RESONANCE

 First Incarnation

Time is relevant to sound. An infinite voice sings life into this universe, and I’m but one note resonating within this expanse of boundless potential. While that’s an easy abstraction to grasp, my own potential remains elusive. After eight parallel lifetimes I’ve been adrift somewhere between struggle and mastery, both of which I now see as an illusion. I decided to chronicle my seemingly endless journey in an attempt to identify what I am. 

I first realized there was something unusual about me in my ninth year, shortly after winning the lottery to go on a camping expedition. Wade and I took some climbing classes to prepare for our hike that would take us halfway up Emerald Mountain. Because of our age, we were restricted to the beginner wall that soon offered us no challenge. When Headmaster refused to move us to the next level, we waited until the athletic center closed for the night and snuck inside to climb the advanced wall. The ropes and harnesses were locked away, and we ascended without them. I found it difficult to handle the grips that were positioned for longer limbs and fell during my descent. After Wade yelled out my name, the outside world disappeared.

My awareness returned in the hospital, but my body remained unresponsive. I screamed and cried out in silence as I heard a doctor tell an Overmaiden I was in a coma and wouldn’t last beyond the week. Seven days later I was still alive, but my condition remained unchanged. To alleviate my increasing restlessness, I imagined myself exploring the deathlands. They fascinated me since I learned about them at school, but the poison left over from the Great Cataclysm meant I could never visit them. The Earth I created had no limitations. There were no fumes to contaminate my lungs and no scourge to keep me from venturing too far beyond the dome. My arms morphed into metallic wings, and I flew over crumbling cityscapes that swayed like ghosts within the murky gray atmosphere. I searched for other lifeforms, but all I could see in every direction was a ceaseless expanse of decay and ruin. 

Melancholia accompanied me on my lonely flight as I recalled Master Franklin’s last lecture when I expressed curiosity over the deathlands. He patiently reminded me the mind of man has a flaw that makes us destroy ourselves. Without the curative implant to protect us from this flaw, we’d still be fighting against each other like the Outsiders. Envisioning the Ancient’s graveyard gave me some comfort. If I were to die now, I’d die knowing the truth. Nothing existed outside Unity. Only in Unity could we resurrect a lasting peace. I was thankful to have the curative implant to spare me from the scourge. I was also thankful to the Overseer for selecting me to be born in Unity. 

My sadness vanished when I flew over a massive seven-circuit labyrinth. I took a deep breath and blew away the haze to get a clearer view. The structure glistened like an opal under the sun. Seeing the elaborate output of my imagination inspired me to create my own reality to live in. I gave myself the powers of a god and returned the Earth to the  pristine state it was in before the arrival of humans. Trees grew, flowers bloomed, and rivers flowed freely again, begetting life to the deathlands.   

After the Earth healed from its injuries, my body transmuted into a spaceship. I glided through celestial seas, exploring distant galaxies and planets. The reality I created was more vibrant and exciting than the one I left behind, and I eventually forgot I was in a coma. Lifetimes of experiences went by, and I got older but never aged. I could’ve remained here forever, but I was still tethered to a physical body that was alive and waiting for my return.  

 The last world I visited had a crimson sky with black vegetation that sparkled under a red sun. When I landed to survey the land, a girl with the physiognomy of a cat approached me and said, “You don’t belong here.” She waved her hand in a circular motion, and everything melted into blackness. 

First came recognition, then dread as I remembered I lay on a hospital bed, held captive by a body that imprisoned me. I heard female voices from the outside world talking about their lunch plans. I want to die! Please, let me die! If my thoughts were audible, they would’ve been loud enough to shatter the dome. I tried to return to the paradise I created, but the darkness pursued. I begged, prayed, and pleaded until the tiniest speck of light materialized in front of me. It glimmered for several seconds before exploding and bathing me in a warm stream of light. As I was ready to surrender my life to the light, a low pitch began to drone, and the blackness returned. “No, I don’t want to stay! Please take me with you!”  

