Beaver2416 (Reviler's Affray) (15 page)

”
Kai í̱tan óles gemátes me to Ágio Pnév̱ma, kai árchisan na miloún xénes gló̱sses, ópo̱s to Pnév̱ma tous édo̱se ti̱n ékfrasi̱ …
”

Morgan could only shake his head in frustration.

“
Verb-bot … Stop!
”--He demanded--“Now… Verb-bot--read
in English
, from the
top of the page
…” The light returned and the android again started thinking—

“…
And when day of Pentecost was fully coming, they were all with one cord one place. And sudden there came sound from heaven as Russian might wind, and it filled all housing where were sitting. And there a pear on to them clove tongues like as fire, and sat up on each them. And were all filling with the Holy Ghost, and began to speaking with other tongues, as the Spirit give udder ants
…”

Morgan was filled with a look of fright, as if all the blood in his head had somehow drained out.

“
VERB-BOT STOP! Turn the page, and read in English from the top
…”

The mechanical robot reached down and carefully turned the leather. It then started scanning again.

“
… Now when they hearing this, they were prickle in the heart, and said unto Peter and rest a post less, Men and brothers, what shall we do? Peter said them, Repent, and be baby ties every one you in name of Jesus Christ for the re-mission of sins, and you shall receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost. For pro mass is to you, and you children, and all that are far off, as many the Lord our God shall calling. And many other words he test frying and exit arcing, say, save selves from un-tow ward general nation. Then they gladly receiving his word were baby ties: and same day were added them about three thousand souls. And continuity fast in a post less' doctor rind and fellow shipping, and break bread, and prayers. Fearing came upon every soul: and many wonder rings and signage were done by a post less. All believing were together, had all thing come on; sold their post session goods, and parted to all men, as every man had needing. Continuity daily one a cord in temple, breaking bread from housing to housing, did eating meat with glade ness and single heart, Racing God, and favoring with all the people. And the Lord added the church daily such as should be saved. End of page …”
--Verb-bot said, stopping its reading.

Beaver could only gaze at Morgan, wondering what he was thinking. Morgan was still in a state of shock as he considered what was read.

“
Do… do… do… you … you know what this is
?” Morgan said, looking at the two puzzled souls before him.

Bobble and Beaver could only shake their heads in the negative, not knowing what was even read to them.

“This… this … is the
history book--The record of the far-ancient church
!
What they taught
…
What they believed
! We
only had parts and pieces
, but
never
a complete volume!
This is priceless
!”

The word
church
that Morgan spoke and Verb-bot echoed, struck a sharp chord with Beaver.

“
What CHURCH!? All Churches are EVIL! Churches are filled with HATE
!”--he said with a sharp tongue, reacting with years of Academy propaganda fed into his sociopathic mind.

“
No … Beaver2416--Not this one
. This church is the
true church
. This is the church that
Jesus Christ built
.” Morgan spoke in a consoling tone.

“I know that you don’t understand all of this right now--as well as Verb-bot needs some
vast updating
in his
translation skills
. But, to answer your question--Yes. We are the followers of
Jesus
. These around you represent some of the last disciples and followers of an
unauthorized
and
prohibited
faith. There are more of us throughout this war-torn world--but how many and where, is not for you to know right now.”--Morgan continued.

He then rested his hand upon the Leather manuscript. “This book that Matthew died for represents an original record of that faith. It existed
far
before any Academy or any Great Conflict. It is
living proof
that
every
word and
every
action that the Academy doles out in the name of their
master
is an
absolute lie
. It is God’s holy and anointed word--and that’s why he was willing to give his life as a martyr for it.”

Beaver thought hard about what he was told. He knew deep down that this--all of this was the truth. How he knew, was beyond his comprehension. However, what was truly found in his psyche was the fact that the Academy is evil. He knew that without a single doubt, the very day he left the bunker. He also knew that his family, his father, and his friend all died for the same cause. After digesting Morgan’s words for a few ticts, Beaver calmly spoke.

“
Are you the Revilers
?” he vocalized with a feeling of anticipation.

Morgan smiled at such a question.

“No Beaver2416--
YOU are the last of the Revilers
.” Morgan said, pointing his finger at Beaver’s chest.

“For me to be a
Reviler,
would mean that my
Father
was one as well,
right?
” Beaver slowly stated with inquisition, trying to make sense of such a statement.

“Yes, as well as everyone who lived in the bunker with you. You were
all
Revilers.” Morgan answered, with a grin.

Beaver now fully assured in himself that Morgan was telling the truth, immediately questioned--“
What’s my real name?
”

“
Nothing more will I tell you now
--It’s growing late and you
must
leave.” Morgan spoke with an intensity.

