Chapter 25

Other people streamed onto the lawn from two large doors in the complex. They all lined up in a giant square without a hint of novice one after the other, all separated by an arm's length.

"Go ahead and line up with the others," Cotton said and merged into the crowd. Avery got in behind someone who didn't look twice at him.

An older man wearing a white robe with a gold decoration around the collar came by holding a small wooden platform. He set it on the grass, stood on it, and commanded, "Running in place. Ready-go!"

For the next sixty minutes. Avery ran in place, did sit-ups, did push-ups, did leg lifts, ran in place more, did some strange dash-push-up-jumping-jack-dash maneuver, and then sit-ups again.

He felt like he was going to die. Being forced into a decathlon after years of physical neglect was like torture. His joints stung. His side felt like someone was sliding a cheese grater alongside his appendix. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to pass out, he wanted a drink of water. He wanted life to end.

For the beginning, he just did as he was told. He swiveled his hips, stretched his back, and watched the others. This was his first chance to see his peers, and he was supposed to fit in with them. Everyone wore the same white robes and they all moved in unison, like synchronized swimmers.

No one could possibly have been over forty. No one had wild hair or tattoos. No one was different, no one was treated differently. No one stopped for those who were weaker, no one pushed anyone. They all did as they were instructed.

Then his body started hurting, and he could no longer concentrate on watching. All he did was repeat the mantra "I want to die, I want to die, I want to die." He had to keep his mind off the pain that surged through him with every heartbeat. He couldn't yield, couldn't give up, couldn't toss his cookies on the grass. He had to pretend he was as fit as them.

And then, they stopped. There was no cool down. The class leader simply quit spouting out directions. The people around him relaxed and took heavy breaths, but did not look out of shape, like Avery who couldn't resist stooping, panting like a dog. No one noticed him though.

The leader shouted and they all went back into the building. Avery followed them, trying to look as if he knew where he was going. There was no pushing, no shuffling, no traffic jams. Everyone knew when the other was going to move and moved accordingly.

It turned out to be the great hall, where again, they came in through both archways, lined up in neat rows, and faced the stage. Some murmured to each other, but Avery couldn't pick out what they said.

This must have been praise and worship, like Cotton said. Avery looked around with the fascination of a newborn, trying to drink it all in and not being sure of what to make of it.

A man wearing a red robe and white mask over his face walked onto the stage, holding a book. Several people dressed in robes like monks joined him. The ones in brown lit candles while the man held up his hands.

That was when Avery knew this was going to be the farthest thing from a corporate retreat he had ever heard of.

"Friends," he started. "It is a glorious day, and you are its light. Bask with us, brothers and sisters. You are pure of heart and pure of tongue. Open your mind and let our goodness bathe within you, to lick your soul and taste your brain. It will bring you to higher evolution. Pestis cruento vilomaxus pretiacruento."

Avery thought he misheard that last bit, until the crowd repeated it and he still didn't understand. It sounded like Latin, and he felt like he'd heard something like that before.

"Never before has mankind been given this chance. To become the future, to embody it. New enlightenment is at hand. Many of you do not see this, but you will, if you accept. Cruo-stragaraNa malactose. Peroshay cruo."

He opened his book and read something in that gibberish language again. "In marana domus-bhaava cruo crunatus durbe pretaanluxis cruonit. Your own minds cannot be trusted. When we were young, we ran to and fro without care. Ignorance in our hearts about the world around us. We cannot do this anymore. We cannot live in fear. There are places reserved for those who can learn this. We can learn to be better than we are, if we accept that which we fear."

Walker had told Avery to shut out their attempts to re-educate him, but Avery had tuned the guy out automatically. He kept blabbing on about how they were special, how they had to achieve past their limits and blah-blah-blah. It was half gibberish and half brainwashing, and Avery could drift off as easily as he had done in college. Their cultic doctrine had met its match.

"Let us bow our heads and meditate on this lesson," the orator said after finishing with some more foreign language. The audience knelt down, shuffling robes and sandals, and touched their heads to their clasped hands on the floor. Avery followed, watching the people to the left and front of him for the cues.

