Chapter 3-
“Where is my tea?” bellowed the brick wall of a man as he stood just off to the side of his desk, hands fasted to his sides, glaring impatiently at me as I entered his office.
He had been blowing hot air since I had rounded the corner at the far end of the hallway which led to his office. That was when I heard him rant and rave. Not just about the tea, but every other bothersome issue that kept him from living a life of ease. I had been on one of the floors below us, seven floors below us to be exact. And who knows? He could have been going on like this since I’d left him, several minutes earlier. His face certainly hinted at that theory, all blotchy and the skin stretched so tight on his bones. It was a question of which would give in first, the skin or the bones?
Mr. Rockthorn was an attractive and dignified man under normal circumstances. Today apparently didn’t qualify as normal. If I hadn’t known this man for the past several months, during which I’ve been his intern. I might have been frightened of his loud tirade. Some of which was directed at me. Though I don’t think my speed, or lack of it, at bringing him his hot beverage was the catalyst to today’s dramatics.
I should be pleased that I’m even allowed such an honor as to being appointed this man’s right hand. Well, that’s what I thought this position called for me to be. I wasn’t his right hand. I wasn’t even his right foot. Maybe on my best day, I was that fourth toe, the one next to the almost obsolete pinkie toe. Not as expendable as the toe next to me, but close enough. The only talent that made me relevant at all in Mr. Rockthorn’s world was that I was the bearer of fresh hot tea.
“I have your tea right here. It’s not your usual, but they were out of the packets. So I made you one of the organic teas.”
I walked over to his desk, the tray of tea and snacks arranged in a perfect pattern. My heels didn’t make a sound as I tried to glide across the floor. Tried, is the emphasized word here. I’ve only recently begun wearing them as part of my grown-up look which I felt complemented my grown-up job.
I set down the tray on the far left corner of his desk. He glared down at it as if what he saw was a pile of garbage scrapes lined artfully on a tray. He could not have looked more uninterested in consuming anything on that tray.
I’d like to think that under different circumstances I would have liked Mr. Rockthorn. He was after all the Grande Regent of our community, the highest level of influence and success anyone could hope to acquire. He was once a great visionary, working side by side with my own mother as they improved our lives with their endeavors. Then the previous Grande Regent, Ms. Trent, had unexpectedly resigned, leaving the position open to quickly be filled by Mr. Rockthorn. Under other circumstances I would have looked up to him, maybe even shaped my life after his. He was an influential man, a talented visionary. If I didn’t see him as I do now, I think I would have been led to believe that he was the epitome of humanity.
Right now I was seriously on the verge of hating him.
“You know I can’t stand that organic garbage.” He continued grumbling, taking his seat behind his oversized desk. “It tastes like dirt diluted with warm water. I want the packets,” he demanded.
I tried to be diplomatic. He was my boss after all, and someone I should respect. Unfortunately, that required a conscious effort on my part.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I was not sorry. “The next shipment won’t be here until this afternoon. I’ll make you another cup of tea then. But for right now, this is all we have.”
I took the cup and saucer into my hands, holding them out like an offering, a smile plastered unevenly on my face. Presenting it to him, I continued. “It’s good. You should at least try some”. I actually preferred the organic to the packets. At first it did taste a little odd, but after awhile I found I preferred it over the other.
“It’s barbaric,” he shouted at me, “Disgusting muck only fit for animals to consume. I’ll not put that vile stuff in my body.”
But he was more than willing to put other vile things in his body. The man was so pumped up on drugs and every legal medication available. I wondered if there was any part of his system untainted. His blood and body, so polluted by our modern conveniences, very little of his person was not synthetic.
There might have been a time when I would have thought just like Mr. Rockthorn. And maybe without my Nani’s influence I would have. It was a strange double consciousness that made me feel torn between two worlds. Though I appreciated the accomplishments of my people, I questioned our disregard for the other creator’s accomplishments. In our ongoing pursuit, we stamped out any need for the other and its works.
But the old world had let us down, so many years ago. And the world that man-made was forced to rise up so we could survive. The other creator and its world could not be trusted or controlled. It was said to have been dangerous and unpredictable. In our world there was nothing we could not control. And it comforted us and kept us within our own walls.
