Like Veins of Red Rubies (Most Precious Book 1) (5 page)

Stanley's eyes slowly crept open.
He looked over to Emily who was still sleeping. He sat up on the side of his
bed and rested his eyes. Soon after, he puffed air out of his nose and cleared
his throat.

He looked down at his mattress
before lifting it. Under it were the three sticks and the plastic tube. He stared
at them with his tired eyes. He stood up, walked over to his closet, and
changed into his work clothes. He grabbed the apron off the rack as he walked
out.

The street was empty and the
lights were still dimmed. Almost all the domiciles were dark except for a few.
He walked past all of them and went to the town square. Mr. Albertson was
sitting on a bench.

"Hello there, Stanley,"
said Mr. Albertson. "I see you're a bit early today."

"Hello Mr. Albertson,"
Stanley said. He looked up at the clock that read six. "You're early
too."

"Ever since we started
digging, I've had trouble containing my excitement," said Mr. Albertson.
He patted on the bench seat beside him.

"I was going to get a pill.
Would you want one?" said Stanley.

"Oh that would be
grand."

Stanley walked over to the
vending machine and put two coins in. He received two pills and two small cups
of water. He held the pills in one hand and the cups in the other and returned
to the bench.

Mr. Albertson extended both hands
and took a cup of water. Stanley handed him a pill. 

"Thank you," Mr.
Albertson said.

"No problem."

They both swallowed their pills
and drank their water.

Stanley took Mr. Albertson's cup
and disposed of it in the recycle slot. Then he walked over and sat on the
bench.

"What has gotten you up this
early?" said Mr. Albertson.

"I've slept a bit early the
other night," Stanley said. "I would usually sleep in, but today just
felt different."

"Ah, you’re having trouble
containing your excitement as well. Know that you're well not alone. The
thought of reaching the surface had grasped my mind ever since the first day. I
could never truly find rest. But here, in the morning, I am alone, and I can
think freely."

"Would you call it
daydreaming?" said Stanley.

Mr. Albertson chuckled.
"Yes, I suppose. They are fantasies, really. Grand pictures I would paint
since I was a child. My great--grandmother used to share her stories. She was a
young girl when the first settlers moved down here. And her words were of true
beauty. She would describe the trees, the seas, and even the stars that would
shine at night."

"Like the trees in the
atrium? And the stars in the observatory?"

"No. The trees we have are
imitations. The stars we have are only light. Above, the trees are many, not in
neat rows and not kept under constant care. They are clustered and grow without
boundaries, in fields and meadows all around. The stars are real places, far
away from our Earth. They are burning balls of fire that live and die in robust
ecstasy. These are images, ideas that we will never fully understand."

"You seem to know the most
about the surface," Stanley said. "No one else has ever said such
things. I've never been told of anything like that."

"Oh yes, I know a lot. I
used to visit the archives every day when I was a young boy. I read our history
backwards, hoping that I would read up to the origin of life. But as I grew
older and had family to look after, I could not find time to read. But I
realized that I would never be able to read that far back in ten lifetimes!"

"Really?"

"Yes, our history stems far.
But nobody visits the archives anymore," Mr. Albertson said. "It is
so seldom used that even the maintenance system refrains from cleaning
it."

"I've never visited it
myself," Stanley said.

"I suggest you find time to
do so. That is, unless we dig out of here sooner." Mr. Albertson leaned in
and said, "How close are you?"

"We expect to dig out within
two days," Stanley said.

Mr. Albertson smiled and smacked
his lips. "Well then, no need visited them. We'll have the real thing
soon."

The two sat there for a while and
stared up at the dark, gray, metal ceiling.

A few hours later, Mr. Roberts
and a few council members approached from the domiciles.

"Mr. Barrett, it is nice to
see you early," he said. "Mr. Albertson, you’re early as usual."

"Good morning," said
Stanley. He waved at the council members who nodded in response. "I didn't
realize that so many people woke up this early."

"It's only been like this
from the past few days," said Mr. Roberts. "The tremendous progress
you and Victor have made has made some of us restless."

"What are you going to do
now?" said Stanley.

"We are thinking of pushing
some of the dirt into the lake," said Mr. Roberts. "Once we drill
through, we'll need a way for the women and children to cross. Simply filling
the lake won't do, but it's a start."

"No good sitting here,"
said Mr. Albertson. He stood up and walked over to the broken wall.

Stanley and Mr. Roberts followed.
Mr. Albertson had already joined the others in shifting the dirt from around
the tunnels to the other side of lake. But the pile had grown large. With his
bare hands, Stanley pushed the pile farther down, along the lake and patted it
with his feet to spread it evenly. Mr. Roberts helped.

"It sure would be nice to
have some sort of tool to help us here," said Mr. Roberts. "Look how
dirty my hands have become." He went over to Stanley and showed him his
hands. Dirt caked within the wrinkles and even stuck deep within his nails.

"There is no time to worry
about your pretty hands, Mr. Roberts," said Mr. Albertson. "You've
got more coming your way." He pushed another mound of dirt into the lake.

 After hours of moving dirt,
Victor, Ailey, and the other council members arrived.

"You're an excited
bunch," said Victor. "It's kind of disturbing to see how committed
you are."

"Are you not excited? Not
even a little bit?" said Mr. Roberts.

"The lethal weapons we've
found stamp out any excitement," said Victor. "I believe that is the
rational thought to be had, the thought of a normal man."

"What is normal now?"
said Mr. Albertson. "This is a new time. Emotions will fluster and change
as it always has."

Everyone was silent.

Finally, Mr. Roberts said,
"The
lake
has been filled enough. Let the dig
commence."

