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Equilibrium Fan Fiction
by Judas Austin
Immune
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(This story
will be completed in a series of installments)
Kevin didn't see Barrett for several
weeks after that, and he wasn't sure if he was glad or worried about
this. The man was a positive liability, but already Kevin was
starting to think of him as a...well, at least not as an enemy.
Besides, in his absence, the newly-promoted Vice-Council DuPont had
taken over the instruction of the acolytes and the man made Kevin's
teeth itch, not to mention his fists...although he had to hand it to
DuPont, the man was a good instructor, even if his presence meant that
Kevin couldn't have as much fun in class as he did with Barrett.
"Will you pass me that history text, Halls?" Jacobs said.
Kevin chucked the book across the dormitory at him without looking
up. Jacobs was about the closest thing he'd managed to get to a
friend in the Monastery, or at least, as friendly as two people could
be when one was on Prozium and the other a sense offender.
For a few minutes the two of them worked in silence. It was late
that evening, and they were both trying to finish a five page essay on
the emotions and problems provided by the Tetran Revolt, the closest
Father had ever come to assassination.
"Why do they do it?" Jacobs said suddenly.
"'Scuse me?" Kevin said disinterestedly, flipping through another
history text. He was sure that ventilation shafts figured in
this, although he couldn't for the life of him remember how.
Jacobs frowned slightly.
"Well, it was after the Revolt that they banned female Clerics, wasn't
it? But since every single text-even our own history-shows that
females are more intuitive than males, why ban them from the ranks on
the basis of one incident?"
Kevin shrugged. He'd never really thought about equal rights in
the Tetra Grammaton-females took just about every other role except
those in the military and law enforcement-except from being glad he
didn't have to share a dorm with girls; life was complicated enough!
"Maybe they wanted to be sure," he said aloud.
"Yeah, but look." Jacobs read aloud. "'Following the
near-catastrophic occurrence of the Tetran Revolt, when the number of
Cleric sense offenders outnumbered those on the dose and an
assassination attempt on Father almost succeeded, female Clerics were
banned from the ranks henceforth'."
"So?" Kevin said irritably. He was tired and wanted to get this
essay completed as soon as possible.
"The history texts also show us that when females were admitted into
the ranks, it was also in an equal and proportionate ratio to the
males."
"Fifty-fifty, you mean?" Kevin stifled a yawn, wondering as he did so
if he'd ever spoken to someone and been as completely unaware of their
lack of interest as Jacobs seemed to be of his.
"Exactly. If they outnumbered those on the dose, there would've
been males involved as well."
"Yeah, there were," Kevin said, thinking that if he couldn't shut
Jacobs up directly, he might as well get his yearmate's train of
thought to its station as fast as possible. "And if you'll
double-check the texts, you'll probably find that there were more male
Clerics than females involved."
"Exactly," Jacobs said again. It seemed to be his word for the
week. "So why didn't they ban males instead?"
"I..." Kevin paused, momentarily jerked out of his bad mood. That
was an interesting point. He'd never thought of it before.
"I don't know," he said eventually. "Why don't you ask DuPont
tomorrow?"
They continued to work in silence for a few minutes. Then Jacobs
said casually, "So are you going to witness the execution?"
"Whose?" Kevin asked, flipping through the book in search of an elusive
date.
"Turner's."
Kevin paused and actually lifted his gaze from the text to stare at
Jacobs.
"I thought he was already dead."
Jacobs shrugged.
"He held out longer than the technicians expected. Then, he's an
acolyte; they're always harsher on them than civilians."
Thanks, Kevin thought bitterly. That's just what I wanted to
hear.
"And I gather he's been feeding them names a few at a time," Jacobs
went on. "He's managed to draw it out this far, but I gather he
ran out of information a day or so back. They're sending him down
tomorrow."
"I'm glad to hear it," Kevin answered calmly, while his heart seemed to
shrivel inside him. "Best thing to do with offenders."
"I agree. So are you going to witness it?" Jacobs said again, as
if he was inquiring about a basketball game.
"Maybe," Kevin said, feigning disinterest and inwardly swearing that
the only way he'd be down there is if DuPont ordered him himself.
"If I have the time."
"Time for what, acolyte?" a voice inquired softly from the door.