“Is there anything else I can get for you then?” I placed the cup and saucer back on the tray. I would drink it later, on my own time so as not to waste it.
Whatever words Mr. Rockthorn was about to say, died before they ever left his mouth.
Zeke, one of the officers several levels in status bellow Mr. Rockthorn, stumbled unannounced through Mr. Rockthorn’s door, falling all over himself in his haste. His gangly body was still ripening into manhood. Yet there was an aura of authority that made him seem older, more mature than I even though we were the same age.
“What is it now? You know I’ve had it up to here with complaints today,” he groused at the young man as he floundered across the office floor toward us.
Me too, I whispered inside my head.
“Mr. Rockthorn, you need to come see this.” He sounded out of breath, overwrought by some situation as he came to stand over Mr. Rockthorn’s desk. Pressing his hands on the top of the desk he continued. “They’re bringing him through the gates as we speak. You need to come down to the Medical Ward and tell us what you want to do with this man.”
Mr. Rockthorn stared hard at Zeke, stretching his own hands across his oversized office desk. “Are you telling me someone was able to exit our borders?”
Zeke shook his head hard. I thought his brains might pop out of his ears. “No!” he shouted. Then looked shamed as he realized he was speaking to our Grande Regent. I would never have been so bold as to raise my voice, especially not to Mr. Rockthorn. But Zeke was obviously running on nervous energy, his brain cells so shot he wasn’t thinking clearly.
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” Zeke paused. Maybe to take a much need breath or he liked to play the dramatics, “They found someone on the outside. He’s not one of us. He came from out there.” Zeke emphasized the words out there, knowing that we all understood what those words meant; beyond our borders. “We don’t know anything about him except that he was found injured near the northern wall. They’re bringing him to the Medical Ward for testing to see if we can find anything on his origins.”
“Who authorized his clearance through the gates?” Mr. Rockthorn spoke through thin, tight lips. “As you said, we know nothing about this man. He could endanger us all. Who let him through?”
“I did,” Zeke answered, not appearing to be wary of admitting such a breach in policy. “He was injured, sir. Would you have rather I left him out there to die?”
I saw on Mr. Rockthorn’s face the answer. Yes. He was not one of us so it would be easy to put distance and apathy between this unknown man and ourselves. I didn’t think I could have been so cold. But Mr. Rockthorn’s job required that he make tough decisions. It was for the community, not the individual.
“It’s too late now. Again, as you’ve said, he is on his way to the Medical Ward. But he is to be watched carefully. I will not allow this unknown man to risk the safety of our people. Do not look upon him as an injured man, but as a potential threat to us all.”
“I
understand, sir.” Zeke straightened, becoming a composed figure of authority. I found that ability to command attention inspiring. I only wished that I could pull off such a presence to others. But I commanded no one’s attention and few would ever listen to me as they did these two figures.
“Come along, Ms. Forest,” I heard him speak my name. “You can see for yourself the tasks I am asked to deal with on a daily basis.”
Mr. Rockthorn,” I hedged, finding myself fidgeting with the sleeve of my blouse. “Are you sure you mean for me to go? I don’t really like to visit the Medical Ward.”
“Nonsense,” he barked. Standing up from his chair, he glared down at me from his impressive height. “Is this not what your job description includes?”
I didn’t answer. He continued.
“You are learning the inner workings of our political system absorbing and learning through a hands-on approach. This is the less glamorous part of the job. But we are here to keep order and safety for our people. So do you want to get a real look at our system or do you want to carry around trays of tea?”
He folded his massive arms across his chest, waiting for my answer.
I wanted my answer to be neither. Neither did I want to go down to the Medical Ward and see our system acted out on this unknown man. Nor did I want to carry around trays of tea to unappreciative men. But that wasn’t one of the options.
“Of course, I’ll go.” I capitulated, I had to.
“Good, then it’s settled. Call downstairs for a vehicle and let us put this matter behind us quickly.”
I took my full tea tray and exited Mr. Rockthorn’s office, leaving Zeke and Mr. Rockthorn behind to discuss matters of interest that I was not yet privy to.