Everyone went over to their
tunnels and equipped their gear. Victor took his drill and proceeded to climb
the tunnel. Stanley followed.

Victor climbed up the ledges at a
fairly timed pace, but he was still not as masterful as Stanley. Every few
ledges, Victor would pause to take a breath, and Stanley would wait patiently,
at one point, sighing.

Victor reached the top. He was
slow to secure his feet in the ledges, and it took him a while to withdraw his
drill. He even closed his visor lazily.

"Don't do this to spite
me," Stanley said. "We are almost out. Let us start and be done with
it."

Victor aimed his drill and began
in that instant. It took him a few minutes to adjust himself, but when he found
his balance, he proceeded to drill with amazing fortitude. He dug his drill
deeper in and progressed up a ledge every few seconds. The dirt fell too
quickly and in large amounts. Even Stanley had trouble managing it that he had
to say, "Slow down. I cannot keep up." But Victor did not relent. He
gave a small smirk and continued upward.

Stanley did what he could to
trudge through, but his load piled to tremendous amounts that he fell a few
ledges behind Victor.

"Slow your pace,"
Stanley said. "We may actually find some trouble."

But Victor continued on.

"Did you not hear me?"

Victor did not respond.

Stanley rushed to push the dirt
that had buried his legs. He pushed some down, but more quickly fell to fill in
the gaps, and surely his arms trembled. The dirt eventually enveloped his legs,
up to his waist. All Stanley could do was to keep the dirt from piling. But he
could not remove it in time. The dirt started to form around Victor's feet, and
gradually rose.

Victor stopped drilling and
looked down at his legs. "Why are my legs stuck?"

"Did you not hear my
warnings?" Stanley said.

"Only
once."

"Well look what
happened."

"Just get out of
there," Victor said.

Stanley rested his arms on the
dirt and took a deep breath before digging his hands into the dirt. He
tightened his chest and pushed the dirt down. There was no noticeable shift,
but little bits of dirt rolled down, until it gathered and slid down in one
wave. Stanley’s legs were caught within the dirt and he slid with it. He
reached out and dug his hands into the ledges. The dirt slowed, so he wriggled
his legs, but his left hand released its grasp from the ledge. The sudden shift
of his body caused the rest of the balanced dirt to break. It slid down past
Stanley’s face, chest, and legs, all the way down the tunnel. Stanley shot his
left arm upward and curled his fingers around a ledge. The last of the dirt
fell and he repositioned his feet. He rested his head and panted.

"A true test of strength,
that was," Victor said.

"Shut up."

"Well then, let’s get on
it." Victor brought his drill up and dug again, slower this time, but he
stopped soon after.

"What is this?" Victor
said. He slowly lowered his drill, but a spiky sheet of circular metal fell and
clung just on the tip of his drill. The dirt around it cleared to reveal its
full size: almost the width of the tunnel itself. The serrated edges dangled
close to his face. "No, no, no," he uttered.

Stanley looked up. "What’s
the matter?"

"Stay down, all the way
down, you hear me?" Victor tightened his grip on the drill and quickly
pulled it, throwing the sheet down the tunnel. It flew past Stanley, who had
planted himself flat in the ground.

Stanley looked down as the sheet
slid.

"Look out!" called
Victor. Both he and Stanley held their breaths and listened quietly. Moments
later, a screech echoed up their tunnel.

Stanley flipped to his back and
slid down and Victor followed. They reached the bottom and found Mr. Roberts on
the floor with his hands above him, cut and bleeding all over.

"Get this man to the vending
machines!" said Stanley. A few men walked over and carried Mr. Roberts
away.  They walked past the dirt lake, where the metal sheet had imbedded
itself into. They took him out to town square where the crowd immediately saw
him and gasped. Women shrieked and children were taken away. The men stepped
forward and poked their heads out.

Stanley ran ahead and withdrew a
pill and water from the vending machine. He returned to Mr. Roberts, who
uttered, "I can’t."

Stanley forced the pill down his
throat and poured the water in.

Mr. Roberts swallowed and
coughed. The blood retracted into his wounds and the flesh around them sealed.
He was filled with breath. He composed himself and calmly stood up. The crowd
looked at him, and he looked back. He turned to Stanley and Victor and said,
"What hurt me?"

"Did you not see it?"
Victor said.

"So much dirt came down all
of a sudden. We were only focused on getting it all out."

"Oh yes. Victor wouldn’t
maintain a steady pace," Stanley said.

"Stay on point here,"
Victor cut in. "The thing was another weapon. It was like nothing we've
ever come across."

"Is it inside?" said
Mr. Roberts.

"Yes," said Victor.

Ailey ran out from the cave and
said, "Mr. Roberts, we need you quickly. Mr. Albertson is hurt."
Ailey ran back inside.

The crowd mumbled and looked to each
other worriedly. Mr. Roberts ran into the cave. Stanley, Victor, and the
council members followed.

Ailey and a few men were at a
tunnel. They were all shouting, "Push now Mr. Albertson!"

"What happened?" said
Mr. Roberts.

"Mr. Albertson was digging
ahead of me," said Ailey. "I insisted that I should drill, but he
brushed me off. He had something fall on him, something big."

"Why didn’t you carry him
out?" said Victor.

"The thing was in the
way," Ailey said.

"Everybody, stand
back," said one of the men. "I can see it coming down." All the
men scattered from the tunnel as a large white object tumbled out and crashed
deep into the dirt floor. Everybody stared at it with wide eyes.

"What is that?" said
Stanley.

Victor approached and touched it.
"I don’t know," he said. "It’s smooth." He knocked on it.
"And it’s hard enough to kill someone."