Kevin was so used to Vice-Council DuPont paying unexpected visits to
the dormitory by now that he didn't even blink as he and Jacobs
scrambled to stand at attention by their beds.
"Time to witness Turner's execution, sir," he answered, voice properly
impassive.
"Indeed." There wasn't a time when DuPont opened his mouth that
didn't make the hairs rise on the back of Turner's neck. "I
wonder, acolyte...have you seen Vice-Council Barrett?"
"Of course, sir," Kevin lied calmly, while wondering why the hell
DuPont was asking him that. "He came by to explain a point in an
essay he set some time back."
"Interesting," DuPont said coolly. "You're having trouble keeping
up in class, acolyte?"
"Not in the least, sir. I merely requested additional
clarification on the topic in question in an effort to optimise my
learning." That was another good trick. When in doubt,
always use long words. Kevin hadn't quite figured out why this
worked so well, but it never failed.
"I think you're lying, acolyte," DuPont said at last.
Well, almost never.
"I don't follow, sir."
"You are almost constantly at the top of your class. There was
the one incident last year in the Clinical Interrogation exams-" (Kevin
winced inwardly; last year had been the first year he'd done CI with a
real subject, and he'd spent the next hour or two throwing up what
seemed to be everything he'd ever eaten) "-but I have to admit, you
distinguished yourself this time round."
"Sir." Did satisfaction count as feeling? Probably. Better
not risk it.
"What you did with the chisel was a particularly interesting touch,"
DuPont added.
"Thank you sir."
"I didn't say it was good."
"You didn't say it was bad either, sir." Kevin shifted his
weight. "Excuse me sir, but was that all? Only I have that
essay to finish."
DuPont continued to eye him narrowly for a few minutes, then said, "Do
it," and walked out.
Kevin and Jacobs continued work for a few more minutes before the
latter broke the silence again.
"Did you say Barrett came by?"
"Yeah," Halls answered. "You were on the night shift at the
time."
Jacobs seemed to accept this explanation; he'd been pulling night shift
a lot more recently, ever since he'd distinguished himself in class by
claiming pre-Librians had avoided unwanted pregnancies by wearing
condominiums.
With an inward sigh-having to cover his tracks wasn't so much hard now
as boring-Kevin scrawled a few final notes on the essay, shoved it in
his locker and collapsed onto his mattress, out like a light almost
before he landed.
Kevin, arriving early at the gym the next afternoon in response to a
summons, was considerably startled to see Barrett sitting there as if
nothing had happened.
"Good afternoon, acolyte."
"Afternoon, sir," Kevin answered automatically, still staring openly at
him.
Barrett waited for a few minutes, partly because he wanted to organise
his thoughts, but mostly because it wasn't often he had the upper hand
on Halls, and he wanted to savour the experience.
"I expect you're wondering why I summoned you here," he said
eventually, after Kevin started to look uncomfortable.
Kevin, whose mind had actually been some centuries away on the latest
history essay, blinked.
"Yes sir," he said, more reflexively than honestly.
"I wanted a private chat with you."
"Another one, sir?"
"Yes, acolyte, another one. Do you have a problem with that?"
"People will say we're in love," Kevin drawled, in a passable imitation
of Hannibal Lecter.
"Yes, alright, I saw that EC-10 movie as well and frankly, acolyte,
that sort of thing will work a lot better once your voice breaks."
Kevin raised his eyebrows.
"Did you come here for some other reason than to discuss sense offence
with me? This isn't the safest place to do that, in case you
hadn't noticed."
"Why did you tell DuPont you'd seen me that evening?"
"I didn't."
"That's not what he said."
"I said you came by to explain a point in an essay you set me. I
never said which one. And you did come by to explain that bit
about the difference between lust and love, and why lust is the only
sensation to be rated as an emotion."
Barrett frowned. He was trained to remember encounters to the
last detail, but for the life of him he couldn't think what Halls was
talking about.
"Unit 3.1 Emotions and Sensations, sir," the boy prompted.
"Section 14.1 of the Manifesto."
Twenty years of teaching the same curriculum year in and year out gave
Barrett the timescale, and he stared at the acolyte.
"That was when you were eight!"
