The Past Read online

The internal conflict great. Whilst friend is not a concept he understands too well, he knows he is fond of her. Now far from the powerplant, his adrenaline level begins to return to normal. He knows too he must stay alert. If caught, his notoriety and heroics in winning the Games will do little to protect him. In fact, being this year’s poster boy could even make his situation a whole lot worse!

  Ahead, a large holosign, Demron, illuminates the grey skyline, pointing VanWest towards a possible place to stay undetected; a small diamond-shaped motel with a silver roof and a honeycomb of black pods, small living quarters. Demron doesn’t just do motels, it covers an array of products and services, from clothing to leisure facilities, and can be found in all human settlements. They are best known for their innovative and easy fitting jumpsuit, which comfortably protects against harmful radiation.

  Demron’s owners are the infamous Elites called the Huberts. Owners of the food chain InsectnOut, VanWest’s helmet sponsors in the Universal Games, given to him in thanks for saving the head of the family during his first tour as a newly graduated Enforcer. Their involvement with the Universal Council nowadays is said to be minimal. Their vast riches and influence allowing their companies to operate with relative anonymity, free of restraint as well as competition. For this reason, its motels remain one of the only places not requiring stringent registration and vetting procedures for guests. Less red tape is good for business as they say. And therefore, a place VanWest can use as a safe house.

  With Iris now asleep, he quietly parks the hovercar inside a metal container, trusting that its thick metal walls will keep the vehicle from being detected. Lifting Iris out, he carries her two floors up to the closest available black pod, careful to conceal his face in case a Quadrotor passes by.

  Although he doesn’t have any currency on him, Demron luckily takes pints of healthy blood as payment. But he must hope that his exposure to the powerplant’s radiation hasn’t reduced its worth. He places his forearm into the blood payment device, returning with the cost of a night’s stay at a hefty pint. The human body only has 10 and there’s no late checkout included. His blood scores Radiation Free, Accepted.

  With so many suffering from radiation poisoning, there is great demand for healthy blood to detoxify. Demand is driven even higher by the Elites, who consume it in huge quantities for aesthetic purposes, - healthier hair and fingernails - depleting the supply and driving up its price. Blood can be made in labs but organic, antibody-rich blood, is preferred. The synthetic blood, whilst cheaper, is still unaffordable for most and in short supply.

  The inside of the pod is basic. Furnished with an aluminium foil blanket and a hole for a toilet, a far cry from the luxury of a SCC Hypersphere pod. Its shape hexagonal and cramped, about three metres long and two metres wide and tall. This Mid-City low-cost accommodation designed for traders that seek shelter and respite; not only from the radiation and heat but the thieving junkies and treacherous night, Quadrotors, and the frequent dust storms.

  VanWest lays next to Iris, lifting her head gently upon the thin pillow and removing her worn-out boots. Seeing that she is shivering from shock, VanWest holds her in his arms to warm her up. Exhausted, having ventured from one high octane drama to the next, he drifts to sleep.

  An earlier vision returns. Back on the sand, he stands in an arena surrounded by spectators. A few meters away is Alpha holding his laser dagger against the slender neck of the frizzy-haired woman he now knows to be his childhood friend Iris. Alpha looks up, waiting for a decision from a bald-headed man with a white goatee in a gilded stand - the Universal Council’s leader Dr King. Wearing a ceremonial toga and gold-leafed corona just like in the Universal Games, he stretches out his right arm with his fist clenched. Dr King’s aura that of a Roman Emperor in a Gladiator’s tournament.

  VanWest finds himself frozen and unable to move, watching as Dr King finally signals back to Alpha, his thumb pointing down. Da-da-dum! Drums pound in unison as Alpha pulls Iris’s head back and cuts her throat.

  Gasp! VanWest awakens back in the pod. Iris, thankfully, is still in his arms, her neck as perfect and slender as before. Outside the pod, he notices footsteps and a short bald man in a tatty jumpsuit hovering around. His big green eyes stare at the pod’s door. At first, VanWest thinks it to be a homeless man coming to beg but the man knocks on the door in a curious manner, in bursts of three - tap-tap-tap - as if relaying a secret code. Something tells him that this man is not a threat, and turns the glass transparent.

