Chapter 14
Cane of Lions
“What did you think you were doing yesterday?” asked Arnold. He had summoned End into his office the morning after.
“I was going about my duty, Arnold.”
“Don’t think I don’t know what you are thinking,” said Arnold. Seeing the stubbornness in End’s eyes, he tried a different approach.
“Even if you get into one of their units, the moment they find that you are not good enough, you will be sent packing. Without the proper progressive training, you will have nowhere to go. Without any training scheduled for you, and no job, you will be sent back to the Sphere.”
“They promised that they will accept me.”
“They were drunk.”
“But they are Colonels. They are supposed to have some kind of power to decide things.”
Arnold shook his head.
“You have got to focus on the Dark Obstacles Course and pass this training course.”
“What for? I have connections.”
“You had a drink one time with the Colonels and you think you have connections?”
“Sure.”
Arnold laughed.
“Even if you do. Connections only get you so far. In the end, the most important thing is still your ability. I suggest that you work hard to pass the BLCC first, and worry about vocations later.”
“Why do I need to pass the Dark Obstacles course when I have connections? Connections are everything. Look at Quentin.”
“What about him?”
“He is already poached by a unit isn’t he?”
Arnold was silent.
“Why can’t you tell me where he went Arnold?”
“Because it is confidential.”
“Exactly my point.”
Arnold did not know what else to say to End. He shook his head.
“You go ahead and believe what you want. You are dismissed.”
End nodded and left his office.
In the following weeks, End could not find the Librarian. He had so many questions but the Librarian was nowhere to be found. The Library was locked up and the Librarian was missing. End felt a little dis-hearted at the sudden ending of his tutelage. He wondered why the people closest to him seem to be leaving him one by one, and always without notice. But no matter, at least the guarantees from the Colonels mean that he will finally have a place in society.
And so his training days continued in the ILC. But this was a different End. On one hand, with the assurance he got, he no longer put in heart and soul into doing everything right. Furthermore, without the Olden form training with the Librarian, everything seemed mundane and boring for him. As the training days went by, he did what was necessary to get by, but focused on doing underground films instead. He became such a guru that he was given a new nickname, “The Director.” His film movement was becoming rampant. Soon, almost all the recruits in the ILC were toying with the olden style Lightcatching techniques. Soldiers were projecting movies on each other’s back during lectures. They were also sharing videos during lunch breaks. Some recruits were even using it at night to watch videos of their loved ones, and sharing them like movies. A new culture was developing.
End was gaining much notoriety for his tutelage of anyone who would ask him. More people were started to be interested in learning of how to use the viewfinder like a film camera. The trend of finding something else to do with the military device was beginning, and End was more than happy to teach them. But try as he might, he still had not found one student that could operate the VF as a film camera.
Besides this, End never gave up on that dream that the Colonels were going to take him away into their unit somehow. He volunteered for every duty there was to go to the officer’s mess. He wanted to see the Colonels again, to verify once more what they had promised. Arnold was strangely supportive, giving him the additional duties. He didn’t understand this, but he thought that Arnold must be trying to give him the opportunity to prove himself wrong. “I am not wrong,” thought End, “I will prove it to him and get myself into one of the units.”
So that day did come. End was carrying some crates back to the Officer’s mess when he saw them seated in that same position. He placed the crates down, and went up to them. They were drinking with another recruit. This recruit was really sucking up to them, praising and making them laugh. He was superb in the realms of public relations.
“Hi Sirs!” said End, trying to greet them.
“Oh. Another round for us please.”
“Do you remember me?” asked End.
The Colonels looked at each other. Eastwood was the first to speak.
“I’ll remember you if you don’t get me my beer in the next five minutes!”
End hurried over to get their beers. They were laughing at him as he scattered off to fill the glasses one by one.
“Faster! Faster!”
“The boy is so slow. Does he even work here? Is it his first day?” asked King.
End knew now that they could not even remember him. That blank look on their faces, it was horrible. It was a horrible feeling when you felt that you had an affinity with someone but they could not even remember you. Uncle E looked at him. He was not only a miser but also an expert at rubbing salt into people’s wounds.
“What did you expect? That they make you a king after you had one drink with them?”
“But they promised.”
“My boy. The first principle of business is that nothing is set in stone when you are drunk.” Smiled Uncle E as he walked away.
End was furious. He could not admit that he was wrong and he was also afraid because he had no way of passing the Dark Obstacles Course. At his next canteen break, he sat alone. Usually ? would be there with him, or Quentin. But this time, there was no one to consult or to chat with. “The useless concept of connections,” he thought to himself.
Just then, from the corner of his eye he spotted something.
