Chapter 7
Annie Helfner raced into the kitchen.
“He’s coming,” she whispered to her husband, Raegher, as she scrambled to light candles on a freshly iced cake.
Callen strode into the kitchen as Annie yelled ‘Happy Birthday!’ The cake read, ‘Happy 19 Birthday’ in white iced writing.
Callen was already running late; his first lecture was in less than an hour. He was an athletic young man with dirty blonde hair and deep blue eyes. In every way, he’d grown into a natural leader. Annie and Raegher couldn’t be prouder of him. He was one of a handful of students who qualified to attend a university with all its social and personal networking advantages. The majority of university students had to be content with learning from lectures delivered through home viewers.
"This isn’t for now," Annie said of the cake, knowing Callen was in a rush. "It’s for tonight. I just wanted you to see it. I had to mix it and do the icing myself."
"It’s great, mum," Callen said as he kissed Annie goodbye.
"Will you be inviting anyone for dinner - Jenny, maybe?"
Callen gave his mother a long-suffering look.
"I’ll be home early," he said, threading his bag onto a shoulder and heading out the door.
"He’s not with Jenny anymore," Raegher chastised, the moment the door closed.
"He’s been moping for weeks. I thought it might be a good excuse to fix whatever it is he did."
Raegher gave Annie a rueful look as he pulled her into his arms.
"He’s going to be fine,” he assured. “Whatever happened, Callen’s smart enough to make it right.”
Callen walked the twenty minutes to the underground carriages. He swiped his crystal as he entered. On the platform, he sat on a plastic bench, deep in thought.
He rode a carriage to the college station and joined his classmates to one side of the main quadrangle. A large floating screen played news and ads in a never ending stream from high atop a far wall. Callen’s closest friends were Jenny, Simone and Jay. They’d all attended the same high school and were the only ones from their school who gained the marks needed to attend university. Thier shared success had brought them closer as friends.
Callen and Jenny had been more than friends until recently. The reason for their break-up was something they hadn’t shared with anyone. Jenny was quick to greet Callen and offer him birthday wishes. Simone and Jay joined in, handing over gift crystals. Callen clicked each into his mobile display and gushed in thanks. He had vouchers, games and birthday wishes. Jenny’s message was friendly, albeit a little cold: “Happy birthday, Jenny XO.” Callen read the card and thanked her politely. She handed him another crystal. He looked at it oddly. Jay couldn’t help be his usual provocative self.
“Just a reader, right? ‘Cause you’re not giving him your boom-boom crystal anymore, unless maybe as a birthday…?”
Simone whacked Jay up the back of the head with one of her books.
“Owwwww!” he shot at her with a hurt look, a little surprised by her aggression.
“It’s just a reader, Jay,” Jenny assured. “Loaded for next year - every textbook on the list.”
“You think he’s going to pass this year?” Jay teased.
From nearby a young woman, a fellow first-year student approached and stood a respectful distance from the group. She only knew the four in passing and didn’t want to interrupt. She waited, finally drawing their attention.
“Hi,” she said nervously on catching Callen’s eye.
“Hi,” Callen returned and then dropped into an awkward silence.
“Alecia,” the girl prompted.
“I know,” Callen said when he didn’t; he was simply too embarrassed to admit it. Alicia liked being noticed, especially by boys. She made a habit of testing the moral code with progressively more daring outfits until she was told to cover up. Then she’d start the whole process again, starting from her most conservative outfit and slowly working towards her most revealing. She was nearing the end of that cycle today.
“Could I have a word, in private?”
Callen paused, then got up and walked closer.
“I heard it’s your birthday,” the girl began softly, “Happy birthday.” She pulled a crystal from her cleavage and unclipped it from her necklace. She handed it to Callen. It was warm to the touch.
“The privacy settings are off. The only security is for personal viewing; I want it to be just you.” Alecia smiled and squeezed Callen’s hand. His fingers wrapped hard around her personal crystal. Alecia walked away with a flick of her hair and gave Callen one last sultry look over her shoulder as she disappeared into the crowd. Callen turned to his friends with embarrassment. Jay began an appreciative slow clap.
“Let her do all the talking and just took the crystal. Well played.”
“I didn’t do anything to encourage that,” Callen said.
“Can you put in a good word for me?” Jay asked, “My birthday’s only a couple of months away.”
Simone whacked Jay even harder this time.
“I’m just saying - if she’s giving it away, she should be giving it to everyone.”
“Shut up Jay,” Simone cautioned, giving Jay a pinch to his arm that made him squeal. Jenny grabbed Callen by the hand and dragged him away before he had time to sit. Callen looked worried, sensing trouble. Jay and Simone stopped their private pinching war to watch, as Jenny dragged Callen off into the distance.
