Ephemeral: Chapter 27

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

As an experienced horse-breaker, Aaric Alden was not typically given to panic. He badly wanted to get to the cells as quickly as possible, but he knew the sight of an Almitian running headlong down the steps on some security monitor would sound an alarm. With agonizing self-control, he walked calmly and deliberately down the steps. Truth be told, even with his orthodic he could not have gone much faster.

After winding his way down three flights of stairs without concealment, he soon realized even with his measured steps, he was about as secure as a fish in a barrel. Each footfall echoed through the stairwell, potentially alerting anyone below. I don't care what Raven says, he thought as he gripped the cold metal railing. If a guard catches me in here when there's a perfectly good lift available, I'm bound to raise suspicion. There must be a better way to get to the cells.

Aaric came to the next landing and spied a framed map hanging on the wall beside a fire extinguisher. The map highlighted all the emergency exits in the great cylindrical building. But what interested Aaric most were not the escape routes, but a small room at the end of the fifth level labeled, “Janitorial Supplies.” A brief smile curled the corners of his lips. There's my cover!

Aaric came to the fifth floor and opened the stairwell door a crack. He couldn't see any guards nor any obvious security cameras. He slid through the entrance and quietly shut the stairwell door behind him. At the end of the hall he could clearly read the janitorial supplies sign. Trying not to seem conspicuous, he walked down the hall, then turned about at the last minute to try the door.

It was locked.

Shoot! Aaric frowned. He bent down to look at the keyhole. I wonder if I could jimmy it with my pocket knife. He wanted to look over his shoulder, but knew that might look suspicious in case there were hidden cameras about. So he whistled softly as he drew out his pocket knife and plied the narrowest blade into the small opening. He had no idea what he was doing, but became so engrossed in this endeavor that he fairly jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“What are you doin' there, son?”

Aaric whirled about to see a short, middle-aged man with a thick salt and pepper mustache wearing a gray uniform and blue cap. He stood akimbo and looked at Aaric with a raised eyebrow. “You the new guy on Elpis-setting shift?”

Aaric tried to rein in his galloping heartbeat. He did not like to lie and was no good at it, besides. So he told the truth. “I was trying to find a uniform,” he said.

“Didn't they give you one when you arrived?”

“No, sir.”

The older man's mustache twitched. He sighed as he drew out a large key ring from one of his many pockets and mumbled something about how the folks in HR were clever with paperwork but clueless with practicalities. “Didn't even give out a basic uniform! How can we do a professional job if we're not treated like professionals?” He unlocked the door and held it open. “There should be one in about your size on the shelf on the left. If you want to place your personal belongings in a cubby hole, I think there's a spare lock on top of those bins of detergent. Do you know where to start?”

“No, sir,” Aaric said honestly.

“Well, being the new guy, I guess you'll have to work your way up from the bottom.” The custodian's mustache thinly veiled his grin.

Aaric didn't get the joke.

“The cells!” the man explained. “They're on the first level. You get yourself that floor scrubber and don't skimp cleaning the corners. And don't forget to use the attachable bin to collect the office trash. Got it?”

Aaric could hardly believe his ears. Here he was, getting outfitted and ordered to go to the very place he sought! He felt like raising his hands in silent hallelujah, but he restrained himself. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. After you finish the cells, do the lobby and the first two floors. Then you get a mid-Elpis-setting break for eight degrees. Then it's up four more floors. I take care of the rest.”

“Where shall I dump my trash bin?” Aaric asked, noting that the boxy white container did not seem to have much capacity.

The custodian clapped his hand to his forehead. “They didn't give you a map neither!? What's the administration coming to?” He pointed to a metal square fused to the wall at the end of the corridor about a meter long and a meter high. “That's the trash chute. There's one on each level. Leads directly down to the trucks outside to be taken to the dump. And this here's the key to unlock it.” He held up a silver key for illustration and placed it in Aaric's hand. “Just remember to return your machine, your key, and the uniform here before you leave. Questions?”

