Root (Energy Anthology)

ROOT

by Lloyd Matthew Thompson

Copyright © 2013 Starfield Press

www.StarfieldPress.com

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are purely of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover art:
The Lament for Icarus
by Herbert James Draper, 1898

Cover design by Lloyd Matthew Thompson
www.OpenedeyeStudios.com

— • —

LLOYD MATTHEW THOMPSON

• ONE •

He didn’t remember exactly where he was before he had a body, but he definitely remembered where he was when he became aware he was now
inside
a body.

The harder he tried to remember
before
, though, the further it seemed to slip away. He had to have known at one time— he remembers there
was
a “one time,” doesn’t he? Why was it now cruelly held captive at the edge of his awareness, taunting and teasing his muffled soul?

His awareness. That’s another thing he now found frustrating, though he cannot quite explain why, if asked.

Before, there were no limitations on his awareness. Had there been any restrictions then? It seems there used to be a time when he was not so
confined
in his senses. Things were different then— weren’t they? It’s so difficult to tell now.

One thing he did know: he did not belong here. He was not from this place, he was not made for this place, he did not belong in this place. He was sure of it.

But to this place he had come.

His first awareness came from above. He was in a tree, clinging for dear life to the highest, thinnest branch that would support his weight without snapping and sending him tumbling into the hands of the angry throng below.

Dear life? He supposed life was dear, even if it was not his own life. But this
was
his life, wasn’t it? Had it always been? No, there had been
something
else, before. Yet he reacted as if this
was
his own life, in this moment.

Looking down on the crowd screaming for him sent waves of tense electricity through his body. His every muscle seemed to tighten around the slender branch more than should have been possible for this body. Had this always been his body? He thinks it has been. And these Others with their twisted faces and boiling eyes wanted him to come down, wanted him to do something, wanted to do something
to
him!

A new shock went through his system, and shivers began tormenting his body uncontrollably. What
was
this sensation? He looked to the sky as a wetness filled his eyes. The brightness on the large cloud drifting by blurred into the sparkling of jewels overhead. A darkened speck moving across the glare grew larger, came closer, took shape. It was an animal, flying.
Bird,
his mind named it as it appeared to be coming to rest in his tree, then changed its mind and veered away at the last second. The wetness rolled down his cheek as his body continued to shake.
Tears. Crying.
Crying because the bird flew away, or because he was stuck in a tree? Stuck in a tree, or being chased by a mob?

Tremors that were not from his body entered his awareness. A cry escaped him, the sound of his own voice startling as he looked down to find his tree was now being hit by two separate men in the crowd. Swinging heavy sticks with sharp metal attached, they took turns chopping into what little sense of safety he had.

Panic gripped his body at a new level. What were they going to do to him?
Why
were they doing this? What was going to happen? What would become of his body? How was he going to get away? He needed this body— his body! What would he do if he lost it? What would become of
him?

The cracking of wood accompanied a disorientation in his awareness. The limb began moving, though his own limbs did not. His tree tumbled over, its roots left behind.

And Lam fell to earth.

• TWO •

Pressing his hand to the tree for support, Lam doubled over and gasped for air. His heart was unaware his legs had stopped running, and continued to run in circles within its cage of ribs. The blood pounded in his ears so loudly he was sure his pursuers would be able to hear it, and find him again.

The crowd had forgotten their anger long enough to split frantically and avoid being crushed by his falling tree. Lam had landed hard, flat on his back. It had knocked the wind from his lungs, but he’d recovered quickly and scrambled into a run as the gap between him and the Others swiftly closed. He hadn’t even had to think about it. It was as if his body had a mind of its own— it just got up and ran.

He had lost the Others twice in his flight, and been discovered twice. Only after ducking into a feeble structure, out its back entrance, scratching through the shadows of a thicket, and splashing through a stream did he slow down enough to realize he had lost them for good. For now.

He glanced back, making sure once more the Others were not in sight. His panting was beginning to subside, his mind beginning to clear. He glanced up into this new tree. It had droopy leaves instead of the tall, uplifted branches the one he had fallen from had had. Should he climb its branches and return to where he felt safe? Was that where he belonged? The vivid memory of his recent fall returned and quickly pursued the associations of safety and heights, replacing it with the opposite.

His heart sent another surge of electricity through his system, and he backed away as if this tree, too, would fall on him at any second.

Tripping on a stone, he fell backwards into a cluster of fuzzy vine-like plants. Grateful it was not the brambles that had torn and bitten his skin as he had clawed his way through in desperation to reach this place, he sighed and felt his body relax, if only slightly. There were no Others to be seen here. No sounds but those of the trees and plants stirring in the breeze. He was alone, the only one in this place, abandoned in an unknown land, rejected, cut off from his home. He had nowhere he belonged.

