The Conduit: Chapter 11

At the edge of death, there is nothing one won't do to survive. Under the beating sun of a hellscape of desert and rock, being lost for days is a sure way to meet one's end. With the tenaciousness of a thousand soldiers, even the most demure might make it, if they're lucky or willing to suffer. And it was suffering felt beneath the heat of the midday so long ago.

A set of sore and blistered feet gingerly pressed against the sand beneath a harsh red sun above. Waves of thermal energy bounced from the ground into the air surrounding the only soul for miles. At the edge of death, a weakened voice prayed for salvation, only to find it in damnation.

They were the feet of a young woman who stumbled across the overheated Earth until finding her way to the cooler waters washing against the shore. Bending at the waist, the woman used her hands to cup enough water to her mouth. She sipped, ever so slightly, she was afraid it would upset her insides after going without for so long a time.

The odor coming from her reminded her it had been days since she cleaned herself. With a quick glance around the sparsely populated area, she let the rags covering her body fall and walked slowly into the water. Goosebumps erupted across her cocoa-like flesh as she waded in past her hips and disappeared into the oasis. Coming back up moments later, she almost wore a smile on her face. The pleasant sensation of bathing beneath the hot, reddish sun was a reminder that she’d been freed from her bonds.

As a young girl, her father betrayed her and forced her into the bonds of servitude, a slight she couldn’t live with any longer. Now, she was free of the subservient role thrust upon her seemingly from birth. It only seemed that way, to her, because she could remember no other role. Unlike most girls, she could remember no other time in her brief history in which she did not serve. She either served her father’s demands or those of another.

In the beginning, she didn’t mind her place. All things considered, it was a peaceful existence. Her father explained her need there, and she considered it a privilege to help. But she was not to overstep her boundaries when the men spoke to one another. Her place was clearly beneath them in both her social standing and when it came to the needs of serving her husband. This fate was thrust upon her, and it was one she slowly grew to disapprove of.

Rather than sicken herself by just lying there, taking the role of concubine, she tried to turn the coin and exercise a little independence, voicing her needs. It was not to be. It was as if nobody heard her plea, her words falling on deaf ears. She was not allowed to have a mind of her own, much less control of her body. And going to her father for guidance, for help, was not going to change her situation. It took little time before realizing she would have to take drastic and unthinkable actions on her own if she were to ever experience freedom, happiness, or love that she deserved.

That was why she set out on her own, leaving the protected society she was a part of, leaving the watchful eye of her mate, and the controlling eye of her father, to find a sense in herself. She’d traveled for days, realizing the risks of departing without planning her escape. Making the mistake of not bringing much food or water, it had taken nearly ten cycles before she found her way to the oasis she started splashing around in before she found her way to her little paradise. Waters were fast cleansing her spirit and rejuvenating her body; the child-like innocence she couldn’t remember enjoying showed through for the first time.

This was to be her first miracle. Finding freedom in the middle of such strange and tumultuous times it wasn’t guaranteed. The woman didn’t know the world like her counterpart she’d left behind. She only knew what ideas were thrust upon her, echoing through her brain, still telling her who and what she was to be to the world. Now, staring at her reflection and admiring her own beauty, she was able to decide for the first time. She could now decide for herself, who was she? Right then and there, she was as clueless to who she was as a newborn still covered in the fluids of birthing. All she knew was she was free.

The voices echoed. Was she hearing them in her head as they talked to her? Turning toward the shore, she saw them standing upon the sands. Her father had sent the dark ones to retrieve her. She slowly rose from the sea, walking to meet them, her moistened, nubile skin on full display, and with no shame. Picking up the clothing made of rag, she looked upon her would-be captors with venomous eyes.

“You must come home,” ordered Senoy.

“How could I?”

“For you to refuse is to court death,” suggested Semangel. “Is this what you seek?”

“Do not forget what my father bestowed upon me even as a lesser being.”

“You do not mean…” Sansenoy couldn’t fathom what she was insinuating. But he knew it to be the truth.