“No, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Very well. Get changed and hop to it!”

#

Aaric practically floated down the lift feeling much more secure in his gray and blue janitorial disguise. He could not have asked for a better excuse to go to the cell level. Thank you, Lord, he breathed. When the lift reached the bottom floor, the doors pulled apart with a creaking sound which made Aaric grit his teeth. He momentarily stiffened behind the bulky floor scrubber at the sight of several cell guards operating multiple screens at a long desk. But the guards paid him no mind; no one even made eye contact. He smiled to himself. Hidden in plain sight.

Aaric pushed the floor scrubber off the lift and hit the “on” button. The machine whirred and hummed as he guided it with surprising ease and precision over the white-tiled floor. The guards didn't appear to notice when he pushed the machine more slowly when nearing the computer screens.

Aaric pulled his cap lower on his face to mask his inquiring eyes. From his position, he could see the Elders onscreen, divided from one another in solitary, sparsely-furnished cells. His hackles rose at the sight of his father kneeling on the cold stone floor, his head bowed in prayer. Other Elders paced to and fro in their eight by eight cubes or wept silently on their cots. Then his blood boiled as his eyes fell on a woman with white braided hair and a blue bruise swelling on the side of her face. Mother Alden!

“Hey you, there!” called a guard.

Aaric looked away from the screen and gripped the scrubber's handle in a strangle hold. By some miracle, he managed to keep both fear and indignation out of his voice. “Ma'am?”

The guard put her hands on her hips. “Why are you staring at those Almitians?”

“Sorry, ma'am.” Aaric dropped his gaze to his brown boots. “It's not every day another tribe's leaders get locked up, ma'am.”

“The prisoners do not exist for your entertainment,” she said. “You're paid to clean, not to sight-see.”

“No, ma'am.” He shifted his foot against the orthodic in his boot.

“Well, go on now! That cell block floor needs attention – cleaning, I mean.”

“Yes, ma'am. I'm on it.”

The guard nodded, then tapped her flashing armband. “Yes, Commander Ballitor?”

“We have a possible situation.” The commander's voice sounded urgent. “I sent two guards to the upper level to check out a disturbance we heard during the trial. They reported finding a foreigner by His Eminence's office and were escorting her to the cells when she started to resist.”

Aaric's ears perked up. Surely they're not talking about Clara?

The commander continued. “Neither soldier is answering his communicator. And now the desk's silent alarm has been activated. I want you to send up all guards you can spare to meet me at His Eminence's office. Be on the lookout – the perpetrator is hostile and possibly armed.”

“Yes, sir!” The guard turned to a nearby soldier. “Stephens, you stay and keep guard over the prisoners.”

Stephens – a slightly heavier guard – nodded, took off his helmet, and sat in front of the prison monitors.

“Everyone else,” called the leader, “follow me!”

Aaric could hardly believe his good fortune as all but one guard filed out of the room and entered the lift. This was an opportunity he could not afford to lose. But what do I do with the guard? He drummed his thumbs against the floor scrubber's handle and decided to do the first thing that came to mind. Turning his floor scrubber back on to muffle his movements, he reached into his pants for his pocket knife. He ran a finger over it to make sure none of the blades protruded. Then taking careful aim, he let the small blunt object fly.

The weapon hit the back of the guard's head. He fell off his chair onto the floor, completely unconscious.

Aaric ran to him and placed a hand on his neck to ascertain he was still breathing. Then he picked up his knife from the floor, placed it back into his pocket, and studied the monitors. There were easily over a hundred buttons on the complicated keyboard. Aaric's heart raced as he tried to figure out which ones would free the Eldership. He pushed one – and opened the door to an empty cell. He pushed another. This made a red light flash onscreen and ask for a pass code.

Aaric started to sweat.

Then he noticed a piece of paper sitting near the keyboard. In hurried cursive, it read, “Alden, Magdalena. 02487.”