  The man smiles broadly, ‘Hello! VanWest, is that you? My, my, have you grown’!

  ‘Sorry do I know you’? A puzzled VanWest replies.

  The knocks have awoken Iris, who comes to the door. Giving VanWest a reassuring stroke on his back, she opens the door and with a big smile covering her face hugs the man, ‘Hello Papa’!

  Chapter 11 A Traitor and a Hero

  Papa!? VanWest wonders if this short bald man could be Mad Newton. Remembering Dr King’s description and interface, and remembering who Iris is, it most likely is so! The man exchanges a warm embrace with his daughter. She must have sent a communication during the night with their location, that or her father was able to track them down.

  ‘My love, I’m glad I found you! Enforcer activity has increased threefold since last night. Many lives lost’, Mad Newton informs, his expression turning more sombre. Both Iris and VanWest are not surprised to hear this, having witnessed it themselves.

  He continues, taking hold of his arm, ‘VanWest! Dear VanWest! Thank you so very much for saving my beloved daughter. I’m Doctor VonHelmann’. He adds with a hint of amusement, ‘Yes, that same man their propaganda machine ignominiously dubs Mad Newton’.

  VanWest momentarily silent, replies, ‘I thought so’.

  ‘Do you not remember me’? Mad Newton asks.

  He does seem familiar, and not just because he is featured weekly in the Most Wanted. VanWest has seen him before in his dreams, his visions although less haggard looking.

  ‘Don’t worry if you can’t… Thy childhood memories have been meddled with. It hides thy truth, thy purpose and existence, the secrets of thy origins’, Mad Newton’s expression changing to that of pity.

  ‘I don’t understand’, a surprised VanWest replies. ‘VanWest… You should not have meddled in Paris’.

  ‘I was sent to stop you, your evil mission to distort the time continuum. Are you not trying to change our present? Take us backwards and lose all progress’? VanWest asks in a firm tone.

  ‘Do not be so easily used’, Mad Newton replies, his tone still that of pity.

  ‘Can you not fix this world without changing the past’? VanWest rebuts, defensively.

  ‘No! The Universal Council has become too powerful and corrupt. The creation of CERN is one of a few seismic events that ended the dream of Utopia by the 21st-century Philosopher Hans Ashtar forewarned those in the late 20th century not to let machines guide our behaviour, our moral decisions. But alas they took no notice’.

  Mad Newton pauses, his tone now more that of annoyance, ‘VanWest, do you not observe all around you? Does it not feel odd? Unnatural’?

  Iris adds, ‘The citizens are controlled by machines, do you not notice the cyborgs, Quadrotors, patrol androids, spaceships and holoscreens. Only by going back to our past can we save the present’.

  VanWest, finding it hard to wrap his head around the logic, remains unconvinced, ‘There must be an alternative’?

  As a well-trained Enforcer, he can detect when someone is concealing information. He feels Mad Newton is hiding something, his tone changing back to one of pity again as his hand moves away, ‘Dear VanWest, well… maybe once there was a green technology, a box, but thy Council destroyed that too’.

  VanWest wants to press further but before he can do so, Mad Newton removes a green hexagon-shaped chip from his pocket and hands it to him, ‘This will unmask thy lost memories, thy world, thy existence. Insert this into thy ear node after we leave. Fear not it to be found, our
top hacker has masked thee from the Universal’s machines’.

  VanWest accepts. He feels though a sense of loathing, fearful of what else he has forgotten and what it may do to him. Inserting it, he does not yet start the interface. Mad Newton pats him reassuringly on his shoulder, ‘In less than 34 hours a NEW Beginning will start for us all. I want you to join us’!

  ‘What is this New Beginning’? An already bewildered VanWest asks.

  Mad Newton opens his hand, he has the silver Quantum Accelerator rod!

  ‘To return with me to the time before Utopia was lost. I urge you to take thy opportunity to join and help us. To trust in Utopia... Thy gifted mind sees our future. One that you can help us to shape. Ling Ling has returned us the rod’.

  A concerned VanWest is not happy to hear this, neither is he glad to hear his mind being called ‘gifted’ by now two doctors. He struggles to differentiate one from the other, so similar they are in manner, speech, stature and background. Each espouses their own point of view as the correct one.

