“All these plans, these crazy plans...I mean giving up on civilization....” Jane said. “That’s all based off of your video game?”
“It’s based on history and human nature,” Bryce said. “The simulations just help us to visualize the inevitable. You hold on to faith in mankind, but we can no longer wait for someone else to save us. We must do what we can. We must be the heroes of our own story.”
She wanted to pick holes in his arguments and all the assumptions he made, but she knew that overall he was right. Jane remembered her ecosphere, glass shards flying everywhere as it ruptured on the concrete floor. It was already too late to save this world, but maybe she could still build a new one. This was a good place to start again.
“You’re asking us to join your project?” asked Jane.
“No, I’m asking you, both of you, to join our nation,” said Bryce. “Please.”
Jane looked at Mai-lin to gauge her reaction. There was no hint of a smile on her face. She simply nodded.
“Okay,” Jane responded. “But I’m not living on a giant plastic raft in the middle of the ocean.”
Bryce chuckled. “Of course not. I’ve already arranged for something much nicer.”
************
Ten nauseating hours later, Jane found herself once more in the thrill-seeking hands of Chris Barstow as she piloted the Gulfstream around the Himalayan mountains. They had flown west from the Nimitz, below Hong Kong and into Vietnam and Laos. The Gulfstream had stayed at high elevation over the ocean, but once they hit land, Chris turned them towards the mountains and dove the plane low to the ground. She claimed that their flight pattern was designed to avoid detection as the Myanmar government wasn’t aware of their activities, but Jane suspected that Chris just wanted an excuse to weave around mountain peaks like a slalom racer wrapping around moguls. Bryce smiled the whole way. He seemed to enjoy a little adventure.
“How can we start an independent nation if the Myanmar government doesn’t know we’re here?” asked Mai-lin.
“We’re not going to Myanmar,” explained Bryce. “We’re headed to Bhutan.”
“Isn’t Bhutan a monarchy?” asked Jane.
“Yes,” Bryce said. “A rather friendly and peaceful monarchy at that. It’s much easier to buy land from a monarchy than a republic.”
“They don’t mind giving up a chunk of their land?” asked Mai-lin.
“They haven’t even seen this piece of land,” responded Bryce. It’s high in the mountains and cut off from the rest of civilization. Plus, in the current climate, the land’s too cold to grow crops year-round. It’s completely useless to them.”
“Hold on to your seats,” Chris said over the loudspeaker. “I’m pulling up to make the final pass. It’ll be coming up on the right.”
Jane leaned forward to stare out the window just in time to get yanked back into her seat as the plane suddenly rocketed upward. Just as suddenly, they leveled out and then banked hard to the right. As she tried to hold on to her stomach, Jane looked out and saw a ring of mountains completely surrounding a small valley. The valley was just underneath the snow line and had some sparse plantlife dotting the valley floor. Before she could get a better look, the valley disappeared from view as the nose of the plane headed directly for it.
“Here’s the fun part,” Bryce said, giving her a wink.
Jane quickly grabbed onto the handle next to her seat. They must be going over the mountains now, and in order to land in the valley, they would have to... The plane dove down sharply. To Jane, it felt like they weren’t just falling. It felt like they were actually accelerating down towards the earth. She couldn’t help herself. She screamed just as the plane pulled out of the dive and then leveled off. Jane’s eyes were closed, but she felt the familiar bump bump bump of the wheels connecting with a runway.
By the time she opened them again, the plane had come to a stop. Bryce was standing over her with a huge grin on his face. He held out his hand to help her out of her seat, glowing with excitement and pride. “Welcome,” he said dramatically, “to the Valley of Terrene.”
Chapter 12: The Underground
Flora grabbed a stick out of the pile and started whittling away at it using a small metal blade. By now, the motion had become second nature. She hardly even glanced down as her hands transformed the knobby stick into a straight, smooth shaft. As she slit the back of the shaft to form the nock, her mind drifted back to the day she saw Sagerius being arrested just one month ago.
The image of Romulus’ beautiful face, contorted into a mask of cruelty and hatred stuck in Flora’s mind. Or perhaps it was the beautiful face she so admired that was the true mask. After the men left, Flora had run back to her room and immediately told Aster and Kava everything that had happened. They held each other through the night, unable to sleep for fear that guards would burst into their room at any moment. But no guards came that night or the next day. In fact, there was no mention of Sagerius’ arrest at all. But that did not calm Flora down one bit.
It was two days later before they would hear any news. Romulus called together a full assembly of the Institute, the first since Flora’s arrival half a year ago. With the other heads behind him, Romulus sorrowfully announced that Sagerius was ill and had resigned his post, naming Romulus as his successor as both head of the Department of History and as Grandmaster. The crowds cheered his name as he donned the cloak of the Grandmaster and hung the Portkey around his own neck. Flora stared at his lying face as he motioned for the adoring throngs to quiet down, hardly able to contain her anger. A week ago, she too would have believed his lies. But that was when she had thought that Sagerius was a crazy old man. Now, she knew better.