Aaric punched in the appropriate digits and saw the photopetrium door slide upward in Mother Alden's cell.

YES!

Here, he felt torn. Should he go help Mother Alden or stay at the computer and try to free his father and the other Elders? His eyes scanned the desk for a prison roster. He found none. He clicked on a couple files in search of something connecting prisoners to their cell numbers; he didn't have time for trial and error.

The guard stirred on the floor with a slight groan. That made the decision for Aaric.

With a heavy heart at the thought of leaving the other Almitians imprisoned, he ran gingerly toward Mother Alden's cell. He paused in the doorway, shocked she had not even raised her head though her cell door stood open.

“Mother Alden! It’s me!” Aaric said as he hurried to his grandmother.

Mother Alden slowly lifted her chin and squinted upward with one good eye in his direction; the other had swollen black and blue from Captain Karnak’s blow. “Aaric?” she said in a tired voice. “What on Elpis 7 are you doing here?”

“I’m setting you free!” Aaric grabbed her hand and lifted her to her feet, then turned around and looked out from the doorway. The corridor lay quiet. “The coast is clear!”

Mother Alden moved slowly as if in a dream. She put a hand to her head. “Did … did the Elders send you?”

“Not exactly …” Aaric said. “But there’s no time to explain. The guards will be here soon. Come on!”

He took six steps from the cell door before he realized Mother Alden had not accompanied him. He whirled about and felt astounded to find she had returned to her cot. “Mother Alden! We've got to go!”

Mother Alden looked up at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “I'm not leaving this cell, Aaric.”

Aaric glanced back at the lift doors — still shut for the moment. “But you've got to! This is a limited-time opportunity!”

“Ah, the urgency of youth,” Mother Alden sighed. “Aaric, you’ve let your feelings dominate your mind; you're not thinking!”

Aaric started to protest, but she held up her bony hand for silence. “Consider, Aaric. What will happen when the guards discover me gone?”

Aaric glanced again at the lift doors. “They’ll come to our clan looking for you, I guess. Which is why I want to take you to the Silva tribe where you'll be safe.”

“Safe?” Mother Alden mused. “Safe from what, exactly?”

Aaric's brow furrowed. “From an unjust death, of course!”

Mother Alden cocked her head. “Many who die unjustly are justified in the end,” she said.

“Yes, but …”

“And what do you think Captain Karnak will do to our clan when he cannot find me – an escaped convict?” Mother Alden asked. “What would you do in his shoes?”

Aaric wrung his hands together. He did not like speculating on a madman's reasoning. It was almost an admission of madness in himself.

“Well?” Mother Alden pressed.

Aaric clenched his jaw. “I’d probably attack the clan so no one would dare defy me again.”

“Precisely,” Mother Alden said with a nod.

“But Captain Karnak means to attack our clan anyway regardless of what happens to you! So why can't I save you now?”

Mother Alden looked at Aaric straight in the eye. “I'm already safe, Aaric, because I do not fear death. Whether by the hand of man or the passage of time, I will die at some point. But if I try to save my own neck, I may hasten the destruction of others. I could never live with myself after that. Besides, by keeping Karnak focused on me and the Eldership, perhaps we can give you more time.”

“Time for what?” Aaric's eyes burned.

“For you to come up with a more thoughtful course of action.” Mother Alden frowned.

Aaric shifted his weight from one boot to the other. “Our original plan was for Clara, Raven, and I to remove the Fire Stone from Karnak during the Elpis-setting recess.”

“Then why are you here?!” Mother Alden asked. “Shouldn't you be helping those women?!”

Aaric, struck with the obvious, flushed and felt a fool. “We did not expect Captain Karnak to sentence you so quickly. I saw him strike you – then saw nothing else. But if I leave you now, I may never see you again …” Aaric’s voice broke as this possibility loomed dark and threatening like the storm brewing in his own eyes. He sat on the cot next to his grandmother and buried his face in his hands. “Forgive me. I ... I've failed. And I've ruined the mission! How could I have been so stupid?!”

