Who's Gonna Save Our Souls? Story: Part 1

Anika awoke from a less than peaceful sleep, in which her subconscious had succumbed to the painful recollections of a life of sadness. In the present climate, sadness was only a distant memory. She pressed the button on the side of her sleep enhancer and rose to find her roommates conversing in perfect harmony with one another, faintly whispering about their dreams; they seemed to be dreams of grandeur.

“When one knows that the key to success is only fingertips away, it is hard for one to resist.” John exclaimed, to his gathering listeners. The listeners were extensive, and mostly women, Anika noted, for John’s popularity stemmed from his consistent womanising personality.

“I dreamt of success greater than the President of New World. Greater than every....” he continued, lost in thought.

Frivolous as John was, the seriousness of his claim of success stemmed from his intense, calculating ambition. His attitude was simply ‘all for one,’ as he stood there with his head and soul raised high, deeming himself ready to be presented to the masses.

Anika clambered out of her sleep pod and habitually deactivated it. She didn’t have any interest in listening to John’s tales. Furthermore, she was still shaken from the visions that plagued a nightmare over and over in her head every night. Nightmares were the stuff of legend, and they were about as real now as homelessness, poverty and degradation were. In other words, everything was right here. So why, every time her body fell into slumber, did she shake with the anticipation of what the night would bring?

Anika had no memories of old life. No memories of when things were difficult and hardship coated the world. She was conditioned to believe in happiness and purity above any form of complex emotional ranges. Her parents had sent her to one of the most respected communities in the area of New Britain, in the hope that the tantalising optimism would shine a light onto what she should, and could be. Anika had been here for two years now, and was as much disheartened, and unsurprised, to learn that her peers did nothing to calm her fragile state of mind.

Unaware of how much she was lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice Adam approaching her. He wore a sweet smile, and his simplistic features mirrored his grounded nature. Adam was kind to her, but never truly understanding or reckoning with her want to break away from civilisation.

“But everything is great here Anika,” he had once told her. “What can be better than holding the purest form of happiness in your hands?”

Anika never had an answer to Adam’s questions. She didn’t think she ever would. She knew he would never fully understand her inclination that happiness was a far cry from today’s modernity.

“Morning,” he said, continuing to smile, “It’s time we were up.”

Anika attempted to smile back, but her eyes kept diverting to John’s group, which now consisted of Larone, Alice and Penelope. Their conversation had seemingly taken a new turn.

“To take is all there is in this world, Alice,” John said, inspiring admiration. “People who give are left with nothing, and people who take are the ones that persevere through the hardest of times.”

Anika, now accompanied by Adam, slowly made their way to join up with them; she still felt agitated from her restless night, and was unable to hold back her mark of disapproval.

“At least the people who give, spend their lives feeling as if they have accomplished more than a childish want for unnecessary power,” she announced, confidently.

John’s eyelids narrowed as he looked Anika up and down.

“Don’t let the president hear you say that Annie, or you’ll find yourself with no choice but to adopt The Silence Treatment,” he sneered at her.

The others simply avoided Anika’s eyes, never quite knowing what to say to her, as the tension between John and Anika was something that everyone was accustomed to. The Silence Treatment was an age-old myth, or so they hoped, used most commonly to scare and indoctrinate young children into obeying orders. The artificial sunlight shone piercingly through the window, and saved the ever-growing strained atmosphere between them, as an automated face prepared them for the day that was ahead.

“Here in our designated happy lives, we feel no need for sadness, fear, despair. We need only know the knowledge of happiness that has prevailed within our civilisation for centuries. Sweet dreams are made of this, my old friends,” the interface stated, smiling endearingly.

Down in the great hall, the directors were tossing their authority and orders this way and that, preparing everyone for the daily tasks that lay ahead. Anika’s group was to be assigned to the outskirts of the city, right on the edges of the New Britain civilisation.

“We can’t let those primitives start interfering with matters beyond their understanding,” a man said in a deep cough. Anika noted him as Damien, recognisable from his voice, which was rich with a reputable undertone. “This week, we’ve filed an extremity of cases linked to their unusual behaviours, and it’s important that our monitoring is stepped up. The President will be visiting our town in the upcoming weeks and we must be prepared.”

Prepared for what? Anika thought. To show the president that we are all happy and everything is running smoothly, as usual. To ensure that anything impure is not allowed past our gates, when the definition of impure is growing further from the truth every day.

Damien rounded everyone up for the trip to the outskirts, and they boarded the Lomanian craft, fully equipped and prepared for the tasks that lay ahead.

Anika sat next to Adam, and was sure to maintain an appropriate distance. Anika knew he was fond of her, and wasn’t prepared to let him get the better of her; not today.

“Don’t you think the city is beautiful,” he remarked, when they were up hovering up in the air, between the array of clouds. “I’ve dreamt of skylines not dissimilar to these, stretched out far above us.”