“Are you seriously blaming me for that?” Callen asked as he was led down a path and around a corner. They were heading towards a small courtyard in a seldom used part of the grounds.
“That was all her, not sure if you noticed?”
“The entire university’s had her crystal,” Jenny said with a sneer as they reached an area hidden on three sides by synthetic gardens.
“I couldn’t remember her name!”
“I don’t care whose crystal you’re using.”
“No? Then what’s going on?”
“You know what this is about.”
Callen froze. He’d been dreading this chat for weeks. Jenny had tried to initiate it a few times since they’d broken up, but he’d always managed to avoid being left alone with her. He grew nervous, knowing his whole life might hinge on the next few moments.
“I need to know you weren’t serious?” Jenny said, staring intently. He stared back, unsure what to say.
Jenny and Callen had hooked up in their last year of high school. Callen was sure he’d finally found someone he could trust with his biggest secret: the mystery of his stitches and his adventure beyond the wall. Jenny was stunned when he told her his suspicions. She felt the official explanation; that Callen dreamed everything while passed out, was the more likely. Jenny panicked when he told her his plans to retrace his steps to find out for certain. The wall was the city’s greatest safeguard of people’s freedoms. Those beyond the wall would stop at nothing to undermine their way of life. As a result, any talk of breaching the wall was reportable. If Jenny did her duty, Callen would be swept up, placed under surveillance or incarcerated for years, if not a lifetime. She was so unnerved she broke up with Callen on the spot and ever since the two had regarded each other warily. Callen lay awake at night worried by what Jenny may do and each day he’d do his best to act casual and relaxed to convince her he wasn’t serious about any of what he said. He was doing his best to convince her he was no threat to anyone.
“It was just talk,” he assured her again. “I’m not going to do something illegal when it’s most likely a dream. And even if I could get outside the wall, which I can’t, but even if I could, the Outlocked would kill me.”
Jenny held his eye, trying to judge him. She wanted to believe he believed this.
“Promise me?”
“I swear - on our City, on my parents, on everything we want for our futures.”
Jenny’s expression broke with relief. She visibly relaxed as they traded meek smiles.
“I woul
d never report you. You know that, right? You just had me so worried,” Jenny confessed.
“Me being stupid is all.”
Callen tried to wear an unconcerned smile as he walked her back to their friends, hoping he’d done enough to convince her he would never try to go out beyond the wall.
Callen arrived home to find Annie opening food bars and arranging them on a heating gel for the oven.
“How was your day?” she asked.
Callen took a synthetic apple from the fruit bowl.
“Long,” he said, hardly slowing as he headed to his room.
“Your father’s running late, but dinner isn’t far off,” Annie called after Callen. A moment later Callen was in his room, throwing his bag down and switching on his computer. His list of emails sounded like a drumroll as each one downloaded. He hit his spam program. The hundreds of messages dwindled instantly to three, none of their headings compelled him to read.
Callen sat on his bed and thought through his chat with Jenny. It worried him. He regretted telling her anything, but he knew it sealed his fate. He had to act quickly, tonight. He didn’t feel he had any other choice. He went to his wardrobe and grabbed the backpack he’d been preparing. He checked through the contents: Rope, binoculars, spare microfibre clothing, long life food bars, aqua gel, skin spray, a compass and a knife.
He’d been ready for weeks, packing and repacking, planning and re-planning and always making an excuse to delay his plans. With Jenny’s concern, he’d run out of excuses. He repacked his backpack one more time and took his mobile display from his pocket, ready to add to his survival pack. He spotted Alecia’s present, her crystal sitting forgotten. Now, alone in his room and knowing he was about to undertake the most dangerous expedition of his life, he decided to make the most of the gift, a final farewell from an admirer. He clicked the crystal into his computer port.
“Lights, twenty percent,” he ordered. The lights in the room dimmed.
“Program Alecia, personal message.” A small hologram of Alecia appeared on his desk. She was just as she’d been in life, but one-twentieth the size and she spoke addressing no one.
“Hi, Callen,” the perfect glowing miniature of Alecia said. “I want to wish you a happy birthday and I-”
“Program stop,” Callen commanded as he raced around his room. He cleared the two backpacks from his bed and dragged a silver box, the size of a briefcase, from underneath. He opened the box showing clear thick silicone gel inside. He flipped up the plastic control panel from the side of the box. A red light came on as he shucked off his shirt and shoes.
“Program, Alecia, personal message, silitherm link,” he commanded. The gel began to quiver as if it were alive. The amorphous mound rose and took the shape of a clear human body. It flashed with Alecia’s frozen holographic image as it linked to the signal from the computer. Alecia’s image grabbed hold of the clear gel. The mass became stable as it supported and absorbed the holographic features. Callen pulled off his socks and undid his pants as the silitherm settled into a life-sized, solid form. It had the look, warmth and feel of Alecia.