Cotton had said this wasn't praying. He'd said the distinction would be clear when he did it. Now he was doing it and there was a guy on stage telling them what to do. They all had their heads and hands prostate in submission. And they were supposed to be 'meditating' on something. Sure looked like prayer to him.

He couldn't believe people who came here accepted this without protesting or contacting the states. Didn't they ever get uber-Christians who kicked and stomped on anything that wasn't their own religion? Was everyone in Cabalco wiped out before starting?

He never understood prayer and never would. Plus, it was boring. The guy up there rattled on and on. He raised his head up slightly and opened his eyes. He was sent here to spy, after all.

Everyone else had their heads down, like in Muslim prayer. No one was moving. Even the minister wasn't watching them. He looked to his right.

The red-haired girl was sitting next to him.

It was the same person he ran into yesterday. Avery turned away at first, thinking he didn't want to be recognized, then turned back. He could get a good look at her now, while she wouldn't even be aware of it. Her skin was as pallid as the mountain snow, and her hair a deep crimson like blood. She looked as peaceful as a sleeping baby in that pose. He got a warmth just by looking at her, as if that was all he needed. She looked motherly and safe.

The chanting stopped and everyone stood. Avery whipped his head back to position. The orator kept on with his harangue. Like everyone, he faced forward, unwavering, but he kept sneaking peeks at her throughout.

"Now turn and go," the orator said. "Go and apply this to your groups. Find the truth that lies within you, find the purity. Give your control over. Stand. Take up your sword against your fear and doubt. And go."

Everyone went. People milled about, talking to each other, walking into the archways. Avery shuffled around, pretending he was one of them. It was time for the meetings, so he had to get going somewhere. Without thinking, he turned right, and ran smack into the redhead.

"Oof," he uttered. He managed to turn in time to avoid crashing foreheads. She shrieked.

"Sorry," she said.

"Sorry," he quickly turned around. Where was he supposed to go?

"Over here, Avery!" Cotton waved his hand above the crowd. Avery went over, hoping he couldn't embarrass himself any more than he already had.

"What'd you think?" Cotton said. Before Avery could answer, he said, "Pretty unusual, huh? Don't worry. It's more symbolic than anything. Don't take it word for word. It's more of a homage to the space we share with the religious sect."

"Religious sect? So you share the space with the monks?"

"Not the ones who used to live here. I mean, that's not important anyway. Doesn't matter. Come on, let's introduce you to the meeting group."

Cotton walked him through the archway, trailing behind the crowd. Most people had already entered their rooms. They stopped in front of room 258.

"Here you go," Cotton said. "Usually, I'd be leading this class, but I've got a special training meeting event to go to today. Sorry to abandon you on your first day. I'd reschedule it if I could. I hate these deviations from the schedule, they're really jarring."

Avery nodded, wishing the same thing. What was he supposed to do without Cotton? He didn't know anyone here besides him.

"So go ahead. Be honest, be truthful. Remember the lesson. I'll see you later." He waved and walked away. Avery breathed out and opened the door.

Five people sat on the blue mat in the center. One of them was the red-haired girl.

Damn, how did they keep running into each other? She averted her gaze as he entered.

Of the remaining four, three were males and one female with a black line around her collar, indicating she was someone in authority. She was a stocky woman with curled brown hair and a face like a Midwestern mother. She stood up and shook Avery's hand.

"Hello, you are Avery," she said. "Welcome." She pulled the handshake into a hug. Avery's eyes bulged.

"Let's sit down," she gestured. Her expression made him think of a twelve-year-old meeting her favorite boy band star, all starry-eyed and gawking. "Let's welcome Avery to the group. He's our newest member of the training."

"Hello Avery, I'm glad you're here," said one of the guys who had a mole on his cheek and reminded Avery of a cab driver. "I'm Jason."

"I'm Friedrich, but you can call me Fred," said another guy with blond hair.

"Neil," said the last male with short brown hair and bedroom eyes.

"I'm Jennika," the red-haired girl said and then looked away abashed. Avery nodded and smiled, not believing how cute she was.

