Beaver2416 (Reviler's Affray) (9 page)

Beaver’s trek through all of the lavish adornments, abruptly came to a startling end.

“
Authenticate or apprehension
!” a hulking sentry bellowed, in front of the small pathway leading to Mercurial’s office. It was fully armored with Mag-carbon, which would sweep away any form of weapon with its powerful magnetic draw. Hardwired into its left arm was a dunner with at least fifty rounds of ammunition, to instantly eradicate any threat. Into its right however, was a mid-ancient hyper-ballista that could probably destroy all of Perpetua’s offices within five ticts. This form of sentry was very expensive, and was only reserved for the absolute upper-crust of Academy Elites.

Beaver meekly waved his hand at Mercurial’s bodyguard. The sentry immediately beamed an orange hue of light at his open palm.

“
Beaver2416 … Hachiman. You are authenticated
.”   The massive robot said, as it moved aside so he could pass. Beaver nodded as he slowly took the final steps leading to Mercurial’s closed oaken door.

Only the Elites could have closed office doors at Perpetua. Beaver’s side door was the only exception, because of the high noise levels just beyond it. Many times, Beaver would sit in the corner in hidden contemplation, wondering what it would be like to have the luxury of privacy.

Imagine … To think freely without fear of torture or death--or to say whatever you feel, merely because you wanted to—
Beaver thought, as he stared at the fancy grain of the door. These ideas truly were the opulent indulgences of Imperators and Kings. They were as the mythical ambrosia or the secret manna, certainly not to be enjoyed by a peon named Beaver2416.

Privacy—what’s that
? He continued, sarcastically musing to himself in distain.

Now at the end of his office journey, he took a hard gulp of air and then gently knocked upon the door. Suddenly, the door swung open and he was greeted by the same advisor who flagged him down earlier.

“
Oh Beaver2416
… you are going to
love
what we have in store for this season!” The foppish creature exclaimed, as he grabbed Beaver by the shoulders and walked him inside Mercurial’s outer office promenade.

Beaver had to greatly restrain himself from punching him square in his pretty face.

As the door closed behind them, his heart seemingly skipped a beat as he seen Mercurial seemingly materialize into view. He was sitting in his Lev-throne in an interior meeting room. Mercurial raised his hand and motioned them in, with a smile on his face. When he moved his hand, Beaver could see the full control panel attached to his Lev-throne. In that moment, he wondered how many sequences of those saf-keys could cause him to die, if they were pressed.

“
Come in … Come in …
” Mercurial stated with glibness as he arose from his Lev-throne in the large grand meeting room.

Beaver could hardly believe what he was saying.

The Perpetua eminence meeting room, where only the finest Elites are allowed to enter, was filled with priceless paintings from each major period. The massive art collection, derived from masters such as Aristides of Thebes, Raphael, Lichtenstein, and X-Nosic; spanned from fourth century Greek to twenty-fourth
century thug, all sealed and fully encased in saph-glas. It was an absolute rarity for most Elites to enter such a hallowed area. It was far much less, for a Select from Westbrook, to have the opportunity to gaze upon such masterworks. Normally, the room is electronically sealed and filled with Nitrogen. But on this light, it seemingly bore for Beaver2416 a would-be miracle. The advisor gleefully trotted ahead of Beaver towards the open gateway. This was obviously to them, the opportunity of a lifetime. It was a chance to say to everyone else, with arrogance and haughtiness; that “
I was in the eminence meeting room
.”

Suddenly, there was a loud thud, and the eager starlet fell to the floor in pain. Beaver quickly realized that it was merely a holographic image, projected onto the plat-steel gateway.  Bellows of laughter ensued, as Mercurial appeared from behind his partially closed, adjacent inner office door.

“That was a good purchase! I’ve gotten at least twenty people with that gag so far!” Mercurial said, still laughing at the snappy dresser writhing on the office floor. With tears in his frail eyes, the advisor slowly got up and quickly dusted all their regalia off and fretted over their hair. “You still look pretty … so
suck it up
and come in.” Mercurial stated with authority, as he went to sit down in his authentic Lev-throne in his adjacent inner office.