I turned to see what was making the droning sound. It was an incubation tank with a baby floating in liquid white light that reflected the colors of the rainbow. I pressed the palms of my hands against the glass and felt a warm vibration. My whole body resonated with the tank like a tuning fork. More notes rang out, delivering the most brilliant chord I ever heard and still haven’t been able to identify to this day. 

 A female voice called from behind me, “Six begin, Six alone, Six unite.”

I turned to face a woman with light brown skin and large dark eyes. Her black hair cascaded down past her elbows, unbound by the regulation braids of Unitian women. “You cannot keep ignoring me,” she said. “You must remember.”

Such a beautiful creature didn’t exist in Unity, and I couldn’t help but stare at her with my mouth wide open. When I finally found the courage to respond, a baby’s cries awakened me. In the hall, one of the holomonitors at the Overmaiden’s station displayed a crying baby being removed from its incubation tank. I struggled to sit up, and when I attempted to stand, I collapsed. An Overmaiden hurried into the room and helped me back to my bed. I slept until a familiar voice jolted me from out of my slumber. I opened my eyes and faced the doctor who told the Overmaiden I wouldn’t last past the week. When I asked him about his comment, something in his expression kept me from revealing more because I shouldn’t have heard anything; my brain barely showed any sign of neural activity. Not wanting anything to get in the way of my camping expedition, I lied and told the doctor I didn’t remember anything else. He released me three days later, and I returned to my ordinary life in my ordinary world. Because I almost died, Headmaster waived my reprimand for breaking curfew and sneaking into the athletic center, but I was no longer permitted to contact Wade.

*  *  *

     When I arrived at the access, the children were all neatly lined up in their camouflage jumpsuits.

 Wade waved me to the front of the line. “Why didn’t you call me?  No one would tell me what happened to you.”

“I’m not allowed to talk to you anymore.”

“Why?”

“Headmaster thinks I’m a bad influence on you.”

“Going to the center was my idea. I told him that.”

“He doesn’t care about the truth. Only rank matters to him and his army of purple zombies.”

“Maybe Master Franklin forgot to tell Headmaster. I’ll go ask—”

“After we get back. I don’t want to give him a reason to leave me behind.”

Wade nodded. “I hate all these rules.”

“Me too.”  I glanced at Master Franklin, who was busy talking with the gate guard. “I better get in formation before—”

  Master Franklin spotted me and crossed his arms.

“That old purple zombie must have his eyes sewed on to the back of his head,” I said with clenched teeth.

“Let me handle this,” Wade said as Master Franklin approached us.

We bowed and gave him our best rehearsed smiles.

“Welcome back, Damon,” he said. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

“Thank you, Master Franklin,” I said.

The guard opened the access door, and the kids rhapsodized about all the activities Master Franklin had planned for them.

“I need you to step away from the line,” he said to me.

“It’s not his fault. I called him over,” Wade said.

“I know, Apprentice Wade. You’re not as clever as you think.” Master Franklin looked at me. “I’m sorry, Damon, you won’t be joining us on this trip out.”

“Why?  I’m all better.”

“I know…but I wasn’t told about your discharge. I gave your pass to Apprentice Simon.”

“But I’m here now.”

“So is Apprentice Simon, and he outranks you.”

“Can I go on the next expedition?”

“You’re free to sign up for the lottery again.”

“What’s the point in signing up again if winning doesn’t mean I get to go?”

“Return to the dorm…before you say something that will lead you to another reprimand.”

“I don’t care about rank!” My implant released an electrifying jolt of pain to my head, but my rage was stronger. “I won the lottery! I was supposed to go!”

The color emptied from Master Franklin’s face, and his eyes remained fixed and open.

“Master Franklin?”

He didn’t respond, and I feared my outburst gave him a heart attack that killed him right where he stood.

“Master Franklin!”

He clutched his forehead and then looked at me as though relieved. “You’re okay.”

“No, he’s not.” Wade said.

“How many times must I tell you not to speak out without permission?” Master Franklin said.

“Damon told me he hasn’t been feeling well all this week.”

Master Franklin faced me. “Is that true?”