“Program Alecia, personal message continue,” Callen commanded, as he stepped out of his pants. Alecia seemed to be in the room with him.
“..Thought this would be better than getting you a present; there are no privacy settings.”
“Is the program recording?” Callen asked as he lay on the bed in his underpants.
“Of course not,” the program responded in Alecia’s voice. “What sort of girl do you think I am?”
“Strip naked,” Callen commanded. Callen bent his legs and flipped them under his synthetic sheet. He lay back and watched as Alecia’s form began to strip. She was left in only panties as she flipped off her bra. Callen commanded she come to him. She did, walking seductively forward to join him under the sheet.
“What are we going to do?” she asked with a giggle, as Callen wrapped his arms around her. They kissed, long and deep.
“Are you enjoying my gift?”Alecia asked in between nibbling Callen’s lip.
“Yeah, it’s great,” he panted.
“Then you’ll love this,” Alecia said as she slowly inched down Callen’s body. She lowered the sheet and kept sliding down, kissing his bare stomach as she passed his belly button. She kissed the top of his groin and hooked her fingers in his underwear.
A floating monitor appeared from nowhere, flashing to life by Callen’s desk. Annie’s face peered out.
“Sweetheart?” his mother called, surprised not to find her studious son at his desk.
“Shit!” Callen exclaimed and violently bucked Alecia off the bed. Alecia let out a short, sharp yelp that ended with a groaning thud as she hit the floor. At that moment, the floating monitor swung around to see Callen, now sitting up in bed, his arms hugging his knees.
“I thought you’d be at your desk?” Annie said.
“Just resting,” Callen replied in a strained voice.
“Dinner’s ready. I hope you’re hungry. I’m dying to try that cake.”
“I’ll be down in a second,” Callen said, still not moving from where he sat. The monitor disappeared, and Callen slumped in relief. His head dropped to his knees as he recovered from the closest of near things. He couldn’t believe he forgot to switch his monitor to private.
A dishevelled Alecia rose from beside the bed. She rubbed her head in pain.
“That wasn’t very nice,” she said, looking as annoyed as any real person.
“End program Alecia,” Callen ordered. He wasn’t about to argue social etiquette with a holographic silicon replica of a girl he hardly knew. Alecia’s image flickered and disappeared leaving a life-sized translucent jelly that puddled to the floor and lay forgotten.
Callen’s birthday meal was similar to most meals in the Helfner house. Callen ran through his day at university. Raegher listed his factory quotas and how everything at the plant seemed well. Annie talked about her work, a scientific research trial she was collecting data for and preparing reports.
At the end of the dinner, presents were brought out with the cake. Callen was genuinely grateful for all the effort, even though he had far bigger things on his mind. He received a new personal viewer and some geographic environment simulations, as well as more disks to help with studies. Callen knew he was privileged, but that didn’t ease his building guilt. He looked at the smiling faces of Annie and Raegher and already regretted the worry and concern he was going to cause them.
That night, Callen sat at his desk working. Both Annie and Raegher poked their heads in to praise him; even on his birthday, their boy had his priorities in hand. The kind words only served to prick Callen’s conscience. He wasn’t even working. He was wasting time looking up useless information and playing games on his computer, games he’d played a thousand times before.
The ruse of study allowed him to stay up late without raising suspicion. His clock showed two past two. Annie and Raegher had been in bed for hours. Callen had waited long enough. He had no excuses left. He got up and walked down the hallway to the closed door of his parent’s room. He stopped and listened. He heard nothing but the light rumble of Annie’s snoring.
Callen headed back to his room, grabbed the backpack from his wardrobe, turned off his computer and the lights in his room and walked quietly to the front door where he let himself out.
The station brought all the memories and emotions of his journey as a seven-year-old flooding back. Callen thought this odd, he travelled to and from this station to university almost every day and never felt as close to that far away adventure as he did right now.
He sat quietly waiting for the crowd of commuters to disperse; shift workers and others forced to work late. It was a long wait. It increased his tension. Finally, alone on the platform, he walked to the far end and waited for the next carriage to arrive. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure he was out of sight from the viewers. An old woman sat rummaging through a paper parcel to one end of the platf
orm, and a middle-aged man in his eighties flicked through a paper at her side. The platform nearest Callen was clear; there’d never be a better time. He felt the wind of the carriage approaching, followed by a familiar hum. As the carriage pulled into the platform, Callen dropped to the tracks and jogged to the entrance of the tunnel.
