Beaver2416 (Reviler's Affray) (17 page)

“An Acad-major spotted me in the stands and quickly brought me here to the caves. He was a great father to me, and was one of us … up until the day he died. He taught me to never seek vengeance for the past … and he was
right
.
You cannot undo what has been done
.”

“
But… it still hurts
.” Beaver interrupted.

Bobble sighed greatly as he lifted his head to look at Beaver.

“
Aye … It does. And, that hurt never leaves. But, you can keep it from consuming and controlling your life--And with that, we must be going.
” Bobble barked, as he turned and quickened his pace towards the direction of the limestone wall.

Beaver could only pause in contemplation, trying to digest everything that was said.

“
Are you coming
!?” Bobble snapped, as he was far ahead.

Beaver silently shook his head in the affirmative, as he too quickened his pace.

Soon, they were standing at the base of the massive limestone wall. Nothing more was said between them for the entire trip through the caves. Beaver was afraid that Bobble might emotionally break down again costing them more precious time, so he did not speak.

“Ok … we’re here. You know the routine.” Bobble said as he slipped on his hand the small magnet device. Beaver could only nod in acknowledgement, still refraining from speech. Bobble place his hand upon the wall and began to walk backwards. The massive slab rumbled and opened. Beaver then ran inside, and in a tict after his hand’s release, Bobble did the same. The door quickly shut and the air lock engaged. With no hesitation, Beaver reached over to the crude controls and pressed the Red button. In their ascent to the complex, Beaver could only stare at Bobble, who sat on the floor in great sorrow.

How much pain can one person bear?
--Beaver thought. For the first time, he truly felt empathy in that someone could have a greater struggle, a greater burden than what he has carried. In his sociopathic arrogance, he felt as if no one else in the world could hurt more than he has. Beaver realized that he was greatly wrong, and for that he felt a true remorse.

“
I’m sorry about your family--that must have been the most horrible thing that anyone could experience
.” Beaver said in an awkward tone, not knowing what to say.

“
It was--and now it’s over
.” Bobble stated as he slowly stood to his feet, knowing that the old hydraulic platform was about to stop. With a large puff of air, the braking mechanism engaged and they stopped their upward motion. Within ticts, the doorway before them unlocked and opened revealing once again a city of wonders.

Beaver, remembering what happened last time; outstretched his hand in subtle invitation.

“
After you
…” Beaver said with a smile. Bobble walked towards the threshold and turned his head.

“
Heathen!
” Bobble barked with a chuckle, as he walked by.

Standing just outside of the tube, on a wooden crate of newly harvested radishes was Morgan. He had a peaceable and friendly candor that was much different than last time. 

“Good … you made it.” Morgan spoke, with his hands raised to greet them. He was exceedingly jolly, much like seeing an old friend after many spans. This made Beaver very uneasy, although he did not show it outwardly. It made him feel as if Morgan and the rest were just drawing him in, so they could pounce with a given command.

“Hello …
I think.
” Beaver vocalized with a hint of vinegar. 

Morgan beamed a great smile, as he jumped down from the crate. He then, motioned for the duo to follow him. The two did as they were told, however Beaver trailed somewhat to the back. He was ready to bolt, if he needed to. As they walked past the infirmary towards the sea of junked electronics, Beaver could not take it anymore.

“Why are you so happy today?!” Beaver snorted with a bit of arrogance. He really didn’t know why Morgan’s enthusiasm and pep annoyed him, but it did greatly.

“Oh Beaver … you need to lighten up. You have gone through your entire life with eyes that cannot see and ears that cannot hear. You need a Spiritual operation.” Morgan stated, still with a smile on his face.

Beaver suddenly stopped his walking, with a perturbed look.

“
What in New Judah does all that mean!
?” he squawked with frustration.

“You’ll find out
soon enough
…” Bobble quipped sternly, getting in on the conversation.

Blind eyes!? … Deaf Ears!? … An operation!?--
This made Beaver feel even more uneasy. It was like someone was waiting around the corner of one of the massive piles to attack him, and strap him to a Lev-table to be experimented on. He suddenly slowed his pace to the point of barely moving forward, and looking in every direction.

Bobble and Morgan stopped with bellows of laughter.

“
Oh come on
! Beaver … We are
only messing
with you!” Morgan said, still with a jovial tone.

“Boy … you have got
a lot
to learn.” Bobble said, still with a giggle.