The moments ticked by as Beaver was saturated with boring facts and figures about whom has spent the most GP on what. Beaver was there as an intermediary, to interject his opinion as to what the
common folk
thought and liked. He was also there to go along with promotional ideas, no matter how crazy or idiotic they seemed. In many ways, Beaver was just the mid-ancient man, standing on the side of the road with a sign and a chicken suit. No one really cared what the chicken-man thought …
just wear the suit and smile while doing it
. He knew never to question their motives about anything, unless he wanted gross retaliation. Luckily this time, Beaver escaped unharmed with only an upcoming holopram appearance for interviews. As well as promoting a new line in a short advertisement to deal with.  It was basic stuff that he had already done hundreds of times. Beaver didn’t mind it though, because it gave him time away from hurting people and no one really noticed what he had done anyway.

In the Archive of Fact there was a massive exhibit depicting something called
Rock-and-roll.
Beaver always thought it odd, how so many crowds of people would throng and hound these personalities to touch them or get an autograph. This of course had never happened to him even in his youth, and he was thankful for that.  His minor celebrity did not have the kind of caveats that others in the past had. This was because of the Great Master. No one was to be exalted in any way above the G.M. In fact, it was always a part of any promotion that Beaver did, to give some sort of credit or praise to the G.M. and his graciousness in allowing him to be there. This part of it made him sick to his stomach. But of course on the outside, it was always nothing but smiles and flattery.

“It is settled then …
SdotG.
” Mercurial balked, ending the meeting. Beaver and the rest of the handful of people in his large office, lifted their hands in salute and repeated the same. Beaver made a sigh of relief because his work day was now over, and he could go home. Like a herd of cattle, everyone scattered out of the office, including Mercurial. The thought of
closing time
had not changed in all the decas since its inception. People still wanted to get home as soon as possible, regardless of what waited for them there. If even for a moment-- Beaver2416 felt free when he burst forth from the offices of Perpetua, into the fading light outside.

In front of him was a massive crowd, wrestling with each passing transport. He always waited at the back, avoiding such bustle. He also waited, until he would see Timmy2845 materialize into view. Usually, they both would leave their work-jobs at the same time. But there were times, in which Timmy would be later because of some sort of mess at the Archive of Fact. As Beaver patiently stood idle, lingering for the crowds to disburse; he thought hard about today’s trip to Mercurial’s office. He thought even harder about the Cumal ring fixed upon Mercurial’s hand.

What if he becomes stronger?
Beaver pondered with great uneasiness. Unlike so many blind followers, he knew that the G.M. was just a man.

What if he was overtaken, by some unseen force? Would it trigger another Great Conflict?
Beaver quickly tried to empty his mind of such musings. These sorts of thoughts were deadly to him. You were never to question the Elites or the G.M.’s ideas or motives. Still, something in the back of his Sociopathic brain kept this idea perpetuating, every time he was in the presence of Mercurial.

The crowd had greatly dwindled, and Beaver looked furiously for his friend. Still, Timmy was nowhere to be found. Only once in the past, Timmy had missed the transport. It was because of a container of smuggled Einsteinium that a worker had unsuspectingly opened and spilled on themselves and the floor of the Propagation room. It was one of the rare times that Beaver had fully watched the Nightly Report hoping for answers. Sure enough, there were details about the spill, and even Timmy2845 was interviewed. (With his words delayed and greatly edited for content) The worker had received radiation burns to over Eighty percent of their body. So, instead of any medicinal treatments or pharmacological protocols to be administered, she was infused. The official Academy reason was because they were not following safety procedures, and jeopardized the health and well-being of everyone else. But truly, there are no safety procedures. Propagators were expendable in the Academy’s eyes, and if they died there were more to take their place. This thought alone worried Beaver greatly.

As Beaver reluctantly entered the last transport before dark, he could only hope that something of the caliber of that spill had happened, and Tim was safe. As it began to pick up speed, all Beaver could do is look towards the back, wishing that Timmy would appear, and run to catch up. Sadly, the transport sped away without him.

Maybe … he got on earlier
he thought. He wanted to believe that Tim was already home and he had left him.

However, this idea made him feel very uneasy.

The walk home, down the prismatic lighted pathway was drudgery to Beaver. He kept stalling and turning, hoping for a semblance of his friend to breach the horizon. As he slowly ascended the steps to his domicile, the sirens had already sounded. Luckily, Beaver stepped inside his home before they had stopped.