Across the canteen area, and next to his own Raven company, was the company known as “SV” company, or “Savoir-Vivre” company. All recruits of the SV company was known to have special treatment because the company contained the son of someone important. A group of SV company recruits were marching back to their company line. End saw one of them strolling back. He had an air of arrogance. It was none other than Hoofhearted Jr.
Hoofhearted Jr’s sergeant, who happened to be Sergeant Navajo walked up to him and told him to march in line with the rest but the arrogant Hoofhearted Jr would not listen. Instead, Hoofhearted Jr told Navajo with great defiance that sergeants were not allowed to touch recruits from the “SV” company. Sergeant Navajo, annoyed by the truth, walked up his superior, a sergeant major of the company to state his case. The sergeant major told him to forget about it, but the sergeant just won’t and continued to harass Hoofhearted Jr for a push-up.
That was the final straw.
Hoofhearted Jr had enough as he told the sergeant that he must apologize by doing a hundred push-ups on the ground while shouting at the top of his voice, that he is a loser. The sergeant refused at first but Hoofhearted Jr ’s gang overpowered him. The sergeant major closed a blind eye as sergeant Navajo was forced to a hundred push-ups and humiliated. All this while Hoofhearted Jr laughed and told the sergeant, “Do you know who my father is?”
All of this also went into End’s Viewfinder. End was very angry with what Hoofhearted Jr did, but his true motivations came from his personal vendetta against those who could get away with “murder” from having true and powerful connections. At the comfort of his own bunk, End projected all the footage he had collected that day, on to the space of air molecules before him. Andy and Larry were watching him do something new and miraculous.
“What are you doing?” asked Andy.
Out of instinct, End began to move the footages around. He had found a way to edit the footage. Everyone in his bunk, stopped their activities and saw what he was doing. They came forward and cro
wded around him. No one knew how to record films at will, much less edit them.
“You mean the memories we collected can be edited?” asked Andy Wa.
“You can even change the color tone.” Said End as he tinted his memories a little more yellow. There was a great murmuring noise that came from his bunk as more recruits from other bunks came in and sat around to watch him complete his editing. Finally when End’s great masterpiece was done, he turned around to face everyone.
“Guys. I don’t think what Hoofhearted Jr did was right.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I am going to show it to the world.”
End turned on the running tap and consumed a lot of water. He was preparing himself for massive dehydration. Then all at once, he pointed his hand at the huge lion statue. The video of what Hoofhearted Jr did was projected on to it for all to see. Some recruits saw it. Andy and Larry grabbed End and pulled him away from the corridor.
“No. You will get spotted, and you will be punished.”
“It’s not fair. Why is it some people get away in life with the connections they have?”
“That’s them End. It’s not you!” said Andy Wa.
End would not be deterred. The next day, he sent the file to every recruit in his company with the help of Billy Gin’s amazing knowledge of signals, and his VF hopping technique. About a thousand recruits received it at first in their VF and watched it. In the days that followed, it became the talking point of every meal. The film was being passed on by hand, in the form of a handshake, from one viewfinder to another, as people began to speak of the inequality that was witnessed.
End’s film reached the citizens of the City of Lions. The citizens pressurized the Garment for Hoofhearted Jr’s dismissal from the prestigious ILC. Within a week, Hoofhearted was kicked out of the ILC.
A day after his dismissal, Amon was summoned to the home of a very powerful man. That man was none other than Hoofhearted Senior. Amon found himself inside the man’s private meeting room. The room interior was dark and the furniture was vintage and varnished. But in the shadows you could see too many bodyguards. They were all dressed like horse riding jockeys and walked with legs curved and wide open like they had rode a horse for far longer than they should have. Their fierce looking silver tinted glasses signaled that they were not to be trifled with. In the middle of them all, was Hoofhearted Senior. He wore a tuxedo, had nice thinning hair that was combed back with care. Even before he spoke, he looked like he had stuffed cotton wool in his mouth. You swore you could hear the faint sound of Italian music at the background that whispered the words “Mafia”, as the imposing figure of the man played with his cat.
Amon was not one who would ever be caught sweating. But he was, sweating. He had been summoned for the purpose of explaining the sudden expulsion of Alfredo Hoofhearted Junior. This task made all the more difficult, by the fact that Hoofhearted Senior financed the ILC in its entirety, and had pulled out his finance, moments after the news of his son’s expulsion had reached his ears. Amon needed that finance back fast, or the entire ILC would be decommissioned with immediate effect.
“Mr Hoofhearted Senior,” began Amon.
“Please. Call me Marlon.”
“Mr Marlon,” Amon took a deep breath as he still did not know how to say this, “We can arrange for Alfredo to leave the city tonight. He will face no further persecution, and when the dust settles, he can return immediately. With my power, I assure you that he will be safe.”
Marlon looked at his cat.
“How long must I wait for your… dust?”
“A month. This I guarantee,” said Amon, “But I hope that you could consider putting back your funding for the ILC as this is a crucial time for our research.”