Beaver rolled his eyes and said his favorite word with enthusiasm—

“
Heathen!
”

“Exactly, Bobble. Just like that--do you even know what that word means?” Morgan questioned as he looked directly at Beaver.

“I know it’s a bad word--
evil, I think
.” Beaver said.

He had never given it much thought. The origins of words was something that he certainly was not skilled in.

“
What is it then
?” he scrutinized, still with a slight acid. 

“The word ‘
heathen
’ comes from the Old English ‘
hǣthen
’ and it means someone who does not believe in or follow God. Or more correctly, someone who rejects the God mentioned in Matthew’s leather book.” Morgan said with scholarly authority—“The ‘
heathens
’ were historically (and still are) the enemies of the one true God, who wanted to reject God and worship and serve their own false, man-made, and evil gods.”

Beaver paused at this saying, and deeply thought about it.

“
So … the Great Master is a Heathen
?” Beaver said in contemplation.

“
Yes … and all that follow him
.” Bobble firmly stated with assurance.

This statement made Beaver smile greatly. To think that his secret word, was actually a word of blasphemy against the G.M. delighted him and filled his mind with ease.

“Did Tim … I mean Matthew know what that word meant as well?” Beaver said with a serenity.

“Yes. And he also knew its meaning by another word …” Morgan told.

Beaver’s eyes widened with anticipation.

“--The word is ‘
pagan
.’” Morgan said.

Beaver’s smile slowly left him as he thought about this new word. His mind was suddenly flooded with a memory from the bunker. His father used that word many times, standing in front of that crude wooden stand that held the large book.

All of a sudden, Beaver blurted out without thinking—

“
A Snake! My father talked about a snake and a garden
!”

Morgan grinned at such an outburst.

“I see that you know more than we thought …” Bobble stated with surprise.

“Verb-bot … Parse manuscript 0001--and come over here.” Morgan called, as he took his place at his Lev-desk.

“Please take a seat …” he beckoned with an outstretched hand.

The two, with the help of Verb-bot; then proceeded to tell Beaver much more about snakes, pagans, heathens, God, leather books and bunkers.

Chapter 13:

As the moments tict away, Beaver became increasingly agitated.

“So … you are telling me that my father was a minster and he had a book like Matthew’s? And, he was the leader of the ‘Revilers’ and his work paved the way for all of you … the Schism?” Beaver said with much cynical questioning and doubt.

“Yes … and the word is ‘
minister
,’ not ‘
minster
.’” Bobble quipped with a haggard tone.

“Your father was a great man of God. Most of us regard him as the last Apostle of the old world.” Morgan vocalized, with a scholarly tone.

“What’s an Apostle?” Beaver questioned, still agitated at all the bombardment of things he did not understand.

Morgan could only roll his eyes and dismiss such a question.

“Would you like to see and hear what kind of person your father was?” Morgan told with a smirk upon his face.

At first Beaver shook off such impossibility. He felt inside that it was contrary to all reason, that anything from his father could exist. But, for curiosities sake, he soon conceded with a head nod.

Without a word, Morgan then produced a rudimentary viewing device from one of the drawers of his Lev-desk. He sat it on top of the desk and took its long, brownish power cord and shoved it into a power receptacle attached to the side of the modified Lev-desk. He then, attached a slender silver cable to the side of the strange device.  The other end of the cable, had a dusty board with push buttons that had numbers and letters etched on top. With a button press, the mysterious device illuminated and crackled like fire. Morgan then, pressed a sequence of keystrokes… and all of a sudden, there he was. It was Beaver’s father, standing behind the wooden stand. He had on strange clothing that covered him from head to toe. He had blackened shoes, black pants, and a fancy coat with only three buttons, that had vertical stripes going up and down his frame. Beaver marveled at such an odd, reddish fabric that was hanging from his neck. It was clasped to his whited shirt with a golden clipping device.

“
How can he breathe with that around his neck
?” Beaver spoke dumbfounded.

Morgan laughed out loud at such child-like nonsense.

“They were called
neckties
, and for the time …
quite fashionable
.” Morgan stated, still chuckling.   

As he listened and peered hard at this moving image of the past, Beaver suddenly had another memory of his days in the bunker. He remembered that his father usually had a bright light surrounding him, every time he stood at the crude stand. He remembered that same hue of light in his days as a cheerleader for the Academy. These blinding rays of amber were always present at every holopram interview and performance he did. Beaver sat in silence trying to put these pieces and images of the past together. Morgan and Bobble equally remained silent, obviously because they wanted him to figure it all out for himself.

