Defenestrate The Masses
The Ground Was Hazel…
The ground was hazel, like hair, where the thin old grass stretched to the edges of the Ridge States. On both sides the halls cried verdant tears where the rain had forced its way inside then out again. Only torn vegetation showed it was still in use, though not often and not by many. It seemed learning was secondary to surviving. It showed signs however of being spectacular in its heyday. Edward River could see a destination, even if it didn’t seem like one, broken, jagged, taken apart by apathy. And yet there was something wrong about the whole thing. The Rook inside him, that instinct which tingled, told Edward it disapproved of their current course. Edward ignored it. He shouldn’t have.
The wall to his left exploded, thudding him with stone and brick. He moved quickly and away from the explosion, but was caught on the right by a similar blow out. Another on the left, one from above, this one containing dirt smeared glass, but still as razor sharp. He ran, in the only direction he could. The Rook was screaming at him, not helping his immediate situation. Smoke pushed out from his centre, trying to take control, but Edward needed his senses now. Another explosion took the floor from him, dropping him dizzily ten feet into the crater. He shook the shock from his attention and pulled himself from the hole. When he was half out, he spotted a man on the corner, watching then disappearing upon being noticed. Edward stood his full height, eyes burning a hole in the wall where the man had been. Internally he let out the words the Rook instinct needed to hear; go get him.
Unfurling like angry smoke, the black mist rolled out, engulfing Edward in seconds, billowing like discarded dust kicked up from the ground. The Rook was barely formed when it began its motion forward. Like a hunting dog, the Rook reached the corner the figure had spied from and turned to face a hole burrowed into a wall, exposing the construction rods used to secure the walls and foundations during building. It led inevitably to the Drift; the Below.
Many warnings that would deter even the most hardy were splayed all over the entrance way. Various threats of death, violence and dissection were scrawled in graffiti. The air turned pungent, and the feeling was close and claustrophobic, with darkness hiding anything the mind could conjure up. The Rook was assailed from the right side, taking it from its promised path, smacking into a support strut, half bathed in moss, showing dampness and decay. More came from the shadows, like animals sensing a distressed prey. They set on the Rook, taking any pot shot or exposed strike where and when they could, but the Rook was already rising. It brushed those to the left away, those to the right it took down with the weight of momentum. Bricks and bottles were thrown following a chorus of excitement from the shadows. The Rook was reeling when it should be succeeding. Edward within chanced his arm. He concentrated on the black mist, manipulating the extremes into rope like tendrils that grasped out for the attackers, lifting some into the air and striking them on the ceiling above, from its hands the Rook shot out rubber bullet like pellets, striking the other attackers with venomous force, spinning those caught in ragdoll physics, leaving many of them still conscious, moaning and writhing in pain on the floor.
“See what we can accomplish if we work together? Please stop blocking me from helping you.” pleaded Edward River through the haze of the Rook. The instinct that controlled the Rook simply relaxed, and Edward could now feel a freedom he hadn’t ever felt. But he also knew the creature must control the motion. His job would be the brain.
The next encounter further into the cavernous Below was a little tougher but not insurmountable. The walls were caked with impacted waste, newspaper, human effluent, the discarded and unwanted nothings that the people above didn’t wish to deal with. It was desperate. The world became distorted, as did the people - the remains of life above fed the remains of life down below. Rivers of urea flowed in tributaries, waterfalls and pooled in places where a lake was formed. The water bubbled with unfathomable things, gasses created by the combination of elements that would be deadly to those who didn’t suffer it daily. Or the Rook. The respirator like beak now showed its use as it filtered out the worst the Below had to offer. As each wave of loyal followers to the bomber came, or simply the disenchanted who would take fight to anything that interloped or was different from them, Edward learned more of what he was capable of in the body of the Rook. He could sense the things Conrad had put into them - the ideas, the concepts, the actionable traits. The symbiosis was held evident by the brain and the brawn; they were designed to work in tandem, the Rook and Edward River. It felt right. It was, essentially, their raison d’être.
The tail end of the commotion turned to the subject at hand. The bomber was escaping down a nearly invisible hole in the combined detritus. Flinging the last assailant casually to one side, sending the man splashing into the edge of the urea lake, where he scuttled off back to his hole, the Rook took after the bomber.