The man stopped Amon short with a slowly raised hand. He put that hand back into good use, stroking his cat. His eyes never left his cat. He had a long pause, the sort that was deliberate because he wanted you to know that all power was in his cat playing hands. The world could wait for his answer. The nervous Amon could not.
“This I cannot do.” Replied Marlon as he had another long pause. “We’ve known each other for what?”
“Ten years.” Replied Amon.
“Eleven. I was there on the day you were born. Maybe you were too young to remember. When you were this tall, you still called me Uncle. And when you grew up, when you said you wanted an ILC for your birthday, remember what I asked from you?”
Amon nodded.
“I said Little Amon, it’s already yours. But invite your uncle Marlon over for coffee some day. You said ‘No, Uncle, the ILC has bad coffee’, but one day when your dream of a militarized ILC was accomplished, you would bring me some of the finest coffee that money cannot buy.”
The man took a sip of his coffee. He opened the little cat themed sugar holder, and used one of his cat themed small pincers to grab one of the cat-like design sugar cubes.
“Sugar?”
Amon had to say yes.
“Yes.”
“One? Two?”
“Two.”
The man put two sugar cubes into Amon’s coffee. He took out a small cat-shaped jar of milk that was so tiny.
“Milk?”
Amon had to say yes once more.
“Yes.”
Marlon poured a little milk into his coffee but did not stir. He allowed the slow diffusion of the milk and coffee, as he made his slow case to Amon.
“How is the coffee?” asked Marlon.
Amon still couldn’t take a hint. He took a sip.
“Its. Its…good.” answered Amon.
“It’s terrible! It’s what I have been drinking while I was waiting for you. At first I told myself, ‘Hey, I understand, the kid is busy’. I gave you your ILC, your army, your weapons, your technology, and you had no time for an old man like me. But now, you come to me and say. Mr Marlon, show me justice. No, you said Mr Hoofhearted Senior, show me justice. Give me back my ILC. But you don’t come with the best coffee powder that money cannot buy. Instead, you come and you bring something else. You bring your…dust.”
Hoofhearted Senior began coughing at the word dust.
“I will get you your coffee.” Murmured Amon.
Marlon stopped playing with his cat and Amon knew immediately that he had said something wrong. Marlon placed his cat on the table and stood up to look out the window.
“Amon, what’s happened? Even when you were younger, when that big bully hit you, you would know to call me Uncle, and that kid would never grow up to become a proper man. And even when you were younger, you knew to call me Uncle a hundred times because you knew that the more you did, the more people began to fear you.”
The proud Amon was reduced to this. He put back on the face that he used to wear when he was a young kid.
“Uncle Marlon, I need your help.”
Marlon stretched out his hand. Amon kissed Marlon on the hand. Marlon puts a hand around Amon’s shoulders.
“Did my son really do what you said he did in the ILC?”
“Yes.”
“Is he always behaving like this every week?”
“Yes.”
Mr Marlon nodded, and walked towards Amon to the door.
“Amon, I am sorry to have inconvenienced you to come this far to alert me of my family issues. A man that does not deal with his family, is not a real man, and so I will deal with my family, and I suggest that you deal with yours.”
Marlon pats Amon’s back, and walked with him to the door.
“Until then, please accept the ILC as a present.”
“Thank you Uncle Marlon. If you ever want a tour of the Research facilities…”
“No. You don’t touch my secrets and I don’t touch yours. All I ask is, maybe one day, and only if you have time, you can bring me some of that amazing coffee powder. But…”
Marlon made a dramatic pause and raised a lecturing finger at Amon.
“Don’t bring any more dust
.”
“Yes Uncle.”
Amon left the room. The doors closed behind him, and Amon heaved a huge sigh of relief. From that moment, it became Colonel Amon Goth’s priority to seek out the person responsible for the video. And he knew exactly how.
When Amon entered the War mart, Hoofhearted Jr was grabbing Uncle E by the collar and about to beat him into a pulp. He was swinging the fake item that Uncle E had sold to him previously.
“Just before I leave, I thought I give you a little present for selling me that piece of junk from Bitch road.”
With a swing of his hand, Amon pushed Hoofhearted Jr against the wall.
“Leave now.”
Hoofhearted Jr looked at Amon.
“You’re a joke.” Said Hoofhearted Jr to Amon, “Another puppet of my father’s.” Hoofhearted Jr left but not without first glaring at Uncle E and Amon with eyes of a snake. When he left, Amon had his personal time with Uncle E. Uncle E thanked Amon.
“Thank you sir.”
“Prepare me a few bags of your special coffee powder and beans, and I want it delivered to this address in one hour.”
“Yes sir.”
“And I want to know who made the video.”
Uncle E stopped dead in his tracks for a second and pretended he didn’t know.
