The Trial

Chapter 18 - Edited

There's been no mist to free me. No sign of my captors. You're here. I know you're here. You hide away in your shadows; while I fight this maddening bondage unto myself.

There must be some point to the torment. Why do it at all? Is it to break me? You haven't broken me.

I've managed to settle into a routine in order to keep my mind occupied with other thoughts, since the dust covered boxes won't stop calling out to me. The messages continue to be sent to the Keeper and I'm finding more references to increases in anti-revolutionary activities throughout the region. At the constant prodding of state driver twelve, I've not altered a single line. It weighs heavily on my conscience, but I trust him like no other.

There's something big coming and wish I had access to more than just this region. I'm trying to piece together a puzzle where nothing seems to fit together and it's a little maddening. I've got a gnawing suspicion that some of the answers lay hidden in the computer, but can't go about blindly searching for something without setting off alarms.

I suspect my driver knows more than he's willing to share with me, but can't bring myself to challenge him. He's become too much a part of my daily routine and don't have any interest in altering our relationship. My driver needs my position and I need his conversation, since there are no others I've met quite like him.

An odd message appears on the screen and it's a little too obvious a trap. The words promise information about the Keeper, and all I need to do is meet someone at some location in a city I've never heard of. It has to be from one of the three, but can't narrow it down to the actual source. They all have reasons to tempt me.

I hide my smile, and forward it along to the Keeper. Which of the three did I just disappoint? There's something about the way the message was worded that leads me to believe the point of origin was the Keeper, since his health continues to decline. He wants to be certain I'm the right person to take his place and I won't do anything to make any of them think otherwise.

As I wait for a response, a new message comes through from one of the spies making mention of a purge to deal with the mass starvation taking place outside the state. I've been tempted to tell them the solution is to stop hoarding the food for those within the state, but know anything like that will make me disappear.

I forward it along as a plate's placed at my desk, and the simple meal is consumed with no thought of eating anything. This has become as much a part of my routine as everything else and it's important for me to continue doing what I must. My driver waits patiently for me to finish as I concentrate on the screen in anticipation of a response from the Keeper, but he's slower than usual to respond.

I absentmindedly put food into my mouth and find the same bland flavors I've eaten since I arrived. He's right about not being a cook, but it's better than some of the things that have entered my mouth. A shudder is forced back as thoughts of the past try to press into the forefront of my mind and barely manage to accomplish something I once considered impossible.