Beaver suddenly realized that he had spent the entire light in their presence.

“
You are right! I have to leave
…” Beaver said as he stood to his feet in a slight panic.

“Verb-bot …
do your thang
.” Morgan called, as he also slowly stood.

The android walked to the Lev-desk and took the manuscript into an adjacent room.

“
Don’t worry … it will be safe
.” Morgan assured Beaver2416.

He then opened a drawer in the Lev-desk and strapped something around Beaver’s wrist.

“Bobble will lead you out the front entrance … and when you reach the surface you
must quickly
run around the outside of the Bazaar, and then get on a transport. Bobble will take a much shorter path and will be standing by the transports to take this bio-jammer from you, before you get on. Your running will make it seem to the Academy’s short-range bio-scanners (if you are scanned), as if you just took a long stroll today around Stowelowly, and nothing more. Bobble will meet you again next decision day, and I will tell you more then--
now go
!” Morgan bellowed, pointing towards the back wall of the sea of junk.

Bobble grabbed his hand and caused him to race through the large domicile. He quickly led him to the far side of the area, through the literal maze of electronic parts. On the back wall, there was another air-locked missile chamber, converted into a hov-vator. With a few key presses on the electron-lock, they entered and began their super-speed trek to the surface.

“
Remember! Run around the outside of the Bazaar and high tail it to the transport! I will be waiting for you there
!” Bobble yelled as the Hov-vator slowed its assent.

Beaver could only nod in agreement.

Suddenly, they could see the fainting of light from the surface, as the door opened. They were inside of another crumbling building, across the pathway from the bazaar. This time they appeared in a small, locked room once used for laundry.

“One more thing… you must
NEVER
enter this way. Exiting is fine, but to enter …
you have to go through the caves
. We will tell you more about it next Decision day--
now go quickly
!”

Beaver abruptly left the building, running past a Humble guard, who had set up a false place of business inside. It was done as a
front,
to cover for the Hov-vator hidden in the back. It was set up in a style, much like the underground
speakeasies
and
supper clubs
of the former time.

“
You’ll never make it
!” the Humble laughed, as Beaver jetted out the door. He ran with all his might around to the rear of the bazaar. Some of the Humbles, watched amused and seemingly began to make wagers on his outcome. He then turned the corner and ran as fast as he could across the front. More of the Humbles began peeking out of broken windows and hallways, to watch the Westbrookian and his sprinting. As he reached the end of the Bazaar, he breathlessly turned towards the path leading to the transports. His pace began to greatly slow as he was running out of energy.

As he breached the horizon he could see Bobble, standing like always trying to peddle his wares. This gave him enough mental thrust to shoot forward towards the final transport. As he passed by, Bobble quickly grabbed the bio-jammer off of his wrist, and put it on his own. Beaver then leaped into the air and swung on the rev-pole into an empty seat.

“
Safety is empirical!
” the mechanized driver said with his robotic head turned towards Beaver. As the transport warbled towards home, all Beaver could say in his exhausted state was “
… hea … th … en
.”

Chapter 11:

As the days passed since his adventure, each light at his workjob was agonizing. Beaver hard scrutinized everything that had happened, looking for anything he did not notice upon first experience. He was entranced with the thoughts of caves, leather books, and the Schism; much more than giving tosses and threatening people. What disturbed him the most was something that Morgan had said--

“
Beaver2416, YOU are the last of the Revilers
.”

He could not help but dwell upon this statement, every single light and dark. He had to know more—much more about who his parents were and what they did. He also wanted his last question to Morgan, of his
true name
, answered more than anything.

Suddenly Beaver was jolted, like awaking from a dream.

“
Beaver2416 … please report to O.L.
” --his ambient plugs buzzed. This time it was expected, because as usual it was another period for promotions, before the next Decision day break.  Beaver left the work floor through the side door and doffed his regalia. He sighed greatly as he knew what came next.

“
Heathen!
” he vocalized as he slammed the Orange button. The cosmo-bot appeared with all of its appendages from inside of the Lev-desk. It then performed its task quickly, whirring and clicking as it went.

“
Modeling complete
”--it squeaked as it retracted. This time his Brownish locks were now a Reddish Auburn. His hair was styled in what was known as Reo-fashion, with it shortened and left spiky in appearance. His face left with strips of facial hair resembling a flag’s stripes. And again, Beaver hated every bit of it. All he could do is roll his eyes in disgust as he left the office.