“Yes, Master Franklin,” I replied.

“Why didn’t you go to the hospital?”

While I was sweating over my response, Wade delivered it for me.

“He told me he had a lot of homework to catch up on and that he wanted to show you how he’s now taking his schoolwork seriously.” If there was a class for the art of manipulation, Wade would’ve easily scored above all Unitian children.

“That’s very honorable,” Master Franklin said to me. “But you also need to focus on your recovery. Without good health, you cannot move ahead.”

Wade smirked at me as Master Franklin lifted his arm and stared into the optic of his holologue. “I’m leaving a message with Headmaster to confine you to the dorm grounds and relieve you of your cleanup duties for the remainder of the week.”

Wade returned to his place in line and gave me the thumbs up. Having a friend in the master’s apprentice rank was beneficial, but I had to return to my dorm, stay there for the rest of the week, and do my homework. Summer was ruined. That seemed worse than a reprimand.

Anticipating my boredom, I headed to an essential shop to buy some game privileges for my holologue. When I arrived, I stopped to peer into the display window, and my eyes immediately focused on a violin. I was pulled into a vision in which I was performing in a theater filled with purple sleeves. I made a mistake during a run of sixteenth notes and ran off stage crying. The vision was so real, I was crying when I came out of it. I entered the store and spent all my remaining credits on the violin because I didn’t like failing, even in a vision.

*  *  *

The violin became my constant companion and kept me from missing Wade. When I first held it in my hand I instinctively knew how to hold the bow and position my chin on the rest. My bowing technique came with little effort, and I mastered all the major and minor scales within twelve weeks. I was also able to tune the strings without the aid of a tuner. Music wasn’t my only area of improvement. Math and science, which I used to find difficult, now flowed as smoothly as my bow against the strings. Complex formulas were answered instantly in my visions that appeared as clear as projections in a holologue. When I began my next level in school, I tested ahead of everyone in my class. My grades even surpassed those in the highest level of the master’s apprentice school.

Master Franklin believed I was cheating, and his inference was justified. From the moment we’re placed in the tanks we’re programmed to serve a specific purpose, and I exceeded mine. Headmaster feared a mistake was made before I was upgraded to the incubation tank. I was admitted to the hospital where I was studied by neurologists, genetic programmers, and psychological engineers. When all their tests failed to explain my fortuitous condition, I was considered an anomaly and released.

I thought my academic evolution would’ve led to an automatic transfer to the master’s apprentice school. When no offer was made, I went to Headmaster’s office and asked why.

“I want a bigger challenge, so I can show the Overseer how much more I can do.”

“You’re not challenged now?” Headmaster asked while twirling his thumbs on his desk. The rest of his body was stiff, and I almost laughed when I envisioned him as a music stand. “Yes…but I can handle more.”

“If that’s true, you’re not putting in your best effort. The Overseer chose your genetic profile to serve a specific purpose. Are you placing yourself above the Prime Wisdom?”

I addressed my response to his gyrating thumbs. “No, Headmaster.”

He removed his hands from the desk and peered at me. “Do you understand why I must deny your request for transfer?”

I was about to tell Headmaster I lied and that I wasn’t challenged, but his icy expression froze my tongue solid. “Yes, Headmaster.”

“In the future, I’d appreciate if you take some time to think before launching a formal request. Complaining about your position shows a lack of gratitude. You must respect the Overseer and Prime Wisdom if you wish to earn the respect of your mentors.”

I left believing I’d never move beyond a green sleeve. To be given these talents and then be denied the freedom to use them seemed more like a punishment than gift. When I returned to my dorm, I took the lift to the roof and hopped onto the ledge. Between the dome above and ground below, I felt crushed and started to hyperventilate. There was only one way to escape my prison. I closed my eyes and returned to the model world I created while I was in a coma. I spread out my metallic wings and as I was about to fly away, I heard a female voice call out, “Six begin, Six alone, Six unite.”

I turned and faced the woman from my vision. Startled by both the vision and what I was about to do, I ran back to my room. After the shock wore off, I cried over my lacking the courage to fly.