“What video?”
“I will authorize you to sell light weapons in the war mart. It will not only be lights and spare parts, but real light weapons.”
Uncle E’s eyes began to glow. You could almost see the dollar sign through his glasses. But in his mind, he also saw the possibility that End would face as punishment. It was a great conflict inside his heart. Inside, Uncle E was struggling, but the offer of the ability to sell weapons in his war mart was too much for him to refuse.
“Well, Rumor has it that…” began Uncle E.
Within an hour, during a lecture lesson in a lecture theatre where End was receiving a lecture, the Military Police halted proceedings and entered the theatre. The MPs were directed to End, and they escorted End out of the theatre. Beef smiled at the marvelous sight.
The next time we saw of End, he was handcuffed in front of the entire parade square, and at a podium. All of recruits from the ILC, were called to cancel their classes or activities to attend the session. Amon walked up the podium. His footsteps were heavy.
“I called for this assembly today because I feel it necessary to remind you that the viewfinder is not a toy. It is a sacred tool whose sole purpose is for the peace and security of our City. You should master your Viewfinder to defend your city, your liberty, your friends, family and loved ones. Not abuse the power that was given to you.”
Behind Amon was Arnold. There was a different look about him, he seemed a little disappointed with End. He had an electronic whip in his hands that hissed and rattled like the tail of a rattle snake. Amon had tears in his eyes as he spoke the next few lines.
“It breaks my heart to see this boy ruin the good name and prestige that the Institute of Light Catching has worked hard for so many years to carve out and build. His very juvenile act of making a film using this weapon, is a testament of the utmost disrespect he has for our Institution and its laws. We are soldiers. Disciplined, civilized and mature men of light. If we allow ourselves to participate in these unruly, childish pranks, we will be hacking away at the very foundations of LightCatching itself. You owe it to your parents and your loved ones to treat this gift of technology with utmost respect, and as a sacred tool of building the very peace that we take for granted every single day.”
Arnold looked at End, angry and upset.
“From today onwards, anyone caught making films with their Viewfinder will suffer the same fate as this boy here. Arnold, you may begin.”
Arnold nodded, and with his whip unleashed the most searing pain that End had ever experienced. The “Cane of Lions” as it was so affectionately called, was legendary and a trademark of the City of Lions known to the entire world. The pain that it produced was usually able to make one give up on life altogether. With every stroke leaving a permanent mark on his buttocks, End was smacked right into obedience, and having his life, and will, stripped out of him. He gritted his teeth but it was no use. His arms grew weak from being chained up, and he let gravity hold him. His knees no longer had the strength help himself stand upright. Uncle E was in the crowd and felt the pain as if it were his own. The pain was so bad that End had wet himself, and yes. End’s embarrassment was not even the least bit a priority in pain such as this.
“Enough.” Said Amon. Arnold dropped the whip and rushed over to assist End. End could not see too clearly, but he swore he could see tears in Arnold’s eyes. Arnold carried him personally to the medical center to be treated. Amon stood on the podium alone, even after everyone had left. He was sad to have to do such a thing. He felt like the bad guy in this scenario.
End was given immediate medical attention. Doctors were using their VFs to heal the wound as quickly as they can. They had to disinfect, and seal the wound or his life would be in danger. There was nothing End could say or do to make the pain go away. The doctors even had to use their light energy to provide him with a kind of emotional morphine. At first there were five doctors trying to subside his emotional pain. That number became thirty. But the pain was still too much. The emotional morphine was not sufficient, and End was suffering. Arnold saw it and was annoyed with the doctors.
“Move aside.” Said Arnold.
He walked over to End, and gave him a knock out punch.
One evening, End finally opened his eyes. The pain was not as bad as he remembered. He must have been lying here in the medical ward’s bed for a week at least. When he opened his eyes, he saw the angel of his life. He was not sure if he was dreaming or dead.
“Is that really you?” asked End with no strength in his voice.
“Yes,” said ?, “Dr Lecter said he would give me a second chance.”
End could see Dr Lecter standing outside. He did not have an inch of trust in that man. Was it his own pain playing tricks on him, or was it instinct that told him that Dr Lecter must be up to no good.
“Don’t worry. I still rejected his dinner date proposals. Even so, he allowed me to work here again so that I could see you.” Said ?.
End shook his head. He did not think that Dr Lecter was up to any good.
“I tried using my VF to heal your wound, but the wound is just too deep.” Said ?. She held End’s head closer to hers, and heard him whisper something. End brought his head close enough for a few soft words.
“Kill me.” Said End. The pain was truly intolerable. After the numbing effect of sleep, pain tends to slip back in slowly.
“Hush. Just Rest.” Was all she could say. Tears flowed from her eyes, as she used more effort to provide emotional light for End.