Mother Alden laid a thin hand on Aaric’s shuddering shoulder. “You have not failed to love, Aaric. And I am proud of your courage. We need only redirect it to a more helpful course.”

At that moment, they heard the lift doors open with their distant creak.

Adrenaline shot through Aaric's veins, making him forget his handicap; he felt like he could sprint a mile. He stood, procured his pocket knife and held it ready to hurl at the first sight of a guard. But it was not the cadence of heavy marching boots which echoed against the corridor's stone walls. The gait sounded tentative and erratic like a filly wearing horseshoes for the first time.

Aaric plastered himself beside the doorway and leaned forward to glimpse the oncoming stranger. “Clara!” He exhaled in relief, but concern followed as he saw Clara's tear-streaked face. He feared for Raven. “What happened?”

“Oh, Aaric!” she said. “It’s all gone wrong! Elder Proditor betrayed us! And now Raven’s killed Captain Karnak and taken the Fire Stone for herself!”

Aaric stood stunned into silence; this was worse than anything he'd thought possible.

“What do we do?” Clara asked mournfully. “Raven isn't herself, and she knows all our plans!”

Mother Alden rose from her seat with a strict countenance. “Sit,” she ordered.

Trembling, Clara joined Aaric on the cot.

“If Raven has already killed for the Fire Stone, we must move quickly.” Mother Alden took off her green-jeweled ring and gave it to Aaric. “Take our clan heirloom to the Silva tribe and trade it for theirs. You must use it to destroy the Fire Stone before Raven destroys our colony.”

Aaric tensed. “I’ve never been to the Silva tribe. How do we get there?”

“Look to the ancient forest path — the one that leads straight up into the mountains. Don't diverge from it. Their settlement is deep in the forest among the tallest trees. And don't worry; they'll find you before you find them.”

“How do we get to the forest from here?” Clara asked. “I'm sure Raven's got the whole building on alert by now.”

“There’s a trash chute at the end of this hallway,” Aaric said. “It leads to the dump trucks underneath the cells.”

“That's right,” Mother Alden confirmed. “They always run after Elpis-setting. And the Agilis dump borders Silva territory ...”

Their heads turned in unison as the distant lift doors creaked open again. This time they heard the guards' muffled astonishment at the sight of their unconscious comrade lying on the floor.

Clara and Aaric looked up at Mother Alden with tight throats. They needed to depart now or not at all.

Mother Alden smiled, her own eyes glistening “Go, my dears. With all my love and the good will of Almitas. Godspeed!”

Aaric rose and kissed his grandmother on her silky white hair. Clara took Mother Alden's hand in both her own and squeezed.

Then they left the older woman in the cell alone with her prayers and tears.

#

The trash chute lay at the end of the hall as Mother Alden had said. But Mother Alden could not have known it was locked. Aaric fiddled in his pockets for the silver chute key, but his fingers felt all thumbs.

“Hurry, Aaric!” Clara said. “It won't take them long to find us!”

Aaric finally found the key and put it into the keyhole, but it refused to turn! Aaric felt like swearing. The head custodian must have accidentally given him the wrong key. Aaric grabbed his pocket knife instead, flipped out a screwdriver attachment, and began twisting against the chute screws – one at each corner.

The sound of marching boots echoed down the corridor.

Clara shifted from one foot to the other. “Aaric ...”

“I know!” he snapped. “These screws are tight!”

The marching intensified then ceased as the guards paused at the opposite end of the cell block. Then Aaric heard that foreboding, electrifying hum that made him sweat afresh.

“Halt, you two!” the soldiers shouted, aiming their staffs at the intruders.

Aaric ignored them and tried to focus on loosening the last screw; his hands were shaking.

“I said halt!” the guard repeated.

Clara slowly raised her hands above her head and stood in front of Aaric, her back to the chute.