"And my name is Christy," said the teacher. "Let me tell you a little bit about what we're trying to do here. And it may seem unusual at first, so bear with me. Our mission here is introspection. We want you to... look inside yourself and analyze."

She was either looking for the right words, or trying to stuff in dramatic emphasis. "We want you to analyze who you are and what your position in life is. We're going to look at what's holding you back, and give you the tools to push yourself forward. Sound good?"

"Sure," Avery said, trying not to sound apathetic.

"The key is to weed out the impurities in your mind that are holding back your own potential. What is the worst sin you've ever committed?"

Avery hooked one hand onto his wrist and his eyes widened. He was too surprised at her callousness and directness to be angry. "That's a rather personal question, isn't it?"

"It's okay," Jason said.

"No need to be hostile. We're just trying to help," Neil said, "See, whatever the worst thing that you've done is, it's probably a secret. Right?"

Avery didn't want to give anything away. "Maybe."

"And you've kept secrets before. They eat you up inside, they make you sick. And they make you a bad person, because you're holding back truth."

"Haven't you ever had a secret that you just couldn't keep inside you?" Christy said.

Avery thought he was actually good at keeping secrets. He never gossiped about anyone. He had kept his sister's driving tickets a secret. And he never told a soul about his Ace of Base albums. "No, not really," Avery said.

"Well, you must have done something terrible," Jason said, "Everyone has," he gestured to the group. "It's human nature, it's okay. If you admit your guilt, you can take the power out of it. We've all affirmed our own evils."

Avery said, "I don't see how my evils are any of your business."

The others, Jason and Neil especially, looked agitated at Avery's resistance. Fred said, "What will other people think of you if you don't tell us?"

Christy scooted closer to Avery, invading his personal space. In a motherly tone, she said, "Avery, have you ever felt like you're not living up to your potential? That's because you live in fear. Fear of people finding out your secrets, fear that you're not good enough, not strong enough. You think that's going to take something away."

Avery had never thought this, but in a way it made sense, in a philosophical way.

Christy said, "We do bad things to ease the fear. Instead of breaking through it, which can hurt, we run from it, rather than face the pain. Like you're doing right now. You have to break through the fear, Avery. Acknowledging what you've done in the past is the first step."

Avery rubbed his forearm. "It's not that I don't want to. It's just personal."

"I understand, Avery." Christy placed her hand under his tensed elbow. He tightened up even more. "You feel fear right now, don't you? It's limiting you from accepting us. Talking about it takes the power out of your sins. Why don't you steel your courage and break through that barrier?"

Jason piped in, "Fear is a creation of your mind. It's a soft wall that stretches on forever." He held out his hands to indicate how big. "It looks like you can't break through it, but it's really as soft as cotton. Most people don't want to break through it. But to overcome personal fear is really effortless if you can just 'get up'."

Fred said, "Have you ever been on a roller coaster?"

Avery nodded, "Yeah."

"Didn't it look scary when you looked at it from the ground, but when you got on it, it wasn't so bad?"

"Sort of. I never actually had a problem with roller coasters."

"Well, you seem to be having a problem now," Neil said. "Why don't you open up to us? We're like your family. Telling us will bring you closer.

"We shouldn't keep secrets from each other, right? So tell us your biggest one. Get it out of the way."

"Right," Avery uttered. "Well, I don't know."

"Tell you what," Christy said. "Why don't we go around the room first. And we can each tell our biggest sin. Will that make you feel better?"

"Sure." Whatever delayed his own turn from coming up.

"Jason?" Christy prompted.

Jason breathed deep. "I used to steal. I started when I was young. I would steal things like candy bars from the drugstore. Then little toys. Just stuff I wanted. It was there, I took it. At the time, I was too young to understand why stealing was wrong. I guess my moral centers weren't developed by then, and no one caught me. So I kept stealing and I grew up with no conscience about this. When I was a teenager I stole clothes. As an adult I stole everything I thought I could get away with."

This sounded rehearsed, like they'd done this before.