Inside the tunnel, he felt surer. The station disappeared as he walked deeper, just as he remembered, and the gushing wind came from every side as an oncoming carriage approached. The only thing changed was the space he had when the carriage passed. At seven, he was a good deal smaller. He held his breath as the carriage whistled by far closer than it had been all those years ago.
Callen looked around as the carriage thrummed away. He waited, knowing the sound of the first could easily mask a second. He began walking only when he was sure no other carriages were coming. The longer he walked, the more nervous he grew. He worried he might not find the doorway to descend below the tracks. His torch, with its small round laser spot, bounced with each step. Then he saw the door and ran to the entrance. He stopped at the threshold to mark the moment. This time it was not a boy with a knife driving him on, but curiosity.
He brought his hand to the scar on his side in an unconscious gesture as he stepped into the opening and onto the first rung of the ladder. He climbed by the light of his torch waving its focused spot ahead of him. The steps went deeper than he remembered and the floor below was more ragged with loose rock. He shone his torch to the walls. The last time he’d been here there was no light, now he was able to marvel at the natural stone walls. It was one of the few times in his life plastic didn't surround him.
He walked down the tunnel for almost twenty minutes, growing more concerned with each step. As a young boy, he remembered this walk, both in and out. First, he had the old man as a guide and then, on his way home, he had the thought of his lucky escape and the thrill of seeing his first parents to distract him. He didn’t remember walking this far, and he stopped. He studied the rock to each side as he continued. When he reached a hairpin bend, he stopped again. He would have remembered this sharp twist. He fought a depressing thought. Maybe his first journey was all in his imagination as the medical experts said? When he arrived home and told his story the authorities, doctors, psychologists and counsellors all swore the fight with the boy had left him unconscious, and the rest was simply his imagined fears playing out in his head. Callen never believed them, but he said he believed to satisfy everyone and be left alone.
Now, with the years blurring his memories, he wondered if the experts were right. He reluctantly turned to retrace his steps. Around a small bend, too slight to call a corner, Callen’s peripheral vision picked up a darker section of wall. He walked by, but there it was again, a shadow on the wall. He snapped his head back and shone his torch. Even under torchlight, the shadow remained. He walked forward to find a hollow, camouflaged by the uneven surfaces to either side. Callen stood in disbelief; he’d found the entrance to the old man’s cave – it was real.
His heart raced as he inched inside and shone the torch around the space. A dusty plastic curtain still hung in front of the old bed Callen once used to hide from his fears. It was like greeting an old friend, one he’d shared exploits with and now wanted to reminisce.
Callen dug around in the fireplace, clearing its last uneaten meal. The ash flew and joined the dust coating everything. When he walked across the space, he stumbled on uneven rubble, causing him to fall. He landed hard and arched his back in pain. Then he saw the white bone of a skull on the ground, looking at him, welcoming him home. Callen sat in the centre of the floor - mesmerised. It was the skeleton of the old man, his bones undisturbed through ten years of waiting. They held their foetal position; one hand raised to a chest covered in a shroud of rags.
Callen sat up, staring at the rags wrapped around those clean white bones. He felt no pain as he looked at his hero. The white skull, still with teeth in place, would have terrified anyone else, but Callen felt at ease in this ghoulish company.
He got to his feet, took his torch and ferreted around, collecting half a dozen candle stubs. A short time later the cave was as bright as any shrine. Candles flickered and popped as they lit up the room and Callen, using one of the old man’s makeshift tools, began to dig in the centre of the floor. It was the least he could do to repay a man who waited without complaint for so long.
Callen patted down the last of the dirt, burying the old man in the floor of his home; a home he died in trying to protect a boy who meant nothing to him.
“I never got to thank you,” Callen said standing over the freshly dug grave. The candles were coming to an end; a few were already dark. Callen looked to one side of the room and saw a large flat rock against the wall. It would make a perfect headstone. With some effort, he took it with the intention of placing it over the freshly turned dirt. When he rolled it away from the wall, he stopped dead. There was the tunnel that led to the Outlocked world. It seemed small. He wondered if he’d fit. He finished marking the old man’s grave with the rock and then crouched to take a better look at the passageway. Rocks filled the entire length of the tunnel. It all added to Callen’s long-held suspicions. No one had been in the room since his last visit, yet someone had sealed the passage from outside.
Callen began excavating as the last of the candles gave out. The work was slow. After three rocks, he was forced to enter with his rope and loop the next boulder. Then he’d crawl out and pull the rock behind him. The passage was so tight that Callen could only move his arms a short way from his side. His shoulders and arms became bruised by the time he had the rocks removed. It was difficult, tedious and uncomfortable work.
Callen pushed the last rock out of the tunnel. A flicker of dull moonlight broke through. He inched forward to peer out, what he saw sent a rush of terror and excitement through him.