Three days later, the people stopped cheering. Romulus disbanded the Department of History, placing all of its scholars under the Department of Governance. Several scholars grumbled. Scholar Franklin in particular was outraged. He called out Romulus’ actions as a power grab and publicly denounced Romulus for turning his back on the mission of the Institute. The next day, he was arrested along with Scholars Jacob and Miriam who had been close associates of Franklin. The other scholars from the Department of History were conscripted into doing menial labor. One of their tasks had been to expand the jail cells.
“Stop daydreaming. You’re dropping behind,” said Beau, who reached out to grab the wooden shaft from Flora’s hand. He hammered a sharpened metal thimble onto the point and passed it on to the next station.
“I’m not exactly highly motivated,” replied Flora grumpily. Romulus had set them to making arrows for the last couple of weeks. She couldn’t imagine what they were for. All of security was firmly under his control, and with the increased presence of his guards in the hallways, no one in the Institute was making any trouble.
“We don’t want to attract any attention,” reminded Beau. “Just keep working, and try not to frown so much.”
Beau looked truly scared. Flora continued to grumble, but she kept on working. She didn’t want to get Beau in trouble. At the end of they day, they lined up at the entrance to their work area as the guards inspected each of them one by one. The security forces had traded in their white robes for bright crimson ones to highlight their constant presence. When they got to the front of the line, one of the guards rifled through her bag while the other started to pat her down. “Hey, stop it,” she cried. “That tickles.” The guard paid her no attention as she squirmed violently. The first time it happened she had almost been thrown into jail when she accidentally smacked one of the guards in the head, but the guards were used to her now.
Later in the hallway, they ran into another check point with guards. “Really?” she asked. “Why are they always searching us anyways? We got checked for knives and arrows already.”
“They’re not checking for weapons,” whispered Beau. “They’re checking for books, paper, and pens. They’re all restricted items now, as are any other objects associated with the ancients. Soon they’ll be checking everyone??
?s rooms.” Again Beau seemed extra cautious and a bit paranoid. Was he involved in something illegal?
Back in her room, Flora lay on her bed thinking about the snow globe. Luckily, when they had first started body searches, she had left the snow globe in her room. Now she kept it hidden behind the dense growth of plants that Aster, Kava and herself had grown decoratively over their room’s inner wall.
“Whatcha thinking about?” asked Aster.
“Nothing,” she replied. Both Aster and Kava knew about the snow globe and everything else. But Flora didn’t want to talk about it right now. She stood up and walked over to the hiding spot. She carefully reached behind the knot of vines and leaves and pulled out the globe, watched the white flakes swirl inside the glassy confines. Jane Ingram. Her dreams were becoming stronger and more frequent. They didn’t even require blackouts anymore, coming for her even in her regular sleep. She hefted the globe in her hand. Its weight somehow felt familiar, and yet it was nowhere to be found in Jane’s memories.
“Hey, can you do me a favor?” asked Kava. Flora hastily placed the globe back into its hiding spot and turned around.
“Sure, what do you need?” she asked. It was rare for Kava to speak out loud and even more rare for her to ask for help.
“I promised Bunsen that I’d help him pick some Jenka fruits for Devindry tomorrow afternoon out in the Glasshouse,” Kava started. “But my shift got changed, and now I need to go to work tomorrow afternoon at two. I know tomorrow’s your day off, but it sounded like Bunsen really needed the help.” Kava spoke the last few words slowly, as if emphasizing each word.
“Yeah, okay,” Flora said, wondering why Kava was acting so strangely. “No problem.”
“Two o’clock sharp, okay?” Kava repeated.
“Yeah, I got it,” Flora said.
************
“Hey Bunsen,” Flora called out as she walked toward the field of Jenke plants that were nestled in the northeast corner of the Glasshouse.
“Hey there Flora,” Bunsen replied glancing around nervously. He riffled his stubby fingers together as he spoke. Perhaps his fingers missed holding his potted plant. After a potentially disastrous run-in with the guards, Bunsen now kept Bonsai in his room. The guards had grown arrogant and malicious, and Bunsen made an easy target. “Thanks for, uh, helping me out.” He handed her a basket to fill. “Why don’t you start picking fruit on the far side?” he suggested pointing off towards a secluded corner of the field.
“Sure thing, Mr. Boss-man,” Flora replied quizzically. She grabbed the basket and looked inside. There were some blades of grass on the bottom arranged to form the word “Quiet.” She started to speak, but Bunsen had already turned away and was rushing into the field.
Jenke plants looked like purple corn stalks, growing to about five feet tall. The stalks were planted one foot apart, giving Flora just enough room to walk between them, though she had to swim her way through the abundant leaves that filled her vision. Flora began trudging through the field towards the corner that Bunsen had pointed her towards. Occasionally she needed to jump up so that she could see over the field and get her bearings. Flora sighed. The world must look so different to tall people. She was sure that Stalk would laugh if he could see her now.
Once she got to the general location, she bent down to examine the Jenke plants. The fruit of the Jenke plant was yellow in color and about the size of Flora’s fist. The fruit itself was fibrous in texture and a bit sour, but it had excellent nutritional value, so the Institute chefs ended up using them quite often. They grew in bunches near the base of the plant. Flora noticed that the fruit weren’t quite ripe yet even though Jenke fruited in the winter. She moved onto the next plant. The fruit here was just yellow enough to pick. She carefully removed the entire bunch from the stalk and dropped it into her basket.