“That’s why the Academy chose me over everyone else to be their poster child--I was their trophy--their prized example, the son of the chief of the Revilers.” Beaver said with downcast eyes, coming to such a horrid epiphany.

The duo continued to refrain from speaking, wanting more to come out of the depths of Beaver’s long-lost memories.

“If … if … there were records of him of this kind that would mean--” Beaver stopped speaking, thinking carefully about everything that was said.

“Mean what?” Morgan squawked with glee, knowing that Beaver was realizing things that the Academy tried to keep hidden.

“It would mean that--the bunker was a broadcast station!?” Beaver said, with a bit of hesitation in his voice.

“Correct!” Bobble enthusiastically rebounded with a smile.

“Yes it was…your father would broadcast every dark to an unknown number of watchers and listeners throughout what was left of this world. He did this for spans and the emerging Academy hated every bit of it.  They tried and tried to find the signal’s source and shut him down… but he was far too cunning and led by the Lord to get caught.” Morgan told.

“So…how were we eventually caught, and the bunker and my family destroyed?” Beaver resounded on the edge of his metal seat, wanting to know everything he could.

“Your father was very smart. He would only use untraceable mediums like videotape … er--it was a magnetic ribbon-like device that you could record …”

Beaver suddenly raised his hand, stopping Morgan.

“I know what videotape is, along with cameras and video recorders … Matthew told me about them in his daily rants on the transports.” Beaver quipped, and then outstretched his hand motioning Morgan to continue.

“
Ok then
--He would film his nightly addresses and sermons on untraceable videotape and then have random couriers distribute them to different contacts. And in turn, their hidden groups would copy and distribute them to their own secret contacts--and on and on. With the speed and efficiency that these tapes surfaced, the Academy believed that it was a live broadcast. However, it was thousands of pre-recorded tapes in different places in the world, all being broadcast every dark at 23:00--over every wavelength and data gateway imaginable. Some would be broadcasting the newest tape, some a day behind, and still others several days behind. Every broadcast they shut down, there would be hundreds more in the same area to take its place, all showing different tapes. This constant shuffling is what confused the Academy powers the most, and kept them away from the source for spans.” Morgan paused and stood to his feet.

He started pacing back and forth with a look of distraught upon his face.

Beaver then knew that whatever had happened that lead to his entire life being changed--it must have been horrible.

“Your father, had two trusted couriers who would be the first in line to distribute. These two were the most important of all, and had the most danger. This was because, they had to take the tapes directly from the bunker to the first contact. Young, quick…but they had to be the most loyal and trusted because if they were ever captured, they could reveal what all the others were never told. Which was, the true location of the source broadcast.”

Morgan stopped and closed his eyes.

He was visibly upset as he sighed and continued--“These two couriers were spotted by a roving sleuth and quickly confirmed by a hail of flying quadra drones that were in the area. They ran and made it as far as Humbletown--you call Stowelowly--and there they were captured by Acad foot troops, with the latest tapes in tow.

When the Academy Elites figured out that the cargo they carried was the latest videotape to be broadcast, and none of the nightly addresses were actually live; they took the two couriers to the torturers at the newly built Catholic Parliament. Then, they proceeded to inflict their brand of horror upon them. One courier cracked at the 27 earth-hour mark and revealed the location of the bunker and everyone inside. His act of treason was rewarded with an instant infusion, while he was still strapped to the torturer’s table. The other, lasted 67 earth-hours and never told anything, other than repeatedly saying ‘Jesus loves you.’ When they finally checked out the information and learned that it was true; his torture no longer amused them. So, they took this second courier outside, near the screen. And, with bellows of laughter they infused him in the right wrist, point blank; shattering most of his radius and burning through his Bio-mark. Then, an Elite used an interrupter to make a pathway, and a few guards shoved him from behind, into the wasteland beyond the screen.” Morgan again stopped his retelling.

He suddenly removed the bio-mechanical glove on his right hand, revealing a darkened void in his wrist and forearm.

“I was that man…” Morgan said, with tears in his eyes.

Beaver quickly stood to his feet with great doubt.

“
But--you were INFUSED!? THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE
!” he snapped, not knowing what to do next.