As he trekked through the halls of Perpetua, he was unfazed by all the onlookers and cat calls. He was much too preoccupied with those words
the last of
that constantly echoed throughout his head. To be truly the last of anything was to hold a grave responsibility. What that
responsibility
could be and mean, he hadn’t a single clue. Without really thinking, Beaver waved his hand at the sentry in front of Mercurial’s office.

“
Beaver2416--Hachiman. You are authenticated
.” the sentry said, as it moved aside. Beaver then, set aside his cerebral ponderings and took the final steps inside Mercurial’s opened door.

There were at least 30 people, a mixture of Elites and commoners crammed into the otherwise spacious office. They had moved most of the expensive playthings, and sat out crude, padded chairs. Some of the Elites could be heard griping and complaining about having to sit on such a
disgusting, mid-ancient invention
. As Beaver took a seat, and sat idly by watching the small crowd, he suddenly shuttered with inner fear.

He realized that a Caliphate was present. He was standing next to Mercurial; who was scanning the assembly from his Lev-pode. The Caliphates were chief advisors, directly endowed from the Great Master. Each one was hand selected by the G.M himself and given executive privilege above the Elites to dictate his bidding. He completely knew of their powers, because they frequented the Catholic Parliament. Most of the time they would signify to the judiciary someone’s fate of death, with a simple downcast thumb. Beaver knew, as the rest found seating; that if a Caliphate was here--
there was going to be trouble
.

Mercurial motioned for the small crowd to be silent, and a great hush fell over the assembly.

“I know that we were going to use this time for new promotions and other miscellaneous ideas--
We’re not.
Instead it has come to my attention from our blessed Great Master, there are much more pressing matters at hand--there is a
thief
among us”--Mercurial scowled with great distain.

The fragile Elites gasped as they looked at one another in disbelief.

“Someone in this room has committed an act of treason, in the very eyes of our blessed Master!”--Mercurial expounded with rage—“Stealing and plotting against us and our sacred way of life!”

“THIS WILL NOT STAND UNCORRECTED!!!” he screamed, as he hit his Lev-pode, fragmenting a piece to the floor.

He then regained his composure and turned towards the Caliphate.

“
Proceed …
” Mercurial baulked, with an outstretched hand.

The Caliphate seemingly floated towards all of the seated. His hands were clasped together and hidden, within his jewel encrusted robing. He strutted and scanned each person that he passed by, like choosing what prey would be his next meal. Each one of the diverse crowd that he passed by, turned their gaze from him in fear. There were loud gulps of air and swallows, which could be heard throughout the room. The office was suddenly filled with statues, which would dare not to break from their mode of paralysis.

Everyone in New Judah, knew full well of the power that each Caliphate held. They could do anything they wanted, to anyone—for any reason. Only the Great Master himself had the authority to strike one down, if he willed it.

In short, among the Academy—they were virtually untouchable.

As he slowly moved within the crowd, Beaver could only close his eyes and hold his breath.

They are talking about me! I am going to die
!--He ravenously thought, as he knew all too well what was hidden in the Caliphate’s hands.

His steps grew closer, as he began to walk down Beaver’s row of antiquated chairs. Beaver began to tremble in fright, as he fathomed his fate was walking down the aisle. As the Caliphate strolled next to Beaver, he suddenly stopped his travel and stood motionless. Beaver thought that if this was going to be his last moment, then he was going to leave this wretchedness with honor as did his family and his fallen friend. He quickly stood to his feet with a posture of military attention and opened his eyes.

“
IT WAS YOU!
” The Caliphate roared, as his hands produced a loaded dunner. Suddenly, he fired the weapon at point-blank range. All at once, every panic stricken soul screamed to the top of their lungs as they turned away in their seats. Beaver swiftly exhaled from his great sustain, realizing what had happened.

The Caliphate shot the Elite who was sitting next to him!

Abruptly, the fallen Elite howled with the pangs of death, as she turned to vapour. With his hand still drawn, the Caliphate moved his transfixed eyes upon Beaver standing next to him.

Unaware, Beaver’s sociopathic mind suddenly compelled him to clap his hands in approval. As he clapped, his look of sheer terror turned into a mechanical, beaming smile. Luckily, the other onlookers in the room followed his lead and began to do the same, standing to their feet and clapping. The Caliphate forthwith changed his looks of judgment, to one of consent as he equally smiled and nodded at Beaver. He then turned and walked back to Mercurial’s side, as everyone furiously clapped their hands and shouted—

“
SdotG! … SdotG! ... SdotG!
”

Mercurial then returned to the now fractured Lev-pode and quieted the crowd.

“
Be seated
…” he said, as he obviously had more to tell.