"Was it?" Kevin snickered quietly. "How the time does fly,
doesn't it, sir?" He shook his head. "It's not my fault
DuPont asks the wrong questions. He didn't ask if I'd seen you
that day, just if I'd seen you. As I've seen you almost every day
since I wound up in this place of black jesters."
Barrett eyed him sourly.
"You've been reading bloody Yeats again, haven't you, lad?"
Kevin smirked.
"You could say that, sir, yes." He didn't have much chance to do
a lot of reading, and when he did it was usually Stephen King.
Kevin was particularly fond of Misery; it was always nice to know there
was some poor bastard in deeper shit than he was, even if it was
fictional. But he'd happened to confiscate a book of Yeats from a
civilian sense offender and...well...he had to make sure it was genuine
EC-10. After all, it wouldn't do to burn an approved text, would
it?
Barrett raised his eyebrows.
"I've been meaning to say this for some time now, and I hope you won't
take it the wrong way, lad, but I think there's something seriously
wrong with your head."
Kevin raised his eyebrows.
"Is there a right way to take that, sir?"
"You're barely twelve years old and you've murdered one of your
yearmates."
"Funny, that," Kevin remarked offhandedly. "If he hadn't been off
the dose, everyone who is would have raved about it. Since he
was, I'm suddenly a murderer? For doing my job?"
"Don't you feel any emotions beyond a ruthless need for
self-gratification?" Barrett asked coolly, knowing the answer even
before he'd finished saying the word Don't.
Kevin feigned surprise.
"There are other emotions, sir?"
Barrett shook his head.
"Get out of my sight, acolyte, before I do something I'll regret." Like
laughing.
"Whatever you say, sir." Kevin threw him a mocking salute.
"You just don't want to admit that you hate the fact I'm not playing
the game your way."
"I wasn't aware that there were any 'ways'."
"Oh yes you were, sir. There's your way, which involves risking
yourself for someone who'll turn around and betray you at the drop of a
hat, but at least you die content, and there's my way, which involves
staying alive." Kevin paused. "I'll agree that some of the
methods used in that last one might be a little...self-gratifying, as
you put it, but it works for me. Though for what it's worth, I
didn't enjoy turning my yearmate in."
"Then why do it?"
Kevin smirked.
"Well, let's examine the facts, shall we, sir? If I didn't turn
him in, sooner or later he'd have turned me in."
"You don't know that," Barrett pointed out irritably. He was
starting to get the feeling that the acolyte held the upper hand in
this conversation, and he didn't like it one bit. "He might have
wanted to be friends."
Kevin gawked at him for a few minutes, then abruptly burst out
laughing.
"Sorry sir," he said as soon as he could speak, "is this the same
acolyte Turner who saw the name Beethoven for the first time and
thought it was a pre-Librian meal?" He shook his head, still
grinning. "Man, with a friend like him, who needs the Tetra
Grammaton?"
"It was an understandable mistake, Halls."
"Oh, you made it as well, did you, sir?" Kevin said innocently.
"Do you enjoy trying on these smart remarks with me, acolyte?" Barrett
said coldly, after a few seconds had passed. "Because I'm getting
very tired of it."
Kevin held up his hands, smirking.
"Alright, alright, fine. Point taken, sir. No more battles
of wits."
"Thank you." Barrett turned away with an uncomfortable feeling
that that had been far too easy.
"I always felt it was dishonourable to fight an unarmed opponent,
anyway," Kevin murmured, just loud enough for Barrett to hear. He
spun around again.
"Halls!"
"Sorry, sir," Kevin said again, his smirk so wide it threatened to take
in his ears. "Couldn't resist." He paused. "Not that it's
any of my business, sir," he added, "but where the bloody hell were
you?"
"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies," Barrett answered
flatly.
"I see." Kevin paused, then said; "So how are your friends at the
Resistance then, sir?"
Barrett narrowed his eyes.
"Are you trying to get me processed, acolyte?!"
"Merely asking a question, sir. Is that a crime?"
"Depends on the question, acolyte, as you well know." Barrett
glanced up as the other acolytes entered the gym and raised his voice
slightly. "Alright, pair off. That goes for you too,
Halls," he added pointedly. "The report DuPont gave said you've
been participating in most Gun-Kata classes, so you can damn well join
in this one."
