In the dim light James climbed the wooden ladder and cautiously peeked out the trap door. It appeared to be safe as he climbed out and closed the door behind him.
The sun, now low in the sky, cast shades of darkness over the landscape. He listened carefully for any unusual sounds. Satisfied, he lightly tapped twice on the trap door, then slipped back down into the cellar.
Paul was already sitting on the cot, leaning back against the cool rock wall.
James turned up the illuminator and started looking through the boxes of food, trying to decide what to have for dinner.
"Are you hungry?"
"I'm so hungry I think I could eat a cow. Do you have any idea what time it is? Since I got shot, my sense of time seems to be rather distorted."
"It's almost sundown on the third day. Of course, I'm counting the day you were shot as day one. Would you like to know the exact time?" he asked as he set a box of assorted omni-wafers on the cot and handed Paul a glass of omni-drink.
"No," he said, shaking his head, "I don't think it would help straighten out the distortion."
"I don't think you should be too concerned about the time until you recover. It will probably straighten itself out as you progress."
James poured himself a glass of water and sat in the chair beside the cot as Paul said a silent prayer and began to eat.
"How do you feel?"
"I'm tired and sore but I would have been dead long before now, if you hadn't saved me." He paused for a moment as if in thought, then added, "What made you do it, anyway?"
"I don't know for sure. I just kept looking out the window and I guess you reminded me of someone else. Someone I was too late to save."
"Family?"
"Yes. My father."
"You need to talk about it."
James noticed he used the word 'need' instead of 'want' and the inflection of the statement. It sounded more like a suggestion than a question.
"I haven't talked about it since Rachael died. I guess I hadn't given it much thought until I saw you tied to that post."
"You don't have to talk about it if you'd rather not."
"I don't mind talking about it. In fact, it might make me feel better if I told you. I should count myself as lucky to have someone who is willing to listen."
James paused as if trying to decide where to begin his story. He leaned forward in the chair and buried his face in his hands.
Compassionately, Paul put his hand on James' shoulder as if trying to give him the strength he seemed to need or comfort him in the pain of his rememberance.
"Are you going to be all right?"
"Sure," James answered as he straightened in the chair, away from Paul's reassuring hand, "I'll be all right."
James shifted his position slightly.
"I went to Dad's house early that morning. We were going to spend the day together, just the two of us. We had gone into the kitchen to make some coffee, and were discussing what to have for breakfast. I hadn't been there but just a few minutes when two officers burst through the door. Dad didn't offer any resistance. The last thing he said to me was 'Don't do it, Son'. At that time I thought he had anticipated the fight I was going to give them and he didn't want me to fight. Later, I decided that wasn't what he meant at all. He didn't want me to join the System.
Anyway, I wasn't going to let them take me. I took a swing at one of them, the other one hit me and I was out cold. I don't know how long I was out but when I woke up, I was in a small room with two guards. They must have been giving me some kind of drug because it was the middle of the next week and I had that foggy, disoriented feeling. I had lost a lot of weight, about twenty-five or thirty pounds.
I'm not sure where I was at the time, it might have been the old stadium, I'm not sure. I was aware of what was happening but it was more like a bad dream than reality. I was still under the influence of the drug. I could still feel it's effects. I didn't have time to shake it before the guards dragged me through a crowd of blood-thirsty people. I can still hear them shouting and screaming after all this time. Then I saw Dad. He was in the center of the crowd. They had beaten him real bad and tied him to a post. He was so frail...so broken. It was too horrible to describe. As bad as he was hurt, he still refused to join the System. He still refused to renounce his faith. They wouldn't let me talk to him. They wouldn't even let me go near him....It was raining...I used to like the rain...
They told me they would cut him down if I would join them. At first, of course, I refused. They were very confident that I would change my mind. Somehow, I knew they would kill him regardless of whether I joined or not. And they knew I would change my mind. It was horrible...If I had known then what I know now, I could have saved him."
James paused and wiped his hand across his face, then continued.
"For what seemed like hours, I was forced to stand there in the rain and watch him suffer. The things they did to were horrible. How could I just stand there and watch a part of me suffer and die? I had to do something. I prayed. I actually fell down on my knees and prayed. I prayed silently. I prayed aloud. I even screamed... And I'll carry those words with me to my grave...I only made it worse. My prayers only made everything worse for Dad, and for me. I wanted then to kill me. I begged them to kill me instead of him. They laughed in my face. I knew they would kill him anyway, regardless of what I did. It kept raining and raining. He was an old man. What kind of threat is one old man?
I couldn't stand to watch any more, I just couldn't. He deserved better than to die alone in the rain, at the hands of such brutal, blood-thirsty people. Finally, I told them I would join. I would do whatever it was they wanted me to do. I wouldn't cause them one minute of worry, if they would just spare his life...
I denied my faith...I rejected Christ... I even denounced God...
As the words left my lips, I felt a nakedness I had never known before. It was like...like I was empty. I can't tell you what it really felt like. There isn't any way. I can't tell you with words because there aren't any words to describe what I felt." James shifted his position slightly, then continued.
"I had been crying. I didn't know it was possible for a grown man to cry so many tears. As soon as I accepted the System the tears were gone. I couldn't cry anymore. And do you know I haven't cried since...since they cut him down.."
As if by instinct, James subconsciously rubbed the palm of his right hand.
"I was sworn in as a Divisional Officer of Governmental Systems and received my identification. I worshipped the King and hailed the United System.
Dad was dead by the time they cut him down. I cried as I held his lifeless body in my arms. Only then did I understand. The aloneness, the emptiness, the nakedness the reason for it all. After it was too late, the picture was crystal clear."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know. I guess just about everyone has lost someone...in one way or another."
"It wasn't all bad, I guess. Since then I've had everything I've ever wanted. They've denied me nothing. You should have seen the house I got for Rachael. It was fantastic. She didn't have long to enjoy it though, she was terminally ill. Oh, they granted me some time to change her mind about the System, but it wasn't enough. I don't think another lifetime would have been enough. When she wouldn't join, they killed her. I didn't know...I swear I didn't know. I thought it was one of her regular treatments. I was even expecting them to tell her she had entered remission. They just came in one day and gave her something and she never woke up."
James took an omni-wafer from the box and began to eat.
"At least she didn't have to suffer and you should be thankful for that much."
"No, she didn't have to suffer. That's what I keep telling myself, but that's no consolation. She's still not with me."
"I guess they fix it so we all loose."
Paul noticed James' deep brown eyes and full face. It occurred to him that he had never really looked at James before. He was a well built man about fifty years old. His dark complexion was complimented by his dark brown hair, which was slightly gray at the temples, giving him a dignified look. The lines around his eyes and mouth proved there had been many smiles and even laughter at some time in the past. In their short acquaintance, James had smiled only once. Even then, it was very controlled.
The light brown tunic formed a v-shape on his chest, accenting the broadness of his shoulders. The muscles in his arms curved under the soft fabric of his tunic. His hands were strong and masculine and his movements suggested that his life before the System had been somewhat different. It was apparent that he was a man capable of great strength, as well as gentleness. He could prove to be a very good friend or a formidable adversary. Paul was certainly glad to have him as a friend.