John proceeds to snort, evidently listening in to their conversation, “New Britain is a city just like any other these days. We’re not privileged to live here Adam; we were made and conditioned to live here, just like everyone else.” He cast an accusing glance at Anika as he said this, and she returned the gaze, unfaltered.

Adam continued to stare out of the window, now silent, but apparently not phased by John’s exclamation. Anika, whilst tempted to defend him, said nothing.

John continued to portray his exultation at not being challenged, and resumed his conversation with Larone.

The pilot, Anika later found out, was part of the fourth-caste; members who were brought to New Britain to prove and gain distance from the colonies outside of the bordered land. Nevertheless, the difference between the fourth and fifth castes were significant in Lomanian times, as the fifths were branded as savages, not fit to live, or even breathe the same air as the rest of the hierarchy.

The pilot began to proclaim in a loud voice, in order to speak over the loud hum of the engine, pulling Anika from her thoughts. “Th time’s not lon, me friends, for we’ll be arriving at this place. Car’ul n’ watch your step.”

The craft began a slow descent into the plain, deserted lands, the home to many stations which had been set up to carry out the mandatory tests. Anika could see the rest of the borderlands shrouded in a low, hazy fog, in order to keep the 'others' out. As they met the ground with a judder, they packed up their equipment and stepped out one by one, being careful not to collide too harshly with the rocky environment underfoot. It was like a wasteland. Anika bid goodbye to the pilot, and watched him fire up the Lomanian and disappear through the haze of smoke; they were alone.

John, needing no further persuasion, wandered off into the distance, and called everyone to follow his lead, as they “….need to get everything completed by nightfall,” he explained.

Unaccustomed to following John’s commands, Anika proceeded cautiously, not used to the way the air felt heavy and clammy, as if the distance between the particles was extensive. She coughed briefly as she followed the others, not understanding how anyone could live in these extreme conditions.

In the near distance, the group made out a building made of pure concrete, a rarity in the city. Now, everything was made out of a material called Tenon, a strong insulator, and capable of withstanding disastrous damage. This building looked like it was going to crumble at any given moment, and crush them with it’s ferocity.

“Come on!” John called, more agitated than usual; clearly the harsh atmosphere was affecting him too, more than he cared to admit.

Upon arriving at the concrete building, they opened the door to find some equally dark, concrete rooms. Materials and equipment left by previous groups lined the floors and the counters, along with extremely old technology that was currently under investigation. Undoubtedly, in order to assess their usability by the primitives.

John moved towards the centre of the room, and let his equipment fall off his shoulders, haphazardly. “The tasks are quite simple,” he described. “We are to analyse the remainder of this equipment, found beyond the fencing, to look at the interference. Then, we are to put in more measures to restrict the movement of the primitives, and to keep them on the west side of these lands. Damien explained that there is due to be an instalment of a Tenon Curtain; a large structure that will extend across the wastelands, protecting the city for good. Our job is to ensure that it goes ahead. Is that understood?”

The others nodded at him in obedience, but Anika walked towards him in protest, “Who put you in charge, John?” she questioned, glaring at him.

He stood his ground. “Damien did, since he knows my loyalty to the safety and security of New Britain, which is more than can be said for you, Anika,” he emphasised her name in repugnance. “We all know you’d rather not be here, so why don’t you do us all a favour and leave!” he finished, spitting.

Anika was about to respond, but was left speechless, which only heeded to satisfy John more. “Now in case anyone else has an objection, I suggest we get to work!” he announced, agitated.

Anika moved to a small, dusty room to her left, accompanied by Adam, who held out his hand to give her a mask.

“Thanks,” she muttered quietly. “You’d think the investigators would keep these buildings more pristine, wouldn’t you?”

“Ah, no Annie, you see...” he went on, “they want to make sure a respectable distance is kept between our civilisation, and theirs,” he said, inadvertently shivering. “Since these buildings are further towards the Other-land, we have to make sure that they act as a separation from the city.”

“They can’t be that bad, can they? They’re just like us really,” Anika continued, focusing more on the Other-worlders, than on Adam’s explanation, which she found hard to wrap her head around.

Adam shifted uncomfortably, as he used an electronic magnifier on the wooden desk next to her. He stopped and looked down at her. “You really don’t know anything about them do you?” he questioned, skeptically.

“Not enough to know why everyone treats them with disdain. In a world like this, don’t you think we should be embracing our differences?”

Adam laughs uneasily. “You have some very unusual ideas, Annie,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts.

Anika didn’t say anything else, but couldn’t help worrying herself about some of the things she had said. What if the Other-worlders were exactly how everyone described them? She suppressed a shudder, remembering the way the fog covered the fence on the west side of the plains. What could possibly lie beyond there?

Shuffling through some old boxes, she pushed back an old, mattered multicoloured curtain to find an older-looking tattered box, filled with what she recollected as books.

“Here, Adam, come and look at this,” she called over to him.

He staggered across the room, disturbing the accumulation of dust on the floor, and looked down at what Anika was staring at, and subsequently pulling out from behind the curtain.