  Iris adds, ‘We took great risk to meet you in Ward B. This chip gives you back your memories, who you are, the truth. You can now make an informed decision… I hope one to help us’.

  Mad Newton explains further, ‘Thy ability… I masked from the Universal as long as I could. Play the chip and decide’!

  Mad Newton expression changes as he looks back at the grey sky, turning to that of concern. Now handing VanWest a low-tech square communicator, ‘The Universal are searching everywhere. Stay low in Mid-City for the next 33 hours, closer to the time we will send you the coordinates via this communicator to our underground base. A final leap and New Beginning starts’.

  ‘Affirmative… ok’, VanWest forgetting himself and answering as an Enforcer.

  ‘Trust in Utopia’!

  Iris looks sad to leave VanWest, kissing him warmly on the cheek just like when they were children before following her father into the street where they crawl inside a storm drain. As if Mad Newton had sensed it, Quadrotors appearing in the skies as they disappear.

  VanWest notices that his hands are trembling again, a sign that he has come to understand that something is about to happen. Before he can step back into the pod, a sharp noise - screech - forces him to his knees and his square communicator from his hands, falling from the deck and smashing on the ground below. An intense and blinding orange light follows.

  The Enforcers are here! Their heavy footsteps cause the deck to shake violently as the siren’s dissonant noise increases even further - screech. VanWest covers his ears in anguish, wishing it to stop.

  ‘Hands up, roachtard’!

  The blinding light dims to reveal the gleeful killer Captain Alpha alongside numerous Enforcer patrol androids. Dust swirls up around them as a large ship decloaks, it’s the SCC-400. A greenish-blue bolt of light follows, hitting the tarmac and transporting down Colonel Cornelius in full body armour. VanWest tries to call out but one of the patrol androids hits him with a Taser amplifier as a stinging jolt of electricity forces him down on his knees. Smashing his head against the railing of the deck, causing his body to spasm, and eyes to close.

  He finds himself naked on a cold floor where a yellow-eyed and reptile-like man stares at him with interest. It is an Inspector he knows well, the Interrogator from ColaBeers. His white lab coat is stained with blood and sleeves singed black. VanWest tries to lift his badly burned and reddened hands up but cannot. Trapped in a container of sorts, he is stuck. A man is watching him, bald-headed with a long white goatee - it is Dr King. He tries to call out, only for light to fill his container. Flames cover and melt VanWest’s skin. Agh! The pain worse than any he has ever experienced before.

  He awakens on a cold floor, now surrounded by electric bars that pulsate systematically, fading briefly before shining brightly again. His body no longer singed or his skin melted; he is dressed in black prison garb. It all feels like a dream. Through the bars, someone is watching and moving closer, he can make out two menacing and small yellow eyes staring at him. A déjà vu as the pulsating bars fade, he sees the small beady eyes belong to the Interrogator. This is not good! His white lab coat is stained with blood and sleeves singed black just like he saw before. Was it a dream? VanWest tries to speak but cannot. The Interrogator steps inside, carrying with him a silver chrome box.

  Two Elite patrol androids follow next, their limbs elongating towards him. VanWest doesn’t know where he is or what is happening, he tries to shuffle back, but there is nowhere to escape to. They aggressively pin him against the floor and strip his clothes off, VanWest too shocked to scream or resist.

  The Interrogator wears his amber stone pendant, goading him with it, ‘Ss-so pretty, pretty’!

  The androids force his mouth open, inserting a small silver object inside. VanWest feels a weird sensation, something spiderlike is slowly crawling across his tongue and then scurries down his throat. VanWest can feel its razor-sharp legs twisting and turning as it passes through his oesophagus. The pain is unbearable as it extends and wraps its long legs around his spine.

  Agh! The Interrogator smiles, he’s enjoying VanWest’s pain like a weird fetish and sticks his tongue out to lick his lips. His whole demeanour and posture that of a snake.

  He goads him, his voice hissing, ‘Weak, weak. It hurts, hurts you so bad, bad… Tell me plan. So pain stop, ss-stop’!