The moment the final screw clinked against the ground, Aaric pulled the metal square from the wall, grabbed Clara by her waist, and tossed her through the dark opening. She gasped in surprise and disappeared as the chute covering clattered noisily against the floor.

“Wait!” the guards yelled, now pelting toward the escapees, their boots squeaking against the floor.

Aaric turned to dive in after Clara. He'd managed to get his top half through the opening when he heard a staff blast in his direction, the force propelling him forward. The chute door snapped shut behind him and he slid down, down, down the rabbit hole. It was not a pleasant descent. He wrinkled his nose at the acrid stench and tried not to imagine what grime and slime coated his clothing as he slid/fell down the metallic incline. He landed abruptly in a trash heap which lay in the center of a dumpster.

“Aaric!” Clara exhaled from a few feet away – covered with brown and green stains. “You're alive!.. And you're burning!” She pointed to his left boot, the sole of which still smoldered. The smell of burnt leather and plastic wafted through the air. Compared to all the other icky smells in the dumpster, it was relatively inoffensive.

Aaric hit the embers until they died, then leaned back and sighed. “That was close. That last blast melted my orthodic!” Aaric pulled out the shapeless mass of plastic from his ragged boot, slipped his foot back inside, and stood up a little off-balance.

“Glad they didn't blast your other foot,” Clara said.

“Me too.” He hobbled over bags of trash and discarded boxes to the edge of the dumpster, then reached overhead and pulled himself up to peek over the edge. He quickly dropped back down, lifted a nearby sheet of cardboard, and gestured for Clara to hide under it.

Clara scrambled as quickly and quietly as she could under the makeshift refuge. Aaric slid underneath it too and held his breath.

They heard footsteps.

Then felt a door slam.

An engine rumbled to life, making the dumpster walls vibrate.

“We're in a truck?!” Clara said in surprise.

Aaric nodded as the great machine lurched forward under its heavy load.

“This is wonderful! We'll be far away in no time!”

Aaric smiled and opened his mouth to say something when all of a sudden, the vehicle stopped.

Aaric heard the driver lower his cabin window.

“What’s the problem, officer? I gotta git this load to the dump.”

Aaric heard a blast staff hum. “All exits from this building are now closed. We're trying to locate two outsiders.”

“Outsiders?!” the driver exclaimed. “What kind of outsiders?”

“An Almitian and a visitor from Earth. We need to check your cargo before you leave the premises.”

“Well, go ahead if you want to. But you may want to pinch your nose.”

Aaric's gut clenched. He had no idea where his pocket knife was; perhaps he'd lost it in his trip through the chute. Could he use a piece of scrap metal to knock out the guard if need be? He shifted his position to get a better view from underneath the cardboard, but froze at the resulting noise. Thankfully, the driver had not turned off his engine yet.

Booted footsteps marched toward the back of the truck and climbed a metal ladder. Then there was silence as the guard perused the truck's contents. He even switched off his staff and started poking at various places in the trash heap. Aaric and Clara did not breathe.

Please don't let him find us … Aaric prayed.

Just then, the guard's communicator came to life. “Attention all Agilis city guards! This is Commander Ballitor. Report immediately to the Grand Assembly Hall for an emergency meeting. Top priority.”

The guard switched off his armband, shrugged, and retreated down the ladder. Aaric and Clara let out their breath silently.

“Find any passengers?” the driver asked with a hint of amusement in his tone. “Other than the rats, I mean.”

Aaric felt Clara go rigid beside him at the mention of rodents.

The guard ignored the jest. “I've been summoned to the Grand Assembly Hall,” he said importantly.

“So I'm free to go, then?”

The guard hesitated, then finally said, “You may proceed.”

The engine revved up again and the vehicle pulled forward. Aaric lifted the cardboard ceiling higher to capture fresh air and make their smelly trip more bearable. But neither he nor Clara spoke a word until the sounds of the city faded well behind them.

So what did you think?

I kinda like this chapter because I think it’s important for Aaric to grow a bit too, not just Clara. Any thoughts? Tell me in the comments below!