EVERYONE feared and respected Warden Croesus. They feared him for his cunning and cruelty. They respected him for knowing how to read. An ugly scar slashed downwards, cutting diagonally across the face of the leader of the Commune from his forehead to his chin. It was said that this was a mark from the Machine God which Croesus earned when he was still a young and fiery warrior, back in the times when the Commune made war against the barbarians beyond the barrier.
Back in those good old bountiful days.
Now a respected patriarch, Croesus stood on a platform, holding on to the railing and looking down upon the people of the Commune. Rick stood there too, together with the other youths who had completed the Spring Run. The trials went on for exactly one month. Thirty days of trials, which included the Stand Above the Chasm, the Walk Upon the Walls, the Pit Fight and the Hunt for Carrion Bats as well as the Spring Run. All of this was called the Spring Dance, a thirty-day dance of life and death. Those who survived reached the next level. Those who died became a sacrifice to the Machine God.
The Spring Dance had finished the day before. The sacrifice was great this year. Nearly a third of the young people that reached the age of twenty had died, disappeared into the chasm or went missing in the labyrinths of the Expanse.
Croesus did not hide his satisfaction.
“People of the Commune!” he called to the crowd, “The Machine God is pleased with us!”
Whispers. The upturned faces looked like wax masks, with pieces of glass replacing the eyes in their sockets.
“The God has heard our prayers and accepted our offerings! At last, he has been merciful to us, the pious people of the Omicron Commune! Winter is over. The hoarfrost on the condensers has thinned by a finger’s breadth! This means that the cold is retreating!”
The crowd voiced its excitement.
“The Great Circle of Life turns! All hail!”
Croesus raised his fist in a victory salute. The crowd happily replied. But Rick saw that this was the joy of starving men—even though their mouths were smiling, their faces bore the harsh mark of hunger and loss. The Commune suffered from the frosts for many a year, while the food supplies dwindled and the rations kept being cut. Even though there was a farm and there were regular expeditions beyond the barrier, there was never enough food to feed the people.
“And now, let us greet those that passed the trials,” Croesus pointed at the group of young people that stood apart from the main body of the crowd, “These young men and women have successfully reached a new level in their lives!”
The gathering started to applaud and shout their approval.
“This new generation has proven that it is worthy of taking its place in the society of the Omicron Commune. Each one of them will have their own task that will benefit the Commune. They will work at the factory, at the farm and in the corridors of the sector as your equals. They are now our brothers and sisters.”
The crowd voiced their approval again.
“As always, I would like to pay special attention to those who were courageous enough to brave the Spring Run and who ran through the Great Circle of Life. Here come the brave!”
Croesus stepped back, gesturing for Rick and the others to come closer to the railing and hear the applause, which was genuine, happy and boisterous as there was always someone’s father or mother, brother or sister, grandfather or uncle in the crowd, all of whom had prayed to the Machine God for their relatives to return alive. Of course, not all the prayers were heard, but this was God’s will and no mortal could oppose it. Even though he could not see her, Rick knew that his little sister Aurora was standing somewhere here too.
“These young men and women have shown themselves to be true warriors,” continued Croesus, “which means that they are worthy of carrying out the most honorable and responsible of task—defending the peace of the Commune and protecting it from outside foes and saboteurs. I am honored to present the new warriors of the Patrol to you! Gus, the winner of the run, is appointed senior on this level!”
The happiness of those present knew no bounds. Rick trembled with joy. He had worked towards this moment for twenty years and it had finally come. The faces of the people seemed to meld together and everything around him seemed to descend into a fog. Rick felt so dizzy that he had to grab the railing. He did it! He would be re-homed on a higher floor, into a larger, warmer and brighter room and with a bigger ration, which meant that…
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Someone roughly shoved him in the ribs. Rick turned around. It was Yeshua.
“Let the Warden pass!” he growled.
Croesus stepped forward once again. The crowd went quiet. After waiting for the noise to subside, the Warden began to speak, this time with a note of steel in his voice.
“Our great Commune has now existed for a thousand years, since the creation of the Expanse by the Machine God. We are the chosen people, the truly righteous. But the great God always sends us trials to test our resilience and the belief of the people of Omicron in the order of things. Our ancestors were attacked by hordes of monsters from the Expanse outside, people suffered hardship and hunger and died from terrible diseases, but they stood firm in the face of these terrible trials, proving their greatness! If it wasn’t for their strength, we would not be here today! Hardship makes a man stronger, and the harder it is the stronger we become.”
