this being a mistake.

And every word John said, was taken and said by the people walking right behind so that everyone down to the last would know what decisions were discussed. It seemed that the miners had tacitly decided to appoint John as their leader, and they could definitely do without all the chaos that would have derived from having too many heads shouting too many contradictory ideas.

Dion was completely out of his element, and he was wondering, inwardly, at John’s determination and what seemed to be great knowledge of dealing with his co-workers. He had always seen John as a loner, someone who cared more about keeping to himself than getting involved. And this new face of the man was only making him want to love him more.

He took John’s arm and glued himself to it. There was no danger from the others, he did not sense anything of the kind, but he needed to feel his man close.

Word from the men marching behind flew back to them. It seemed that one of the miners knew of an old refuge, back from the times when the mines had not become so complicated. It wasn’t something that the man knew based on his own experience, but from a memory passed from people who had lived before.

Dion wondered briefly how come the Trainers had allowed such a thing to be known by the miners. Maybe they had thought that once trapped in Drena’s underbelly, they were condemned to die there, anyway. So what they knew didn’t matter anyway.

“Are you cold?” John asked him, pulling him close.

He shook his head. They were moving forward, but he still feared of what lay ahead. They needed nerves of steel and hope on their side.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, not as long as I breathe,” John whispered into his ear. “You came for me.”

“I came for you,” Dion said, too.

“You could have stayed, continue living up there,” John pointed out. “Someone pretty like you...”

“Someone pretty like me would have missed you very much,” Dion said softly.

John pulled him closer, if that was even possible.