It was on the tip of Kevin's tongue to say that it hadn't been his
fault he missed a chunk of Barrett's lessons, but he swallowed the
words with an effort and walked out onto the floor.
It probably wasn't an accident that he ended up partnering
Andersen. The other acolyte had been acting more and more
strangely these past few weeks, and Kevin thought he could make a good
guess as to why. Following Andersen's somewhat dismal performance
in the exams, he was probably determined to make up for it now, and
he'd chosen Kevin as not only the highest ranking, but probably the
easiest of all the other acolytes to beat.
Kevin, whose back was on the mend, snorted inwardly. If Andersen
thought he could take advantage of him like before, he was badly
mistaken.
They paired off, working systematically through the katas. Kevin
let his mind wander slightly; he knew these ones backwards by
now. He half stepped, half slid forward, bringing one hand up in
a standard pose, the other out to the side at a ninety degree
angle. Kata 17.
Agony shot down his lower back as, unobserved, Andersen took his
opportunity to deliver a sly roundhouse kick. The pain flashed
through the younger acolyte's body in about three seconds. In
another two, he had Andersen in a headlock and the two of them were
rolling on the floor, completely oblivious to anything else apart from
the sudden driving urge to inflict as much pain as possible on the
other acolyte.
Then they were apart again because Barrett had dragged them off each
other.
"What do you think you're playing at?" he said icily.
Andersen straightened and brushed his clothes down.
"I apologise, sir. However, I have reason to believe that acolyte
Halls is a sense offender."
"Prove it!" Kevin spat.
"Quiet!" Barrett ordered, giving the acolyte a warning shake.
"You'll have your chance to say all you want to in a minute."
Kevin seriously doubted this, as he believed that saying 'all he wanted
to' to the other acolyte or the Vice-Council would wind up with his
being slapped on a charge for severe insubordination at best, and at
worst, sense offence.
"His behaviour concerns me greatly," Andersen went on, as if nothing
had happened, "and there are certain discrepancies which I believe to
be non-conformist."
"Have you found any unused Prozium?" Barrett said.
"No sir," Andersen admitted. "The search turned up nothing."
"Search?" Kevin said, perplexed, then realised. "You
bastard! You set me up with that medic!"
"I'm beginning to see your point, acolyte," Barrett said to
Andersen. "However, without any unused Prozium or concrete
evidence, there is no justification for such an accusation." And
the acolyte wouldn't find any, Barrett knew. He was damned if he
knew how Halls was doing it, but somehow he'd got hold of...what?
Fake Prozium, perhaps? Barrett wasn't sure, although he noticed
Halls had started to make a point of dosing very obviously in front of
him.
"Then let me search his quarters," Andersen said, perhaps a little too
eagerly for a Prozium addict. Kevin ignored him and suddenly
straightened up, a dangerous light in his eyes.
"Sir?"
Barrett looked at him and realised what he was going to say, wished
there was some way he could prevent it.
"Yes, acolyte?"
Kevin nodded towards Andersen.
"He's the sense offender here, not me. He knew I was suspicious
and he engineered this whole thing to set me up."
There was a slight silence, broken only by the shuffling of footsteps
as the other acolytes drew away from Andersen, as if they thought sense
offence was contagious.
Andersen's eyes, when he lifted them to meet Kevin's, were perfectly
calm and composed, and his voice was steady as he threw Kevin's own
words back at him.
"Prove it."
Kevin glanced at Barrett.
"Request permission to take acolyte Andersen for a Prozium test, sir."
There was a long, long silence before Barrett said heavily, "Very
well. Andersen, go and report to the medical wing."
"I'll take him, sir," Kevin said. Barrett eyed him narrowly.
"I believe he is capable of finding his own way, acolyte."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that, sir," Kevin countered, not missing a
beat. "And it'd be a shame if he did get lost on the way to the
medic's lab and accidentally wound up escaping the Monastery and making
his way into the Nethers, wouldn't it? Because we'd never find
him in there."
"It would be an even greater shame if he were to attempt to shoot his
way out," Barrett answered, in tones designed to let Halls know he
wasn't going to play this game, not now.