Croesus paused. The crowd listened on in absolute silence.
“Our trials are not yet over. This is a good sign. The God wants proof of our loyalty. He wants to be sure that our strength has not left us. We withstood the piercing cold with honor. A new harvest will be ready soon and we won’t have to conserve food. But our troubles are not over! The Omicron Commune faces a new danger!”
Croesus passed his gaze over the crowd and Rick was shocked to see an animalistic pleasure which bordered on madness in his eyes.
“The day before yesterday, the northern Patrol apprehended three infiltrators from the outer Expanse! These foul barbarians wanted to find out everything about us so they could attack the Commune. Their army is out there, outside, and it is ready to break in here to rob, burn and kill!”
The crowd gasped.
“They shall kill the men, they will take the women as slaves and do such things to the children and the elders that I cannot bear to utter them! But we will be ready. We have interrogated these vermin and discovered the plans of the enemy. They will not catch us unawares! This will never happen! The Omicron Commune will withstand any outside threat. We want peace, but we are prepared for war. We released one of the spies so that he would warn his leaders that they must not enter our territory. The second one killed himself before we could save him. Now, I present the third one for your judgment, People of the Commune. Here he is!”
Croesus made a sign and a convoy accompanying a bound captive marched into the middle of the square. The captive was a man with a pronounced limp who was supported under his elbows. His head hung down powerlessly to his chest. The prisoner was taken into the circle that spread among the crowd in complete silence. The guards stepped back. Almost immediately, he fell to his knees.
The crowd greedily looked over the outsider. Rick also had a look and was surprised that the man was dressed in a rather filthy silvery suit, but Rick was still sure that he had seen a suit of that kind somewhere!
“Here he is!” exclaimed Croesus, “Your enemy!”
The crowd started get noisy. They were pointing their fingers at the prisoner. The people looked at him with hatred, as if he was dangerous predator.
“Hey, you!” shouted Croesus. “Why did you come here? Answer me!”
One of the guards poked the man with an electric baton, making him moan. Croesus repeated his question, but the prisoner could only mumble incoherently. His face was a battered ruin and his eyes darted like the eyes of a caged animal. He tried to make a dash for it, but immediately stumbled and fell onto his back. The crowd recoiled. The women screamed.
“They can’t even speak! They growl like animals!”
One man stepped out of the crowd and spat in the face of the prisoner. Another bounded up to kick him in the gut.
“Enough!” Croesus exclaimed. “Let’s not act like these animals. People of the Commune, brothers and sisters, hear me! I am giving this barbarian for you to judge, and I ask you, what should I do with him? I will do what you say. But I won’t hide the fact that this beast seriously wounded one of our patrolmen. So, then, let me hear your verdict!”
The crowd stayed quiet. People were fidgeting, the human sea was getting rough, the waves were rising and hungry eyes looked at the body huddled in the middle of the square with absolute hatred. And then, someone shouted,
“Death to the barbarians!”
Another voice joined in from the other end of the square. Like an echo, the shout started to reflect off the walls and multiply to engulf all of those present. The crowd soon began chanting,
“Death to the barbarians! Death! Death!”
Croesus silenced everyone with a movement of his hand.
“Have I understood the sentence correctly?”
“Yes!” a thousand voices replied.
“In the name of the Omicron Commune! As Chief Judge and instrument of the will of the people, I sentence you to death, barbarian.”
The prisoner barely lifted his head into the light, croaking weakly.
“We shall be merciful, and rid you of your pathetic life without undue suffering.”
The crowd made approving noises.
“Let the sentence be carried out!”
Two guards approached the condemned man. One forcefully wrenched him to his feet, while the other took out his baton and switched the weapon to maximum power. The prisoner shuddered, spat out a bloody gob of phlegm and shouted, before the deadly lightning strike could turn his brain to mush,
“No! You must turn off the gen…”
An instant later, he was dead. Croesus addressed those present:
“Brothers and sisters! Considering the situation we are in, I ask for your permission to continue to do justice in the name of the Commune as I see fit, lawfully and fairly.”
The people voiced their approval. The crowd began to slowly dissipate. Impressed and dazed, Rick stepped to the side without looking and bumped into someone. He looked up and saw that it was Croesus himself. Their eyes met.
“Congratulations!”
The leader of the Commune clasped Rick’s hand and then departed, flanked by his guards.
Rick turned towards the square where the execution happened. They were already tearing the clothing off the body of the barbarian. In half an hour it will be missing, dragged off by the denizens of the lower levels. The ones whose rations were particularly poor.