"And they never caught me. They never caught me because I was smart about it. I was never conspicuous, I avoided stores with high security. I tried to justify it with stupid excuses like that it was over-priced anyway, just lining fat-cat business executive pockets. Or that it was the fault of the store, they didn't have better anti-theft systems. Or that it was a victimless crime."

He sighed. "All those excuses were lying to myself. Taking something from others is not right. You have to pay for it. You can't take without giving. I hurt people financially and I hurt their pride.

"So that all changed when I came here, and they showed me all this. And now I feel absolved of my sin. I feel like a better person, like I had the best night's sleep."

He turned to Fred, who started. "I drank a lot. Wasn't an alcoholic, technically. I never hurt anyone physically with my drinking. I didn't drive a car into my best friend's wedding, and I didn't beat my wife or anything. But I always went out on the weekends with my buddies. And we always went to the local bar, and we always drank. And I always drank to get drunk. I didn't see the point otherwise it's vile, nasty stuff there's no reason to drink it except for the sensation. So I always got so drunk my friends had to take care of me. They had to bring me to the bathroom to puke my guts out, or drive me home, or get a taxi for me. But they were always taking care of me."

"Well, that's good," Avery said. "They weren't letting you hurt anyone, they were watching out for you."

"No, that's not it. Don't you see? I was being a burden on my friends. And wasting money on a cheap thrill. After I lost my first job, I got so drunk my friends brought me to a hospital for detox. Then I applied to Cabalco, and worked my way up till I got here. Now I'm glad, because now I know I don't need to drink to be happy. Now they've given me the self-confidence I need. The only thing I drink now is the sacramental wine at supper, and it's never tasted sweeter."

Avery had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"Neil?" Christy prompted.

"My father had an affair when he was married." He said no more than that. Was that his whole story?

"Why's that your fault?" Avery said.

"Because I'm the product of that affair."

Avery cocked his eyebrow, trying to use discretion. "I'm still not seeing why that's your fault."

"Because I'm the evidence of infidelity in my family. I have to wear that mark and everyone sees it. Most of all, myself. It's like a big boulder on my back I have to carry around, and I can never shrug it."

Avery leaned forward. "But you didn't do it, you can't blame yourself for that. You didn't cause your father to cheat. You didn't do anything but be born, and you didn't have control of that."

Christy held up her hand before Neil said anything. "Avery," she said, "Not all of our sins need be our own fault. Sometimes things happen that either we are not conscious of or have no control over, but that doesn't mean we still don't retain that sin on our souls."

Jason said, "If you stepped on an ant, but didn't know it, you've still caused the undue death of another."

"It's an ant," Avery responded.

"But it's still one of the creatures of the Earth," Christy said.

"But it's an ant. We kill millions of things every day. If you rub your eyebrows, you're probably killing millions of bacteria and organisms. You can kill brain cells by slapping your forehead. Do you think you're causing tree abortions by eating fruit?"

"It's a crime to kill people even without intent, right? It's called manslaughter," Christy said.

"Well, yeah," Avery said. "But that's different. That's for people like drunk drivers. People who were doing dangerous stuff anyway."

"That's still indiscriminate murder. As far as I know, that's how the law works," said Neil.

Avery said, "Well, there's no manslaughter in nature. And that's not even what we're talking about."

"Avery," Christy said, and touched him on the leg. "We're not here to judge these people's confessions right now. We're just here to listen and accept. They've already judged themselves, and no one judges more harshly than the self. We're here to listen and absolve. They feel their own shame and guilt and they have to live with that every day. We'd like you to focus more on the efforts to repair that sin. You must know that all humans sin, right?"

"Right," Avery said. He didn't believe that 'every man is born in sin', but you could hardly get away in life without doing a few things wrong.

Christy said, "So we need to look at why this happened, and see that everything lies in the same root fear. We're going to be specialists in fear by the end of it. Specialize, don't analyze."

"Right," Avery said.

"So, do you feel unafraid enough to tell us your sin now?" she asked in a sweet tone.

"Errrr," Avery stammered and looked around, trying to find an excuse. "Wait, she hasn't gone yet."