We rode over to the Medical Ward in silence, Zeke looking nervous, ready to jump out of his skin at the slightest impromptu movement from either of us. Mr. Rockthorn simply looked perturbed and agitated. But he had worn that expression all day. It was nothing I hadn’t already seen. My expression looked….well I’m not sure, but I can say that it wasn’t a contented look.
When we arrived, all seemed calm and serene. No one appeared to be in a panic that someone from the outside had breached our walls. Perhaps they didn’t yet know.
We walked through the lobby of the Medical Ward. Not a soul stopped us as we continued down the white washed sterol hallway to a set of heavy steel doors. Mr. Rockthorn pressed his thumb against a panel, the doors sliding open to allow us entry.
Mr. Rockthorn took the lead, I just a few steps behind him, Zeke bringing up the rear. We advanced through to yet another beautifully pristine hallway. We continued. Judging by the distance and length of time we had been walking, I guessed that we were likely deep in the center of the Medical Ward building. A structure so massive it was only surpassed by the government building we had come from.
Again we were stopped by another set of steel doors. This time it required a finger pad and combination code to access. I was not thrilled to be asked to accompany these two. But then the thought of serving one more cup of tea cleared my mind and obliterated any thoughts about asking to return to my teapot post.
I was thinking absently about how much more comfortable my flat shoes would be on my feet than heels. And as I filed through the steel doors, a horrendous noise cut through the unspoiled silence like a merciless knife. It stopped us all in our tracks. To say that that sound had come from a human may have been a stretch of the imagination. It was feral, animalistic and it scared me nearly to death.
“I thought you said it was down,” Mr. Rockthorn blasted Zeke with a vicious glare, his blue eyes like ice chips.
We stood motionless in the hallway, listening to the unrelenting anger in that disembodied voice. Was it a shout, a cry for help? Or was it a warning to anyone who got in its way?
Zeke furrowed his thick eyebrows, looking to Mr. Rockthorn and then to me. He stopped on my face, a look of concern flashing within his brown eyes. “I thought he was too far out of it. Maybe she should go back.”
“No,” Mr. Rockthorn said aggressively, taking my arm and forcing us to continue down the hallway toward the voice. “This is exactly what she needs to see. The beasts of the old world are not to be shied away from. They are chaos and it is our job to put them in their place.”
He jerked my arm roughly, squeezing my tender flesh. It stung, but I didn’t cry out. I couldn’t. He wouldn’t have heard me, not when he was on his prophetic platform. Nothing could stop or drown out his voice.
“Do you understand, Ms. Forest, why it is imperative that we keep to the order of control; that we do not give in to fanciful ideas? Your grandmother had such ideas didn’t she?” He wrenched my arm again, nearly pulling it out of its socket. I couldn’t help but wince. He didn’t seem to notice or care as he continued.
“That out there in the wilds,” he spat out the word like it was a curse word, “was better than what we could provide in here. She was part of the problem, taking up with those radical thinkers, with their heads in the clouds, daydreaming about an imaginary world that does not exist. I hope that this experience will open your eyes to the truth.” It would.
We neared the room where they were keeping the unknown man. I could feel Zeke hovering just behind me. Because of his lower status, Zeke was not allowed to contradict the Grande Regent. But I suspected he wanted to. I felt he and I were cut from the same cloth. Both of us had to support the traditions of our people because of whom our parents are. They are affluent in our society and well loved for their contributions to our world. If anyone suspected that we might side against the masses and support unpopular views, we could easily destroy their credibility, shame them beyond recognition.
I didn’t appreciate slander against my Nani and I felt that Zeke thought the same.
“Let us see what the outside has wrought,” said Mr. Rockthorn as he punched in more codes into a wall panel off to the side of the rooms opaque glass doors.
I could hear the bellowing coming from inside that room; had heard it as we had drawn closer to its source. As I stood on the opposite side of that door, I realized that Mr. Rockthorn’s bellows earlier today were pitiful children’s cries compared with the unknown voice on the other side.
“Lora,” I heard Zeke say my name. And I could read every intended meaning by his tone. He didn’t want me to go in. He was afraid for me, of what I might see. But I never wanted to be sheltered. I had to go in, just to prove that I was not afraid of the outside like so many others. That other world I had only heard about through my Nani.
“I’m going in Zeke,” I told him with firm resolve coating my voice, belying my trembling nerves.