“Hello child,” a woman’s voice said. Flora almost dropped her basket in surprise. “Don’t get up, just keep picking fruit, dear.” Flora looked around her. She saw a bulky form hunched over about fifteen feet away. The mysterious figure continued picking fruit and didn’t look up. “It’s better if we aren’t seen talking,” she continued. “But it’s about time we had a chat now, isn’t it, child?”
“Master Devindry?” Flora asked, finally recognizing the voice.
“Yes, child,” Devindry replied. “We have much to talk about. But first, I must ask you a question.” She asked in a low voice, “Did you speak with Sagerius before...before he was taken?”
Flora hesitated. Bunsen and Kava wouldn’t have set her up. She had to trust that. “Yes, I was there the night he was taken.”
“And he told you about his dreams then, about the ancients?” Devindry prompted.
“Yes,” Flora said, unwilling to elaborate.
“Sagerius wasn’t crazy,” Devindry said. “He was gifted. His dreams were real to him, the people real as well. He told me once that it was like having ghosts living within his head. You know what I mean.”
It wasn’t a question, but Flora nodded. Bunsen must have told Devindry about her dreams. And just how many other people knew?
“Sagerius believed desperately that we needed to find a way to restore the global ecosystem, to breathe life back into the Barren Lands outside,” Devindry said. “And of course, we believed it too.”
Flora understood. She wanted to complete Jane’s dreams. She didn’t want to let her down. “Don’t you still believe it?”
“Of course, my dear,” Devindry said. “But Romulus has been convincing people that we are chasing a false dream. He has been softly insinuating that there is no way to use our genetic research to recover the Barren Lands. And Sagerius himself had begun to act more and more distracted. It did not inspire confidence.”
“So you and the other department heads let Romulus arrest Sagerius and dismantle the Department of History?” asked Flora, anger creeping into her voice.
“We didn’t have much of a choice,” Devindry replied. “By the time we found out what he was planning, Sagerius was in prison, and armed guards were stationed throughout the Institute. His men are loyal to him, and as long as he has control of the guards, he has control of the Institute. We’re certainly not going to take up arms against our own. But believe me dear, we have not given up”
“Then what are you going to do?” asked Flora.
“What we must do now is safeguard the histories,” Devindry explained. “Even as Romulus moves to confiscate all the ancient texts, a number of us work to hide them from him.”
“Why does he want the ancient texts so badly?” asked Flora.
“Sagerius’ authority comes out of respect for the histories and our original purpose. Romulus has convinced his followers that the histories are just old legends, and that we shouldn’t let them guide our future. In fact, he has accused Sagerius of lying about the validity of the histories in order to maintain control of the Institute.” Devindry’s voice had been rising steadily. She caught herself and returned to a whisper. “This is how Romulus has claimed power. If we can prove that the ancient texts are true, that our purpose here is to recover the Barren Lands, then Romulus will lose his control over the guards, and the Head Council will return to power.”
“But the texts are true. We can just show them to everyone and bring Sagerius back,” Flora said.
“Not yet,” replied Devindry. “The texts are too disjointed to make a clear picture. Few truly understand what they mean. And Romulus is too strong. We must carefully build our arguments and wait for the right opportunity.”
Flora sighed. She wasn’t good at waiting. “So what do you want from me?” she asked.
“With the loss of Sagerius, we have lost our visionary,” Devindry started.
“And?” Flora asked nervously.
“Sagerius and I have been friends for a long time,” she added. “Long enough for me to know that he was guided more by his dreams than by any of the texts in the vault.” Flora glanced up, making eye contact for the fir
st time. “Yes,” Devindry continued. “I believe your dreams are similar and can help guide us, help us understand the past and what we must do now.”
“But I have no idea what we should do now,” Flora protested.
“We don’t expect you to, dear,” Devindry responded. “We just want you to write your dreams down for us. We have volumes and volumes of ancient texts, and yet none of them really provide an accurate picture of the past and how to fix the world. Sagerius’ dreams guided him and gave him knowledge, but he never wrote anything down. Now with Sagerius imprisoned, we have nothing to guide us, nothing, except for your dreams.”
“But I don’t have anything to write with,” Flora said. “Romulus has restricted access to pen and paper.”
“Leave that to us, dear,” Devindry said. “Our underground movement is silent out of necessity, but we have our resources. I just need you to avoid attracting attention right now by being obedient and quiet. That means you do everything Romulus and the guards ask you to. Can you do that?”
Well, Beau would certainly appreciate her newfound obedience.
“Yes, Master Devindry,” she said out loud. “I’ll be good.”
************
When Flora returned to her room that night, she found a crimson-garbed guard about to enter her room. “Hey, that’s my room,” she cried, running towards them. By the time she reached her room, they were already inside. “What are you doing in here?” she asked.
“We’re checking all the rooms for contraband,” the guard said. He began sifting through Aster’s things.