“But, you cannot deny what you see--This large gaping hole in my wrist and forearm--can you? Chemically burned, completely through my veins and arteries--with no treatment at all, and left to die in poisoned air--
I should be a corpse … right
?” Morgan interjected with authority.

Beaver could only shake his head at this saying, knowing that he telling the truth.

“It is now, that you need to start looking through eyes of faith and not what you have been brainwashed to see.
Verb-bot--Luke 18:27
.” Morgan said, as he put his mechanized glove back on.

The android stirred awake and suddenly spoke in proper English—

“
Luke 18:27 ‘And he said, The things which are impossible with men are possible with God.’ End quote.”

“All things are possible through Jesus Christ who strengthens us… That’s why the Academy hates us all. We are their greatest threat, because we serve someone far, far greater than your Lame Master.” Bobble spoke sternly.

After moments of silent contemplation, this slowly made Beaver smile even wider than before. To even think that someone could far outweigh the reach and strength of the G.M. was deadly. However, serving someone that could make men survive infusions, hundreds if not thousands of people live without technological chains, and cities to be born in caves underground; sounded at first to Beaver

—like someone worth dying for.

“I know that this is seemingly too much, too soon Beaver. There is much to think about, decisions to make”--Morgan stated in a consoling manner--“While you think hard about everything that has been said--would you like to meet yourself?” he continued, trying to lighten the mood.

Beaver quickly scoffed at such an odd question, and then slowly relented with an affirmative nod. Morgan then pressed the many buttons on the dusty board, spelling out several words.

“Your name is Beaver2416 … right?” Morgan questioned.

Beaver simply nodded again, being dumbstruck by his weird questions.

“You were told time and time again, that your name was
sacred
, and endowed by the Great Master
on high
…
right
?” he again questioned.

“
Yes … so
?” Beaver squawked, still with a look of enigma. Morgan suddenly stopped his pressing of keys and pointed at the viewing device.

“Well, Beaver2416--may I proudly present to you, Beaver 0001!”

The screen brightened and all of a sudden what shone upon the crude device was a crackly, sepia toned film depicting a pudgy child with strange clothing--and an even stranger hairstyle. He was riding on something that he had seen at the Archive of Fact.

“
Is that a Bye Cycle
?” Beaver said in amazement.

“It was called a
bicycle
…” Bobble stated in correction.

Suddenly, block styled words appeared on the screen in front of the child.

“
Beaver
--it says
Beaver
.” Beaver2416 whispered to himself.

“Yes it does… and you were the 2415th person selected by an antiquated computer system, that was filled with old entertainment programs, known in the former time as ‘movies’ and ‘teleplays’; to be ‘endowed’ with the name Beaver.” Morgan relayed sarcastically.

Beaver was surprised by this stark revelation; but somehow, he felt deep inside that it was expected.

“Show me Timmy2845…” he said, wanting to know more. Morgan pressed a different sequence on the board, and all of a sudden a boy and his large pre-con dog could be seen in an equally sepia tone. Beaver laughed out loud at what he saw.

“Old Tim was named after a dog?! Ha!” He chuckled to himself.

“No… not the dog. The boy holding the dog was named Timmy.” Bobble snarked.

“Oh … ok.” Beaver quietly toned, still laughing to himself.

All of a sudden, Beaver peered at Bobble with a strange look.

“Now wait a tict! Tim … I mean Matthew always called YOU a DOG--or a BUM!
Why
?” he said with his hand on his hip in agitation.

“They were code words. B.U.M. stood for Bring Us More, meaning it was safe to bring more people into the caves. D.O.G. stood for Don’t Others Go, meaning it was too risky at this time. With his workjob location at the Archive of Fact, he always knew when the Academy started stirring. Even the word ‘dugout’ had a hidden meaning… it was a play on the words ‘do’ and ‘good.’ Everything that Matthew put in it; all the food, tools, and medicines, made it here and abroad to help everyone.” Bobble told, with a hint of sorrow.

Beaver was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. “I thought he was so arrogant and rude… only thinking of himself all the time. I didn’t know anything about who he actually was…” he said looking down at the pock marked floor.

“And he wanted it that way…” Morgan interrupted. “Also…’chop’ as he most eloquently asked about on the transport that day, means ‘Christian Has Other People’ or… in other words, another schism group somewhere had just been formed. A chop is an extremely, great thing…” Morgan told.

“How many groups are there?” Beaver asked inquisitively.