  VanWest knows by now this is all very real, he is being punished. ‘This plan’, the Universal Council must know of his meeting with Iris and Mad Newton. Agh! The pain makes him squirm, his body contorting, it feels like every part of his body is being stabbed again and again. He knows the Interrogator’s methods all too well. The worst thing he could do is admit any wrongdoing or admit that he helped these high-profile Utopians - this would bring not only certain death but also more torture.

  He channels his Enforcer mindfulness training as taught by Master Jiang at the academy - a professor in philosophy, self-defence, mind conditioning and strengthening. Physical pain is but an illusion, existing only if one chooses for it to exist. Appointed by Dr King, after spending centuries as an Elite guard, Master Jiang educates the Enforcers on mindfulness. How to separate their mind from their bodies, alongside other lessons such as endlessly reciting and writing out the Universal commandments.

  The mind strengthening classes were tough but also very effective. VanWest remembers one such lesson where Master Jiang used an ancient method, originating from the ancient art of Kung-Fu, to teach discipline. Forcing the class to squat down and balance a boiling hot cup of tea on each knee. One had to remain still for half an hour, if one cup were to spill and drop, usually scolding one’s leg and feet, one would have to restart. Soon the physical pain of the hot tea scolding one’s knee and foot became irrelevant against the psychological pain of stopping and starting. Hence, disciplining one’s physical self, in turn, helped one’s mental self. For VanWest, the trick was to remain in a trance and to forget the cups were even there.

  VanWest’s resistance doesn’t surprise the Interrogator for he knows of the Enforcer’s training and exceptional resistance to torture and pain. Rather it piques his interest; he enjoys the challenge of coming up with what to try next. Thus, he decides on something even more brutal.

  Recalling the spider, the Interrogator instructs his androids to take an exhausted VanWest out of the cell. Dragged along the floor, he can see the other cells, through the red pulsating bars are many badly bruised and reddened bodies. The Interrogator can’t resist stopping to look at one. Licking his lips, he gleefully watches as a woman is struck by an electric bolt.

  He-he! Sniggering as her body is sent into a spasm, rolling and twisting across the floor. VanWest can see her eyes fade as her twitching slows, he watches the life draining from her body. He fears that the Interrogator has stopped here for a reason, that a similar fate awaits him. Will he die this way too?

  The Androids drag him further down the corridor and through a door into the centre of a chamber su
rrounded by panes of frosted glass. As they leave, the panes become transparent. It is a container he has seen before, maybe it was a dream, another vision, where he was set on fire. VanWest looks across to find Colonel Cornelius watching, seeing a strong hint of concern etched across his face, his forehead wrinkled and eyes sullen. Dr King is there too.

  ‘Boy! Make this easier on yourself. Lest you did not know, we have proof you aided and abetted a MOST Wanted and his daughter. I warned you, did I not say this woman was evil’? Dr King scolds.

  He continues, his eyes scowling, ‘Sofia Iris VonHelmann. Not only this, YOU let her father, lest I need to say the MOST wanted criminal, Mad Newton, escape! You know the Universal is all-knowing. What were you thinking? Dumb boy! Easily fooled and gullible, I shouldn’t be surprised. Your kind’!

  VanWest too weakened and tired to respond, wonders what he means by ‘your kind’.

  The Colonel looks at VanWest willing him on to respond with some sort of explanation, anything, even taking the brave decision to come to his aid. He interjects, ‘If I may my liege… Captain VanWest has been a top Enforcer. He may have an explanation for all this’.

  There is much honour among the Enforcers, VanWest feels guilty and ashamed for letting his Colonel down. He is lost for words, unable to explain himself. The momentary silence is interrupted by the Interrogator’s giggles as he goads VanWest again by licking his amber stone pendant, very much enjoying the sight of his anguish.

  The Colonel looks down and away, allowing the Interrogator to introduce his next painful torture. ‘Welcome! Welcome to sun sssun tanning salon. It open, open. He-he! Please, please forgive me, me so clumsssy, ever so so clumsssy, clumsssy. Turn up high, high. He-he’!

  The glass panels of the container transform once again, lighting up, its heat unbearable. VanWest screams in agony; he can feel himself being set alight as his skin turns bright red and blisters. Master Jiang’s training is not enough to repress the excruciating pain.