He pointed to Jennika. She hadn't said a thing so far except her timid greeting. He felt a pang of guilt pointing her out, but it wasn't like he was unjustified.

Her saucer-sized eyes widened, then she looked to a corner of the mat.

"Jennika?" Christy asked. "Oh, Jennika is special. She was born here. She's always been a part of the program. She has no sins to confess, because she's never committed any."

"But I thought you said all humans sin."

"Well, Jennika is special. Since she's lived here all her life and followed us, we've guided her so that she's never committed a sin. Only in the outside world can you commit sins to your soul. As long as you stay here, you stay clean. Make sense?"

"Yeah, I guess," Avery said. In the back of his mind, he was trying to comprehend Jennika's life. Nothing but group meetings and exercises and whatever else? No TV? No Taco Bell? No bicycles, telephones, or... jeez, the sheer number of things missing from her life was staggering.

"Do you feel more comfortable?" Christy said.

"I guess." And he did.

"Would you like to tell us now?"

"Umm, I'm just not sure."

"If you don't tell us," said Jason, "We'll have to assume you're trying to make yourself look better than us. You're not doing that, are you?"

"No," Avery said sardonically, "I'm just... nervous."

Everyone kept saying how wonderful it was how cleansing, purifying, the best thing they'd ever done. Sure, why not? Getting something off your chest felt good. But with this group of strangers? In front of Jennika?

"Tell you what," Christy said. "Why not tell us something small you feel guilty about. Maybe something you recently did?"

That made Avery relax because one came to mind immediately. "Oh, yeah," he exclaimed. "There was a really annoying guy on the train, so I cussed him out."

"You sound like you're proud of that," said Neil.

"Well, no, but I thought he got what he deserved. He was some big shot tycoon, trying to pretend like he knew me. He was probably trying to sell me something. Don't you hate people like that?"

"Why do you?" Christy said.

There was no hesitance in his answer. "Because they're pushy and obnoxious, and they lie to you all the time. They try to be your friend, but there's not a hint of sincerity behind it."

Neil said, "Is that something you hate about him? Or something you hate about yourself."

"Something I hate about him," Avery said sarcastically. "I don't have any of those traits. I'm not pushy, I'm not trying to be everyone's friend all the time. I mean what I say."

"Avery, Avery, let's back up for a second," Christy said, making the 'stop' motion with her open palm. "I'm hearing a lot of fear from you. Fear and doubt. Let's look at the situation. Now, here was an innocent man, totally unaware of your existence, who was trying to make friends."

"He was an asshole," Avery said, wondering if there were rules against swearing here. He opted to choose the word that best fit. "He was coming up with all these reasons why he and I were alike, and he was totally wrong."

"He was trying to compare yourself to him. And you didn't like that, because you didn't want to be that sort of person," Christy said.

"Right."

"But do you think he meant anything bad by it? Do you think he was trying to antagonize you?"

"No, probably not," Avery shrugged.

"See, you reacted with primal urges. That makes us no better than animals. You didn't think about the situation."

"Oh come on, I'm never going to see him again. It doesn't matter."

"But it does. You may have put him in a bad mood that day. Maybe his feelings grew and he went home and beat his wife or his kids."

Avery gave them a look. "I really doubt that."

"Perhaps, but maybe he was angry and flipped someone off at an intersection. And that person went home and beat his wife. You see the far-reaching implications your attitude can have? How a spark of fear and hate can grow?"

Avery shrugged, "Maybe. That might've happened, but that's a lot of maybes."

"The more you act like you did, the more likely it could happen. You see, you assumed that your actions had no harm. You did it because it felt good. And you can't tell what consequences your actions will have. Do you want to be like a bad dog, snapping and biting everyone that comes past?"

Avery thought the question was rhetorical, but the pause indicated it wasn't. Everyone stared at him with the same expression, a combination of wanting, hatred, reproach, and shame.

"No," he answered meekly. Then he caught a glimpse of Jennika. Her expression hurt the most because there wasn't a hint of anger in it, just sad despair. Like she was expecting something, and then lost it.