"Since the corridors are covered by security cameras and regularly
patrolled by Clerics, I find it unlikely he'd even contemplate such an
action, sir," Kevin countered mockingly.
There was a silence.
"Very well," Barrett said finally. "But whatever the outcome of
this test, I want to see you both back here by four o'clock."
Kevin ripped off a salute that would have made even the most psychotic
drill sergeant beam with pride. Barrett knocked his hand away.
"Stop that. You know full well that Grammaton agents don't
salute. And like I say, if you're not both back by four, I'll put
you on report for malingering."
Kevin raised an eyebrow very slightly.
"Yes sir," was all he said, then he turned to Andersen and gestured
towards the door. "After you."
Andersen hesitated.
"There's no need for such a measure," he said, not budging.
"Then there's no reason for you to refuse, is there, acolyte?" Barrett
said crisply, mentally cursing Halls for putting him into this
situation.
Andersen glanced from one face to the other. For a minute Barrett
was horribly afraid the boy was going to make a run for it-if he did
then the Vice-Council would be obliged to put him down, and he really
didn't want blood that young on his hands-but then the acolyte said
curtly, "Fine," and strode off towards the exit, Kevin following.
They'd been walking for about ten minutes before Andersen spoke.
"Wait."
"Sorry," Kevin said, wishing he could smirk and not quite daring
to. "My orders were to deliver you to the medic immediately."
Andersen slowed down enough to let Kevin draw level with him and caught
hold of his arm.
"You know...Halls..." he began, grimacing slightly as if Kevin's name
left a sour taste in his mouth, "...I don't see why we can't come to
some sort of...arrangement...?" He let the sentence trail off
hopefully.
"Right, Andersen," Kevin drawled, still walking. "What do you
expect me to do? Fall on your neck with relief?"
Andersen stopped and spun him around to face him.
"You are a sense offender. I know you are, just like I am."
"I'm nothing like you, Simon Andersen," Kevin answered frostily.
"Take your hands off me."
Andersen set his jaw slightly. He was more heavily built than
Kevin, who could best be described by a kind person as 'lean', and he
was used to using his rank and muscles to cow the few other offenders
he'd met.
"Or what?" he said flatly.
Kevin smiled. It wasn't something he did very often, even among
other sense offenders, and it was somewhat gratifying to note
Andersen's sudden discomfiture.
"Or you'll be reporting to the medic for a little more than a Prozium
test, understand?"
To his surprise, Andersen released him and stepped away.
"Look...Kevin...buddy..."
"I'm not your buddy," Kevin said in sub-arctic tones.
"Right, sure, whatever you say," Andersen said hurriedly.
"But...look...we're both sense offenders. Neither of us want to
wind up in the Palace of Justice, right?"
Kevin's face assumed a neutral expression.
"I'm listening."
"Okay." Andersen glanced around to see if they were being
observed. Nope. Everyone seemed to be in class and the
Cleric patrol was elsewhere. "What about this? You go back
to the Vice-Council, tell him you made a mistake. Tell him you
saw me dose and I'll tell him I saw you dose. Maybe that we need
to get our Intervals adjusted or something."
Kevin shrugged. He'd tried that when he was younger and got his
dosage increased twice. Both times it had been no different, and
he didn't dare risk upping the dose a third time. He wasn't sure
if a severe overdose would have any more effect on him than water, but
he had no desire to slip into a drug-induced coma just yet; life was
just starting to get really interesting.
"Yeah...that'd work...tell him we need our Intervals adjusted and I'll
dispose of it my way and you dispose of it yours...and that's all that
has to be said." Andersen wet his lips nervously, then looked at
the younger acolyte. "What do you say?"
Kevin's eyes gleamed behind the dark glasses.
"I say, what's in it for me?"
"What?" Andersen appeared thrown.
"You heard." Kevin stretched. "See, if I let you live, all
I'm doing is possibly setting myself up for a fall in the future.
You're the only one who knows my secret. Right now the best
course of action would be for me to let you die, so why the fuck should
I run the risk for a worthless piece of Nethers refuse like you?
And before you say what's in your mind right now, which will probably
involve the word arrest in some form, let me just point out that I've
come out of Prozium tests before, and I've tested clean. I've got
nothing to gain by letting you live and a hell of a lot by letting you
die. So what exactly can you offer me to keep your secret?"