As the three “dark ones” pleaded with the daughter of their master, the seas behind her bubbled and displayed an aura. She may not have known what she’d done, but Senoy, Semangel, and Sansenoy knew who she was and what she was capable of. Their pleas were in vain; she was not going to go home with them. The woman in front of them was different than the one they knew before she left the only lands she’d ever known. Her time in the desert had changed her, and she was now exhibiting power even her father feared would come.

“Child, you know what happens next,” announced Senoy, the strongest of the dark ones.

“I do, as do you. But, if you leave me behind, I promise this…”

The three listened to her bargain, knowing it was futile to think she’d come along willingly. The woman was exhibiting her power and possibility within her, and as she began to realize who she was, she would be unquenched. They agreed to return without her, promising that her father would be less forgiving than they.

“Let him do what he must, but I cannot return to the role he thrust upon me.”

And with that, they were gone. She lay on the sands in the hot arid sun as it warmed her flesh. This was to be her oasis of peace as she built her strength. In her mind, she knew who she was and was picturing where she came from. She’d escaped the forced shackles of the paradise her father envisioned for her and the servitude of being in such an arranged relationship with another. She was now free to do as she pleased.

As she lay there, the horrible truth of her life came to bear. Her father’s wrath struck down upon her with infuriating authority. It hadn’t taken long, only a day, before the lack of mercy showed through.

Jane woke from a deep sleep, sweat pouring down her cheeks, covering her heaving chest as she breathed rapidly. One of the officers assigned to watch her cell picked up a phone and called for Commander Shepherd. This was new, and it was worth reporting to the commander.

Moments later, Doctor Reimers and Commander Shepherd were in the control center. After hearing the description of what the officer witnessed, Susan told Max that the girl had suffered a traumatic nightmare. She replayed the video from the moments before she opened her eyes.

“There, rapid eye movements, she was dreaming about something, and judging by the way she woke up startled, it was something from her past,” explained Susan.

“Should we talk to her?”

Susan hesitated before explaining the psychological side of traumatic memories and how she could still be consciously unaware. Essentially, she told them, there’s no way to tell if she’ll recall what she was dreaming. She may only be aware of how frightening it was.

“I’m going in there,” said Max.

Max walked out of the control center, committed to finding answers about Jane. This was the first time she’d shown an emotional response to anything. He wanted to use that to his advantage. When he walked in, he picked up a chair and sat near the access point. Max opened the field surrounding her and began to get her attention.

“Good morning, Jane. The guys tell me you had a rough night,” he confided.

Jane stood and slowly walked to the opening. She sat facing the commander. Her eyes were puffy, as if she’d been crying. Her face was more expressive than normal. She looked past the commander, seeing the doctor enter the room. She stared at Susan as Susan stood behind Max, her arms folded.

“Hello, doctor. I’m okay,” she promised.

“That’s good to hear, Jane. But you were restless,” Max stated. “Do you know why?”

Jane remembered the dream she had. She remembered the image of a woman at peace with the world until she found herself stuck between the role she escaped and the role she stepped into. The woman was taken from her oasis, taken by things not known to man. They were the old ones, the first of their kind, and had been gone for many generations.

“I was dreaming of someone in trouble.”

“Do you know how it was?” asked Susan.

Max sat, watching Jane ponder an answer to the question. Jane was clearly upset by the dream, but her expressions were more reflective than fearful. She let a tear from her left eye as Max watched her, feeling somehow sorry that the poor girl was in the predicament she was.

“Can you imagine being sold into a role, a role you did not like. Then escaping, only to be thrust into another role, a role of which you hadn’t planned or sought out. Always in a role that isn’t what you are until you suddenly become different?” asked Jane.

“It sounds like a very abusive relationship,” sighed Max.

“Yes,” smiled Jane. “Abusive, I like that term for what that would be. I dreamt of a woman trapped in an abusive relationship. Sold by her father into a servant marriage, never one of equality, barely more than a piece of meat. When she escaped, she found herself in a paradise of her own after days of being in a hellscape, nearly dying of thirst. But her father wouldn’t allow her to be happy. He sent his minions to retrieve her, and when she didn’t return with them, used his power to punish her.”

“How horrible,” Susan admitted.

