12...

Pima had no response to that, to the pity in this...this thing’s voice. And soon, she was

too swept up in visions of the past to care.

These memories couldn’t all be hers. The visions became more and more fractured.

Images of faces, mostly, interspersed with the land. Horrible, hideous visions of poisonous fog

and blackened fields and starless nights, dead wildlife and scared, scarred people. Gunshots

and screams and boxy monsters that exploded in such force, whole buildings were knocked

down.

These images did not fit with those of her mother’s steady hands bandaging her knee,

Akish’s laughing face, the bright blue painted house surrounded by wildflowers that had to be

left behind.

Pima fell to her knees and screamed in agony. Whether her cries were spoken out loud

or not, she didn’t know or care. The pain was so real, so deep, that she almost didn’t stand,

almost laid down right there on the steps, and begged for release.

But she instinctively knew that she’d breached a barrier. She’d won another unspoken

challenge, and there was just one more. One final challenge. She had to stand. She had to keep

going until she couldn’t, or what was the point of all this?

She gritted her teeth against the throbbing ache that pervaded her whole body. And she

stood, locking her knees against the dizziness. And she bent her head, pushing forward against

the onslaught of sights and sounds and smells. And she climbed.

A square of light became visible up ahead. Pima fixed her eyes on it. Each step now was

less painful but more draining. There was no other word to describe it. Something was being

drained from her. She was so tired, she didn’t even blink when a man appeared at the top of the

stairs or hesitate when he offered her a hand.

She started when she felt his cool touch. He was more than memory. Guardian.

She pulled back, looking behind her for Akish’s form. Though when she saw him

standing there, she wished she hadn’t. She stood between the two not quite substantial figures,

quivering and breathless.

Without a word, the man stepped back and made a wide-armed gesture that seemed to

say, Choose. Light from the window - natural, orangish-yellow, late afternoon light - fell on its

face. It wasn’t Neeman’s father. Peering up at its face, Pima couldn’t see how she’d thought it

was. This figure was thinner, more angular in features, and it had a salt and pepper beard. A

stranger. Why would the Tower choose a stranger to confront her?

Pima cringed back from it again, away from the window. If the view on the other side of

the glass was true, she didn’t want to see. The door seemed more promising. At least, she was

used to doors by now. But there was no lock. There had to be a lock!

He turned away from the window and peered down the short hallway that led off to the

right of the door. There, caught in a beam of light from the window, was a golden keyhole. No

door, no opening, no knob. Just a keyhole set in the wall.

That was it. The beginning. The end. She inched towards it. Raised the key. Lined it up

with the lock. It slid in with a faint click. Pima became aware of a low buzzing sound in her head.

Though whether it was the key’s doing or the Tower’s, she didn’t know.

Her hand shook as she grasped the key’s handle and twisted it...or tried to. It wouldn’t

budge. She jiggled it and immediately felt silly. It wasn’t an ordinary stuck lock. She looked back

at the two shadowy figures behind her; they stared back with impassive faces.

“How---?”

The door behind the strange man clicked open. He moved out of the way, and Akish’s

form stepped to the other side of the door, two stoic sentinels. Pima’s legs trembled, her breath

caught in her chest, and her head swam, but she took those ten shuffling steps forward, eyes

locked on Akish’s face.

Then one more step, face turned toward the door, eyes closed. And one more, until she

stood at the room’s threshold, and peered inside.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“The Maze”

Pima blinked at the sudden brightness. She took in the room slowly as her eyes adjusted to thelight.

A couch was pushed up against one wall. A floor lamp with a yellow shade cast its sunny light over

the cushions. A chair and wooden side table faced the chair against the opposite wall, occupying the

remainder of the cramped space. There was barely room for someone to walk between the couch and the

chair to get to the door on the other side of the room.

Taking a closer look, she noted that the walls were bare but painted a pale blue that matched the

carpet. She resisted the urge to reach down and touch the floor. She had no memory of lying on carpet

before, but she bet it would make a soft bed.

“Daddy.”

Pima jumped. The blanket on the couch moved. A head appeared above the blanket, and Pima

shrank back. She felt a little foolish hiding from a memory, but she was taken aback by the face that

looked back at her. It was clearly Akish, but an Akish with rounded cheeks, wide, innocent eyes, and tiny

hands that gripped the blanket under his chin.

“Daddy!”

“Shhh, Son. What is it?”

A man entered the room through the other door. He sat down on the chair across from Akish and

patted his leg.

Akish sat up and rubbed sleep from his eyes. The blanket slipped revealing a blue t-shirt with red

and white paint splattered across an image of a man in a blue bodysuit with a red cape. Pima’s eyebrows

knitted at the curious sight.

“Is the baby here yet?”

“Not yet. You should go to bed. I’ll wake you when she’s here.”

“No, you won’t.”

The man laughed. “You’re probably right. But you need your rest. You can meet your baby sister

in the morning.”

Akish crossed his arms and shook his head.

The man sighed. “Suit yourself. But your mother needs me.” He stood and held up a corner of the

blanket. When Akish didn’t lay back down, he settled the blanket around the boy’s legs and tousled his

hair. “It won’t be long now.”

He hit a dimmer switch on the lamp before he left, and shadows appeared at the corners of the

room. Akish leaned against the back of the couch. His eyes were already starting to grow heavy.

It took effort for Pima to drag her eyes away from him. The man had disappeared through the

door and down the hall.

“Hey! Wait!”

Pima took a step forward and then fell back as a stab of surprise coursed through her body. Until

that moment, she didn’t know if she would be able to enter the scene beyond the door. She extended her

hand, inch by inch, and stared at her fingers as they passed through the doorway. When nothing

happened, she cast one more look at the stranger standing beside the door and then ran into the room.

“Dad? Dad, wait!”

-----------------------------

To be continued...