Christy said "It was selfish of you to think about your own desires and your own feelings above someone else's. And not even for a reward, just self-satisfaction."

"I was just frustrated at the long trip." Avery felt a glint of tears forming.

"It may feel good to lash out at someone at first, but it only leaves you empty inside. Don't you feel empty right now?"

"A little," Avery whispered.

"You lashed out because you fear unknown people. You feared what he would have said to you. You feared yourself."

They waited for a response from him. "Um... sorry," Avery said.

"You should be apologizing to yourself. You're the one that's hurt."

"But I thought you said I hurt him."

"But only you can control you. And you hurt now, don't you?"

"Maybe a little."

"And is there any meaning in your hurt? There is none, is there?"

Avery looked away and shrugged again. "Not really."

"Do you want to put meaning into it?"

"How do I do that?"

"You have to realize that you are born in sin and that serving others is the only way to absolution of that sin. You have to give of yourself as much as possible. The more you give of yourself, the more you get back. The human soul is strange that way, but it's the truth."

"Oh, okay," Avery said.

"It's the only way..." Jennika said. Avery perked up. "... that you'll be able to forgive yourself."

It was the first time she'd spoken during the entire conversation in her soft, melodic voice. He nodded, unable to turn away again.

Christy interrupted his gaze by holding his hand. Avery was forced to switch from Jennika's eyes to her ruddy face. "You feel any better?" she said.

"Yes," Avery lied. In truth, he felt worse. Guilty, rotten, like a risen corpse, someone who didn't belong there. But he lied to make everyone else feel good. They were trying so hard and he wanted to please them. Especially... well, never mind.

Christy and the others spent the remaining time analyzing Avery's situation. They tore it apart, nitpicking every detail, every word said, every tone and intonation of the voice, and showed Avery how he should have handled the situation. How Cabalco wanted him to handle it.

He learned that he did what he did because of the way he felt about himself, and how he had to cleanse that self. The activities of the group would help. Morning exercise would purge the body. Group sessions would cull out the weakness in people, capture it like moth, and crush it. And the other activities would take the emptiness that remained, and fill it with things that would create a better person. And it didn't sound too bad to Avery.

When it was done, Christy said to him, "Let me give you one last word of reassurance. Because I still sense some doubt in you." She put her hand on his shoulder, looking like she was prepping for another hug. "I'm glad that you've come here with some strong convictions. They're the strongest I've ever seen, in fact. But eventually, you will learn the 'word', and the 'word' is strong."

To the class she said, "Let's move on." This was the signal that class had ended.

Everyone rose, and brushed out the wrinkles in their robes. Christy congratulated everyone. Others murmured their thanks, but Avery was feeling too tired and hungry. Other people were walking about too, and disappearing into the cross-traffic. Avery followed after Jason and Fred, but stopped after a few feet out the doorway, wondering where he was supposed to go next.

"Avery, over here," Cotton called out. He was leaning against the wall, grinning like his best friend. Avery walked over to meet him, hoping his sunny disposition would reenergize him.

"Well, I'm willing to bet you had a good experience in there?" Cotton asked.

Avery paused before answering. "It was... enlightening." And inside he was asking, why do I feel so bad about myself? "Are all the meetings like this?"

"You probably feel a little guilty right now. Maybe even light-headed?"

Avery nodded.

"That's perfectly normal. Everyone gets that, even me. That's the old morality." He pointed to Avery's brain. "From the old world. This is a new world. At least, we're trying to make it one. You'll feel better in no time once you absorb our philosophy. The group sessions are all taught in the same manner, but they cover different topics. Did you feel like today was all about you?"

"Yeah."

"That's because you're new. Once you're indoctrinated, you'll feel like their equal. Do you feel how your shoulders and arms got very warm, just now?"

"Uh," Avery performed a mental diagnostic on his arms, and, maybe, they felt a bit warm. "A little."

"Those are the sins lifting from you. Whenever you feel a little guilty, just check your arms, see if they feel that tingling warm sensation. Then you know you're doing right. Come on, let's go to your next activity." He started walking down the hall, deeper into the complex.