Home? Was
that
the “before?” If so, where
was
this home? Where was he supposed to go? What was he supposed to be doing? He had been doing something, hadn’t he? He felt sure of it. But what?

His eyes drifted to the sky once again, and found even the clouds had abandoned him. Lam thought of the bird that had almost joined him. Why had it changed its mind? Had it rejected him, or rejected the mob below him? Where had it flown instead? Where were
any
of the animals here? It was extremely quiet. He missed the constant chatter in his head. It felt so empty without it, so lonely. Had it been noisier at
home
, or was it merely the absence of the angry crowd screaming for his life that now rang in his ears? There was no way for him to know. It was all so confusing, all so hopeless.

Lam sighed and allowed his body to release more of its tension. It really did feel wonderful to loosen his muscles. They were so heavy. His entire body felt so bulky, so weak. He wasn’t used to this. Lying on the soft bed of vines and gazing into the expanse of sky spread above him brought feelings of peace and relaxation within him. Something about the sky stirred
something
in his body. It was a wash of electricity through his system, like that of the fear when he was running, but somehow different.

Ah,
fear
. That’s what that had been. That sounded right. Then what was this new feeling?

He didn’t know why the sky was blue here, but its shade began darkening, then returned to its full brightness, only to be dimmed to an even darker hue. The brightness returned as he inhaled a deep breath of air into his lungs and opened his drooping eyes fully once more.

He exhaled the air as he drifted into blackness and dreams of things he could no longer remember.

• THREE •

A sharp stick jabbed his ribs. He screamed and tried to leap up. He needed to run again— the Others had found him! He had to protect his body!

But his body would not respond. It would not rise
or
run.

The huge round face of an old woman filled his vision. Her large round eyes mirrored the shape of her face. Their hazel color appeared to be so light they looked yellow, and flickered as her toothless mouth spread into a grin. A rank odor flooded his nostrils as she chuckled and inspected his face. Lam struggled again as the old woman leaned in even closer, her long beak of a nose nearly touching his. The only way she would have been able to achieve this angle of examination was if she were sitting on him. He realized she was, and fear coursed through his veins once again. What was she going to do to him? He thrashed his body as hard as he could, trying to buck her off.

The woman’s wrinkled fingers touched the center of his forehead, instantly calming him. Her hand grabbed both sides of his jaw firmly, and turned his head to one side. Tilting her own head slightly upward, she peered down her nose at him. A wet clucking sound came from her mouth as she turned him the other way. “Hmmm…” she muttered, releasing his face and sitting up straight on him.

Lam now saw the sky had grown dark, as if the blackness that had overtaken his vision in sleep had somehow stained the expanse, and he had ruined it forever. Maybe that’s why the old woman had pinned him to the ground. Why wasn’t he afraid anymore?

In the light of a huge bonfire raging nearby, he saw he was no longer where he had fallen asleep. Gone were the droopy leaves hanging over him, and the soft bed of vines underneath him. How had he gotten here? The flames from the fire, with its sparks and embers floating into the night, mesmerized him. Had he ever seen anything so beautiful? The sky had been beautiful, but had it been as beautiful as this fire? He realized this was the flicker reflecting in the old woman’s eyes, and almost smiled as the thought occurred to him that this same beauty was flickering in his own eyes as well.

Beyond the sound of the round woman’s labored breathing, Lam became aware he was hearing something else. Consistent chirping came from the darkness in all directions. Had the birds returned? Had they been waiting for night to come out? That seemed odd. No, this must be something else. Weren’t there night creatures here?
Crickets.
Yes. The silence that had deafened him was broken at last, by crickets. Lam did smile now. He was no longer alone.

“SEED!”

The old woman jolted him from his thoughts. How was such an old woman able to project her voice so
loudly?

A murmuring joined in the chorus of crickets. Voices! There were people here! Had the Others found him after all? Was this woman one of them? His internal anxiety increased, but his body remained strangely calm and unmoving. He knew his life was over now. His body was already lost.

With the aid of a thick tree branch that had been stripped and shaped, the woman slowly stood her plump, old body off him. He realized that was most likely the stick that had been used to poke him awake.

She spread her arms to each side, never taking her eyes from his face, never dropping the smile from her face. There was a rustling and shuffling all around, and Lam saw a ring of people moving into view. They drew closer and stared at him. Lam squeezed his eyes shut and felt the tension in his body increase as he braced for the Others to recognize him and rush to attack him.