“
You were almost late!--And I made all this food for you
!” the victual android said in a perturbed tone, with its robotic hand on its robotic hip. In many ways, these types of robots were designed to be like a stereotypical mid-ancient housewife. Or at least, what was portrayed at the Archive of Fact that a mid-ancient
housewife
was supposed to act like.

“
I’m sorry
…” Beaver said in a dejected tone, slowly inching towards the Lev-seat. He thought this required
mea culpa-upon-almost tardy
was so ignorant, because he knew that it was still at least half a proc till the android was actually done.

“That is agreeable …” the android spoke as it returned to its work.

He never wanted to do it, but this dark he had to. Beaver sighed with aggravation as he sat in the Lev-seat. It was far before the Nightly Report, so anything that was playing, was nothing but annoying to Beaver. It was this great annoyance, which he was willing to bear for a small portion of information. He just had to know if something that had happened at the Archive of Fact that prevented Timmy from making the transport. Beaver sat motionless for what seemed like spans watching the progscreen, hoping for an interruption of anything that had real value. He was visibly worried. Timmy2845 was his only friend, and his hardened heart deeply cared for him. In those moments, more than anything; Beaver wanted to see something of hope splash across the progscreen. Sadly, as the ticts went by, other than pro-Acad propaganda; there was nothing to be found.

“
Meal time Beaver2416
…” The victual android sounded.

Reluctantly, Beaver rose from the seat and crept towards the uncomfortable stool. The weight of not knowing greatly pressed upon Beaver’s mind. All he could think of was the glimmer of optimism he held on to, towards the yet unseen Nightly Report.
Maybe…they will tell something
, Beaver thought with his faith fading, as the progscreen continued to blare in the background.

Chapter 6:

When he was almost done with his meal, suddenly--the ADA-lasers pulsated rapidly.

“
Intruder! You are not authorized!
”--filled the air, followed by the ear-piercing shriek of a siren.

Beaver quickly looked up from his food, and gazed towards the threshold.

It was Timmy2845
!

He barged through the entryway, falling to the floor with a commanding heave.

“
I wouldn’t let them destroy it! I couldn’t!
” Tim cried in a panic.

Beaver leaped to his feet, and dashed to the side of his fallen friend. He had gaping wounds all over his body from the countless mechanized attacks. He was overcome with panic as he looked closely at Tim.

“
How … How did you get here?
!”—Beaver barked in frenzy, not knowing what to logically say.

“
Here …
” Tim said shoving a square object into the arms of Beaver.

Beaver clutched the item and held it close as if it were a newborn. Then suddenly, Tim’s body began to vibrate violently. His visage quickly went from that of intense pain, to that of sheer joy as began to fade into vapour.

“
Jesus is the LORD!
” Timmy said with his last breath, gazing at Beaver2416 with a smile on his face.

Beaver could only reach and pound hard on the floor as he disappeared into the atmosphere.

Suddenly, Beaver’s mind was insanely overcome with the pulsing images of the bunker, and the church, and his father’s death.

This phrase … this PHRASE!?!?!

--
His mind raced to the point of seemingly exploding.

Beaver cried out with an overwhelming pang of sheer emotion.

“
NO
!!!” He flooded with the feeling of rage.

His heart boomed with the heart attack rhythm of vengeance and hatred. His logic melted into a primal state of carnality. The infusion of his friend--his only friend made Beaver swell with the singular thoughts of murder. He now had the taste of blood upon his lips and he wanted to kill.

“
HEATHEN
!!!” Beaver shouted to the top of his lungs, with all his might.

“
Intruder consumed … all is well
.” The entryway said in a loud voice, as all of the sirens quieted.

These synthesized words made him shutter and tic like they were trying to pierce his very brain. After a few moments of motionlessness, this singular comment somehow reinstated Beaver’s sociopathy and logical fear. Feelings of dread and worry quickly engulfed his mentality. He could only sit breathless, still crouched on the floor.

There is nothing I can do … right now--
He haphazardly thought, as he even more tightly clutched Tim’s mystery. His heart rhythm quickly returned to normal, as he had to re-learn the ability to stand up. Mid-way in his assent, he closed his eyes in quivering; upon hearing a familiar voice that he loathed with a passion.