“The Academy will not
tolerate such insurgency! All traitors will be eliminated!
There were also
many
other items stolen from the storehouses of our Archive of Fact …
these items must be retrieved at all cost
!” Mercurial again resounded with anger.

He then walked to his Lev-throne and pressed a steely, purple button. Suddenly, the entire plant’s address system squalled with an ear-piercing alert tone. The large multi-view holo-screen mounted on the wall, suddenly turned on. Everyone on the work floor stopped their labors and shut off every machine. The offices halted their constant clicking and buzzing of electronic devices. All at once, Perpetua was filled with silence. Then Mercurial picked up a piece of electron-acetate off of his Lev-desk and shook it slightly in the air.

“…In a direct declaration from our Great Master, blessed be his name. There was a breach of security brought on by cowards of the lowest element. In a treasonous perpetration upon our most noble Archive of Fact--the dastardly Revilers and all their disgusting pestilence, committed a heinous crime in which several items were stolen. These items are pivotal to Academy wellbeing and harmony. Therefore, you are all commissioned to use any means necessary to retrieve them. Anyone with information that comes forward, and as a result causes one or all of these items to be retrieved, will be richly rewarded and their Acad-status will be greatly reconsidered.
”--Mercurial stated with an arrogant pomp.

The patrons in the room began to chatter amongst themselves, wondering what these items were and
how much GP I would get if I found them.
Beaver sat motionless, knowing full well that the leather book that he gave Morgan was one of these
pivotal
items. He also knew that anyone in the plant would
squeal
about what he had experienced in the caves and the complex, if they had an inkling of knowledge of its existence. To the Elites this declaration of bounty, meant more laziness, synth-liquor, and mid-ancient drugs. However, to the Selects it was a chance to become upgraded. There was not a single person throughout Westbrook that would not
kill
to become an Elite. Beaver knew that from this moment on, his covert actions would be much harder to complete.

Mercurial loudly cleared his throat, signifying that he had more to say. Everyone in the room silenced as he continued.

“If there is one among you that is involved with this abomination, you can come forward now and our glorious one will graciously show you
clemency
for your actions. However, if you do not come …
we will find you and destroy you!
”--Mercurial paused as he scanned the room with an icy stare.

Beaver fell an overwhelming conviction come over him. He could tell everything and they would show mercy. He could also retrieve the book and possibly become an Elite, and never again think about caves and Revilers. His mind swam in a torrent of selfish contemplation. All it would take is a sound--an uplifted hand and he could receive to himself a bounty of greatness.

In that moment, his mind was engulfed with a hidden thought of his life in the bunker. His father was standing before him in the church, holding something.

“
This is the word … the bread of life.
” he said with tender speech, as he gently patted the cover of a book that he was holding. Young Beaver peered at the black leather-bound book and its gold lettering. Sadly, he could not make out what words were embossed upon it. Beaver then abruptly awoke from his vision, as Mercurial continued gazing at the holo-screen on the wall looking for any nuance of a confession, throughout the entirety of Perpetua.

“…
Very well then
. It is everyone’s duty to report anything you see or hear that might bear even the
slightest
of fruit. Now--continue your labors and may the blessing of the Great Master be upon you.
SdotG
.”--Mercurial finished with his hands raised in salute.

Everyone in the plant, as well as the cramped room did the same. Within ticts, the holo-screen was filled with people quickly scurrying back to their place of business. Almost immediately, the whirring and clicking of machines could again be heard. The small herd of people reluctantly slogged out of the office, towards their respective places. As Beaver left, he turned and once again looked at the Caliphate standing next to Mercurial.

No one deserves such power
--Beaver thought. To have the ability to destroy anyone for any reason you wish, in Beaver’s mind; was a power reserved for God alone. He held this singular thought all the way back to his office and finally to the production floor.

It was not much longer until the end of production. He had only give 4 a toss all work day. He was much too preoccupied with caves and Verb-bots to really get into his work-job. Of course, he could blame it all on the meeting for his lack in production. However, Beaver felt that he had to do something to keep his reputation solidified. With it being the day before Decision, people were scrambling to meet their quotas, especially since there was a pause from Mercurial. No one that he could find, was not already doing their job at a frantic pace. With all that had already happened this light, it made Beaver feel uneasy. The last thing that he wanted to do, was to project an idea that he was slipping in his duties. All he could do is glare at the workers, hoping for something that would justify taking them off of their production.

Suddenly, Beaver shut his eyes and said to himself in distain—

“
Heathen!
”

The call for the end of the workday had sounded. The workers on the floor seemed happy, because each of them had made their quota. Beaver however, was far from happy as he left the production floor through the side door. He slammed all of his work gear in its places, in so much that the sect-bot awoke from its slumber.