Andersen glanced around, as if seeking some way out of the trap he'd
caught himself in.
"Tell me what you want," he said eventually.
Kevin smirked.
"Oh, that sounds nice. That's music to my ears, Andersen; you
don't know how much I've wanted to hear you say that."
"What-do-you-want?" Andersen repeated through clenched teeth.
Like most bullies, he strongly resented having to take what he saw as
his right to dish out.
Kevin tipped his head on one side.
"Okay. First, no more trying to compete with me. I've
enough crap to deal with without you making it harder for me. I
don't care if you want to beat all the others in our year, but stop
trying to take my place at the top."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh yes you do," Kevin shot back. "Second, no mentioning my name
to anyone else in any way, shape or form. That includes sense
offenders. Third, no trying to hold this conversation over my
head at any time."
"You're out of your fucking tree," Andersen hissed, all pretence at
amiability gone.
"Fourth-you might want to write these down-no more attempting to frame
me like you did with the Talrium. Fifth, no making any demands on
me for your silence."
"Are you finished?" Andersen said through clenched teeth, after Kevin
had been silent for a few minutes.
"For now, yeah," the other acolyte said airily. "I was going to
ask you for first pick of all the EC-10 you confiscate and your doing
my CI assignments up until graduation, but I think I'll save those for
when you need me to get you out of trouble."
"If you think I'm going to agree to any of this, you're insane,"
Andersen said tightly, wondering for the first time if Halls had taken
him the long way around to force him into making this offer.
"If you think I'm giving you any kind of choice in the matter, you're
insane," Kevin countered mockingly, not missing a beat.
There was a harsh, tense silence.
"Fine," Andersen said bitingly. "In other words, leave you alone
and keep my mouth shut and you'll do the same for me."
Kevin raised an eyebrow.
"That's pretty much it."
There was another silence.
"Fine," Andersen said again abruptly, then whirled and stalked
off. Kevin shook his head, grinning. That guy had a lot to
learn about being a sense offender, and if he was unlucky enough to
bump into a Cleric while he was scowling like that, he was probably
going to learn really quickly.
The grin broadened. Well. Andersen was a jerk anyway.
If the Clerics wanted him, they could have him; it'd be no rounds out
of his gun.
Speaking of guns, he'd better be getting back to class, if only to make
sure that Andersen held up his end of the deal.
Feeling very pleased with himself (although not too strongly) Kevin
started back towards the gymnasium. He hadn't gone further than
about halfway when he caught sight of the monitors and froze, his good
mood evaporating like steam as Turner's face looked back at him.
Kevin hesitated, then he turned to watch. He wasn't sure
why...except in some strange way he felt he owed it to Turner. He
was responsible for the acolyte's death; the least he could do was see
it right through to the end.
He stared at the monitors, expressionless but with an unaccountable
weight sitting in his stomach as Turner was hauled screaming and
thrashing down the tunnel that led to the furnace.
Turner...oh man, I'm sorry it had to be like this. I'm so sorry
but between your life or mine I think I place a slightly higher value
on mine, and in my position, you'd have done the same. I'm still
sorry, though...for what it's worth.
He shook his head. Sorry is a word that only ever means forgive
my yesterdays. Who had said that? Oh right; that EC-10
music band, and one of the few bands Kevin had surprised himself by
actually liking.
As he left, he shot one final glance over his shoulder at the monitors.
If it's any consolation, George, I think I'll probably be joining you
before too long.
"Feel pleased with yourself, lad?" someone inquired softly from behind
him.
"Safer, certainly, sir," Kevin answered unguardedly, keeping his voice
equally low. "There's only room for one sense offender in this
year group."
A hand gripped his shoulder and spun him around, the roughness of the
gesture sparking off a monstrous jolt of pain in his back. Kevin
opened his mouth to lay into his assailant, then caught sight of the
person he'd been addressing and had second, third and fourth thoughts
about doing so.
"Really?" Cleric Preston said calmly, while his now silent partner
regarded Kevin with Prozium-regulated suspicion. "I wonder,
acolyte, if you would be kind enough to elaborate on that statement."
Chapter 4 
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