“Why are you shouting Beaver2416,
is problem there
?!”--Viki demanded with widened irises.

“
N…no…no Viki. Nothing at all
…” Beaver nervously spoke.

His rage for his fallen friend, was now cascaded into stark logical fear.

“
I DON’T BELIEVE YOU
!” the Victual Android shouted in an angered tone.

The android then beamed from its left arm-like appendage, a greenish, strobe-light at Beaver. It oscillated up and down Beaver’s body, scanning him for anything that was not acceptable by the Academy. Beaver shut his eyes in utter fright and held his breath. He knew at any moment it would alert the Foot troops of his contraband, and he too would probably die. All at once, the entire house fell silent as the robot stopped its scanning. He knew that within a tict, he would be attacked and the sirens would again blare. He retained his breath-hold to the point of almost passing out, yet nothing…
nothing
.

Beaver hesitantly opened his eyes and let out a single, short breath.

The android tilted its head from side to side as it was thinking, trying to logically assess the situation. Suddenly, Viki’s irises returned to normal and it spoke.

“
Are you cold Beaver2416?
I will increase the therma--” It said with a lifted hand.

Beaver cautiously let out another single breath.

“
Y…ye…yes Viki…I…I am freezing
.” he said, as he started to frantically shiver.

He did not know what had just happened, but his sociopathic mind compelled him to play along.

The robot turned around and keyed a locked pressure plate, adjusting the domicile environmental controls.

“
Hopeful this is to licking…
” the android spoke, as it went back to its domestic duties. 

“
Yes…yes…Viki! Wonderful!
” Beaver nervously interjected. He let out a delayed sigh, and with his object close he carefully stood the rest of the way to his feet. Then, very slowly as if he were a thief slinking across the floor; he returned to his normal nightly position, prostrated on the uncomfortable stool.

Whatever this object is that Timmy was willing to die for, it can somewhat fool all of the sentries and androids
--Beaver thought rapidly.

How much, was something that Beaver was not willing to gamble with. He was far too filled with logical fear to examine it. Any wrong motion could cause it to be discovered. He continued holding it as close to his body as possible. As he sat hugging Timmy’s would-be legacy, he started to feel emotions that were locked deep within his heart. His friend was now dead … infused like all of the others that existed in the bunker. Beaver wanted to cry and wail like never before, but his own mind prevented him.

Will anyone even know that we existed?
Beaver mournfully thought, as he sat there motionless. Every shred of hope or faith in anything that he had was now gone. He knew that now, he was the last one from the
church
. He was the only one that could tell their tale; even though in his mind it was very incomplete.

As he sat, his thoughts morphed from rage and grief, to tactics and plans. Beaver knew that getting yourself killed would never solve or change anything. He needed to find out whatever this was and how to use it.

No … Timmy wasn’t dumb--
he thought--
This thing must be very, very important.

He knew that he needed to hide it somewhere, at least until the next Decision day. Staring with the intensity of the ancient cobra, Beaver fixed his gazed upon the victual android. He slowly and carefully began to slide the object down his body, towards his hammer-sack. It is a small utility pouch for Work-job tools, molded into the right thigh side of every oversuit.

He knew that he couldn’t keep it there, because it would be discovered and destroyed by the nice ceil bot or the autonomous launderer, when they removed his oversuit. But, this action could buy him some more time, as he frenetically thought where to put it later. With it within riegers of its destination, he carefully began to fold the enigma. Then incrementally, he slipped it inside the hard-molded pouch. Beaver let out a great sigh of relief as the metal clasp finally clicked shut. Suddenly, he felt a thud ramming into his side. Beaver’s heart seemingly stopped beating.

They found it … I’m going to die!
He thought in a panic.

He shook with logical fear as he slowly began to look behind him.

“
Sorry Beet
…” The Vacu-bot said, as it passed by to clean up the mess in the floor, caused by what had happened.

With a euphoric purge of his false assumptions realized, Beaver could not help but laugh out loud.

“My my … you are jolly this day.” The victual android interjected.

“Yes Viki, I am …” Beaver said with a false glibness.

Beaver was far from happy about anything. His sociopathy projected happiness, but inside he was still violent and savage about what had transpired. As Beaver sat plotting revenge, he was once again interrupted by a tray being set in front of him.