The way was barred. The Rook struck the covering again and again, until Edward told the Rook to relax while he tried something. Tendrils of black smoke reached out to find any gap or hole in the covering. Where it found that gap, it seeped through, more and more until the majority of smoke was on the other side. The remainder of smoke on the locked out side sucked like water down a plughole through the gaps until the Rook and Edward were on the other side. They continued pursuit.
The tunnel remained compact until the winding, slimy passage thrust out into an area unlike others in the Drift. Here there was a set of constructed levels, some for storage, some for domesticity, some for bomb making. Edward and the Rook spotted the bomber. He was on the second level, in his laboratory area, dashing for a console, where he flipped a switch. The whole ground shook as thousands of shock rods lifted out of the ground. The floor of the cavern turned electric, with arcing sparks dancing high into the air, like a hundred Van Der Graff generators firing at once. The bomber audibly chuckled as he turned his back to prepare some other counter measures.
But in a blur from one fraction to another, the Rook bridged the gap across the field of overactive electrons, turning the man to face it, its hand around the man’s throat. Something was happening to the structure of the Rook. Something unexpected perhaps to both the Rook itself and Edward River. The black mist around the head began to dissolve, leaving the head of Edward and the Body of the Rook. The Rook instinct understood now through demonstration the need for union.
“Who are you?” asked Edward’s head.
“Axon Dendrite. You must understand, I had no choice!”
“We all have a choice. It’s what separates us from the animal. You’re not an animal, are you, Axon?”
“Devereaux! You don’t know him! He has people everywhere! Maybe even here!”
“He’s not here now. I am. I’m sure my reputation precedes me?”
Axon Dendrite choked a swallow from his dry throat, still constricted by the thick glove-like covering of the Rook’s essence, “I have dossiers! Dossiers on them all! Read them if you want! Take them! Destroy them! Do what you want, just don’t kill me!”
“Who said I was going to kill you? We all don’t fly the same destructive banner as Daedalus Devereaux, you know.” Edward persuaded the Rook to release its grip on Axon Dendrite, who rubbed furiously at the puckered skin where the fingers had dug deeply. The form of the Rook now relinquished total control, and the smoke dissipated into the fetid air, leaving Edward River standing alone with Axon Dendrite, “Tell me more about these dossiers?”
Axon Dendrite led Edward down one level, down amongst the stored trinkets and endless piles of paper. Axon lifted something hefty from his left side. It was the Volume Edward had come for, “The Ever Present”.
“I take it this is yours? I liberated it long ago. Believe it or not, I didn’t want it getting into the wrong hands.” Edward took it from him, securing it under his arm. Axon led on, deeper into the jungle of memorabilia, “As I say I compiled dossiers on many of the power magnates in the City, in case I needed ammunition, for self defence, you understand? One cannot be too careful. Here.” Axon spread his arms, manifesting enthusiasm at his hordes of boxes, folders, books and pulp of varying degrees.
Edward moved toward them. There was an extreme amount of information here, too much to collate now. He turned to Axon Dendrite, forlorn, “I have a mind to explore this information, but as you understand, my present is in finding, understanding and protecting these Volumes.” Edward tapped the cover of the book in emphasis.
“I understand. Here, take this.” Axon Dendrite handed Edward River a signet ring embossed with a symbolic key in relief, “Put it to the door above and it will open. My place is yours. My discoveries are yours. My life is yours.” Edward smiled and placed the ring on his finger, “Oh and be careful of Daedalus Devereaux, especially those who work closely with him, like Helena Romaine. Don’t trust her. Ah. I see from the look on your face you already met?”
“It was she that led me to Devereaux and his ambitions regarding the Volumes. I refused him.”
“No one refuses Daedalus Devereaux.”
“He wasn’t too pleased about it. I have been fighting his minions ever since, not least you, up until a few short minutes ago.”
“You understand I am not as strong as you? I am weak. I fold like a bad hand of cards. But I can not anymore with good conscience allow him to control me.”
“If you are truly repentant, the Rook will look after you, as it does all well intentioned people. I am sure I will return.” Edward ascended the stairs and placed the ring face into the hole. The door opened, out into the Library of this Seat of Learning. Edward moved over to the windowsill, where the glass had been removed years ago. He sat there, on one side the library with its weather worn, dog eared and yellowing books - leaves dancing and rustling in the early evening breeze - on the other side was the City, darkened below with pinpricks of light as the only indication of domesticity, even as the sky a exuded a rusty brown in the evening light. Edward had the Volume open on his lap as he read.
No comments:
Post a Comment