She began wiping away some more of the dust on one of the books, and uncovered the title ‘Holy Bible,’ written on the front in big black letters.

“Bible? What’s that?” she questioned, curiously. Adam looked at her with concern in his eyes, and attempted to push the Bible out of view with his hands.

“What are you doing?” she challenged, annoyed with his strange behaviour towards her.

“You mustn’t Annie,” he whispered. “Please, put it away,” he said, desperation in his voice now. His eyes spoke some unspoken truth that Anika couldn’t, or perhaps wouldn’t, understand.

“Too late,” a voice rose from the door behind them.

John was standing in the doorway, swinging in satisfaction, and taking off his mask.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here,” he says, swiping the Bible from Adam’s hands. Adam stood there looking continually sheepish, but Anika stared straight back at John, unphased.

“Can someone please tell me what on New World is going on,” she demanded.

“Oh Annie,” John spoke patronisingly. “This is what’s known as a Bible. A pure example of what I call, primitive junk. They used to follow it’s teaching in the old days. It spoke of a Messiah, who visited the world in around 4BC, who saved them all from sins,” she smirked in amusement. “Look how far it got them.”

John proceeded to open the dusty pages of the book, and putting on a mocking tone, he said “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called. Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace,” he paused. “What utter rubbish,” and flung the book across the other side of the room, approaching Anika stealthily.

“When I give orders, I expect the tasks to be carried out. You’re supposed to be analysing the equipment, not desperately looking at ways to save your soul,” he laughed loudly. “Pathetic.”

With that, he left the room. Adam said nothing, just continued on with the work he was doing, but all Anika could think about was what the Bible was doing in this building and what it was all about?

The sun had started it’s descent on the horizon as Anika scrambled to her feet. Her and Adam had managed to sort the equipment into their relevant places and had boxed them ready for their relevant inspections the following day. Anika took one last look at the box containing the Bible on her way out of the room, and clambered outside, trying not to trip over the unruly ground. The wind had picked up outside, and the gravel was creating huge clouds of dust that hovered over them like warnings. The dark yellow of the sun illuminated the hills rolling to each side, and for the first time, Anika could see the environment laid about before her. Rolling hills of green grass, trees, and a river further in the distance. It wasn’t the first time Anika had seen nature, but seeing it like this allowed her to marvel in it’s true beauty. How could anything evil live in such a place as beautiful as that?

The others were crowding around a gravel mound, a safe distance from the fence, with all their protective equipment lined up, ready to be collected.

Anika placed all their equipment in the circle, and looked up at John, expecting criticism. She got none. John wasn’t even looking at her.

“Where’s the pilot?” Penelope questioned, with a hint of fear in her eyes, clearly not wanting to be left all the way out here for longer than she had to, when the sun set.

“He’ll be here,” John exclaimed, positively.

Anika wasn’t sure how much longer they were sat there for, but when she turned to her left, the sun had made its final descent on the horizon, and the sky was beginning to darken. The others were trying hard to mask their fear, and even Anika shivered as the air began to chill. John coughed, and cleared his throat. “Typical fourth-caste, always late,” he laughed half heartedly, but Anika detected a slight shake in his demeanor.

Suddenly, Anika heard a loud crash from behind a couple of buildings on the far side of the gate; they all jumped.

“Wh..what was that?” Penelope whispered.

“I don’t know,” John admitted shakily.

Anika looked in the direction that the noise had come from. The wind rustled around them, and she knew that if they stayed here any longer, they would catch their deaths. “I’m going to have a look. It might be the pilot, he might have come round a different way,” she announced, trying to convince herself.

The others looked unconvinced, and Adam went to hold her arm back as she ventured towards the source of the noise. “I’ll come with you,” he said.

“No,” Anika pressed. “You stay here, I won’t be a moment.”

Before he could argue, she walked on through a gap in between the buildings, the wind catching up with her as she was pushed through it. The gravel started to gather, and as she looked round, she realised she was no longer able to see the others. Her heart was beating faster as she emerged from the gap. The wind stopped. There was a protective covering here, and the fence widened as she saw a gap which descended into darkness within the hillside. She froze. There was no sign of the pilot, or the aircraft. Instinctively, she began to back up towards the gap, and turned her head so hard at the sound of more movement that she felt dizzy and disorientated. She didn’t call out. She didn’t dare. Summoning all the energy she could, she squinted through the darkness and thought she saw two bright yellow eyes staring back at her, but before she could know for sure, she felt something collide with the back of her head, and she fell on the hard gravel as darkness overcame her.

I would just like to finish with a massive shoutout to my best friend, and artist of this fantastic drawing, Leah, who has kindly offered to have this featured on my blog (I thought it bore a striking resemblance to my main character, Anika, especially when we start to see more of her in the future installations of the story.) If you click below the image, it should take you to Leah's Instagram art page. A massive thanks to her once again.

Our main character, Anika. Click here to Leah's instagram art page