It was Horse loaf again. Beaver wanted to throw the tray in a rage at Viki, yet he held his peace for Timmy’s sake.

“Is it well, sir?” the Victual android interjected, studying Beaver’s eyes.

Beaver just nodded.

The Android’s irises widened.

“Is it not well, sir?” it said with a more demanding tone.

Beaver tried with all his strength to bring a smile upon his face. He crinkled his lips and spoke. “
Wonderful Viki … the best
!” he said vibrating with hidden anger.

“That is agreeable, sir.”

It once again turned and returned to its work.

This time, the brownish square sitting in front of Beaver smelled like to him, the burning of sulfur. It reminded him of his childhood, during the Great Conflict. There was so much hatred and death that lied just beyond the reinforced walls of the bunker. Sometimes, the smell of it all would seep into their filtration system. His hardened mind was unanticipatedly filled with locked away memories of his life in the bunker. He abruptly remembered that Timmy and he would play frequently; running and yelling without a care at all in the world. They would sing songs, and play games, and make childish things together. Beaver was happy, smiling and frequently jumping about with his best friend.

“
James…”
Beaver whispered. He was suddenly again overwhelmed with locked away emotion. Tears of sorrow began to well up in his eyes. At their apex, the point of spilling over and falling to the ground below, his tears suddenly retreated at a familiar, unwanted sound.

“
Is it not well, sir
?” the Victual android barked with widened irises.

“
Great Viki! Just great …
” Beaver said, as he now began eating an unwanted meal.

“
Splendid!
” 

The android’s irises returned to normal size, as it once again turned and began working. 

The last thing that Beaver wanted to do is eat something, but he knew that he had to follow the normal patterns. He had to not cause any sort of suspicion to arise. As Beaver was finishing, the progscreen flashed rapidly its usual drivel, and aural waves filled the air with music. Abruptly, Academicis meis, mi Adoráte sounded once again throughout the streets of Westbrook. As Beaver and Viki stood
de novo
with their arms raised in salute, each and every Progscreen throughout New Judah flashed the same boring images of patriotism and heroes and heroines of the Great Conflict. Then, there was reverent silence as the Great Master appeared as always to give stale and colorless lecture.

“Greetings my faithful subjects …” he bellowed, as he began his nightly address.

As the G.M. proclaimed his hot air, all Beaver could think about was what was hiding in his hammer-sack.

“
Where to put it…Where?
” he expeditiously thought as he scanned the room with his eyes. The Academy issued dwelling where he resided was filled to the brim with pitfalls. If an android didn’t see it, the Vacu-bot would. If the ADA-lasers didn’t discover it, the ceil-bots would. This enigma that filled Beaver’s mind was much like the same dilemmas faced by the incarcerated prisoners of the mid-ancient period. However, much more than a metal shank or smuggled drugs; this item was to Timmy, worth dying for. 

After a proc of mundane reciprocity, the illuminated one ended his monologue with the overused tagline, “Strength, Discipline, Order…My word is truth, my word is god.” Then, the progscreen faded to black and the victual android lowered its arms and spun back around.

“
SdotG …
” Beaver said as he slowly dropped his arms from his salute. He was visibly upset from not yet finding a suitable hiding place. He slowly took his place sitting on the uncomfortable stool, to keep with his everydark patterns. As he prostrated quietly eating the final scraps of his meal, his mental gears were still turning.

THINK! THINK!
--He mentally kept echoing to himself.

He had to get rid of it soon, especially before he entered the sleep chamber. The first tict he entered the sleep chamber, everything that Timmy believed in and died for would be destroyed. Beaver knew that he would probably be destroyed as well. Every nuance of his boring existence in his domicile was now worth more than his own life, because finding some sort of flaw in them greatly depended on it.

It was not much longer before the Vacu-bot would appear again, as it was programmed to do every night after the Great Master’s address. Normally, this would be cause for disregard and possibly a few choice words towards it. However, as it slowly approached; Beaver frantically studied every part of this cleaning nuisance like never before, for anything useful to his crusade. He put his hand on top of the clasp of his hammer-sack anticipating something, anything on the vacu-bot’s cladded body that could conceal this secret.