Jane saw the woman on the beach, lying there, enjoying the reddish sun as it warmed every inch of her. She’d escaped the bonds of servitude, only to be taken by something else. Her oasis was no paradise. Instead, it was a place of great evil.

“Why do you think you were dreaming such things?” asked Susan.

Deep down inside, Jane didn’t understand why she’d dreamt of such a rancid story. She felt dirtied by it, the story so vivid. She could feel the warmth of the reddish sun on her skin, as if she were there. The howl of the winds around the oasis echoed in her imagination, and the sulfuric stench of things clawing their way out of the deep earth still stuck in her nostrils, confused her.

“I might have witnessed it,” she admitted. “I think I was there, but that’s impossible.”

Susan assured her that sometimes a dream is just a dream. Dreams fall into two categories one being that they have no meaning and are strange adaptations from our imagination, and the other that they mean something to us, but that meaning can be locked away in our subconscious. Jane was young, young enough that something horrific in her childhood might be locked away, and that was a way of protecting herself from the trauma.

“Why do you think it’s impossible?” asked Max.

Jane looked at him, and a shy smile appeared on her face. She saw flashes in her mind, flashes of Max. Max stood on a deck near the water, anxiously watching something fade from his view. The look on his face was one of powerlessness, as if he had failed. Max was going to make a mistake.

“Impossible, I’m sorry commander. I misspoke,” she promised. “I’m still tired, can I lie down?”

“Of course, Jane. I’ll come to see you later for our normal appointment. You get some rest,” Susan told her, grabbing Max by the shirt sleeve.

Max followed Susan into the control center, demanding to know what she’d just done. He wanted to continue to question the girl. Max felt like she was holding back, possibly keeping something about her origin from them.

“Come on, what the hell was that? Why did you pull me out of there?”

“It was the way she smiled at you,” admitted Susan. “I think her dream was more than a dream. It was a past-life experience.”

“It was way to bizarre to be a real-life experience,” suggested Max. “And if it wasn’t, who the hell is her father?”

“I don’t know, Max.”

Susan looked at Jane on the monitor from behind the one-way glass. She looked into the detention unit. Jane had not lain down, but was staring at the glass, her hands shimmering around the magnetic field keeping her inside. Susan felt the same as Max. The girl was being deceptive about something. She wasn’t the innocent she appeared to be.

The woman in the desert lay bare on the sands, surrounded by things that shouldn’t exist. She looked into the eyes of a horned creature walking on two legs. Its brownish skin, strangely shaped body, and cloven-hoofed feet told it was not like her. The beast reached down to her, offering a hand.

She accepted the hand of the beast, allowing it to pull her to him. The beast wrapped its bony-protrusion-covered arms around her, holding her naked flesh against its seven-foot frame. She looked up at him, deeply into his eyes, as his massive wings erupted from his supremely powerful shoulders. The beast looked down at her, his burnt features getting closer until his wretched mouth touched hers.

Her hands washed over the beast slowly as she gave in to the beast’s powerful magnetism. She had little she could do but surrender among the many creatures that surrounded the enigma holding her to it. A strange feeling permeated her being as she felt his power mixed with hers. She was now under the spell of the beast, a spell that was all the more enticing because of the freedom it would give.

As their beings mixed, the innocence of youth disappeared, and her power bloomed inside of her. Not once, not twice, but multiple times did the explosions of life escape from within. Never in her bleak existence had she felt such strength, such joy, and such clarity of purpose.

A satiated feeling, new and enticing, overcame her as she was left to lie on the warm sands of the beach near the blood red waters. She looked upon them in shock. What was her peaceful reprieve from the dreams of her father was now the epicenter of all things unholy. She was trapped in a world of lust, hunger, and thirst, one that doomed her forever. But it was a forever of darkness. Her legacy would be formed over the millennia, and her name would be unknown to those not of her kind.

She was the first, and to be sure, not the last. Her father’s wrath cursed her existence for all time, and now she would make the world aware. His newest children, if left unprotected, would be her victims, and his favorite thing would be her storming ground. As she watched her legacy rapidly unfold in the waters, she promised to make the world theirs before those who followed her father. She only needed to learn how to do so.