Jakob just stood there covered in a chemical soup, starring up at the throng of hooded men surrounding the pit he now found himself in. To a man they were howling, calling for his incineration, and frustration that the igniters had failed to ignite the liquid as it was sprayed all over him. Whatever it was, it stung his eyes, and dug into every crevice of his body. The Van Saar body glove that was designed to protect him from such exposures was shredded by his captors and barely covered any part of his body.
“Blasphemer!”, “Heretic!”, “Burn him!” were all heard from the men on the walkway above. Finally, a man with robes and a hood covered in crimson flames, silently raised his hands. He patiently waited as the mob fell silent.
“My righteous companions!” he shouted as he looked around to make sure he had their complete attention. “For reasons unknown to me at this time, the Almighty Emperor has decided to spare this poor soul. Perhaps he is worthy of redemption!” Immediately the crowd called for another attempt at the pouring forth of the cleansing flame. The leader raised his hands once again, calling for their silence.
“Who here would dare question the Emperor’s will? I will go and meditate upon this turn of events, but rest assured, this man will either be redeemed, or he will be purged of his evil ways with the cleansing flames of the undying Emperor!” With that the crowd erupted in raucous approval.
Slowly the crowd began to disperse. The whole time the flame covered man just stood staring down at him. Jakob could almost feel the hatred and contempt from his shrouded eyes. Finally he was left alone in the pit, still covered head to toe in the chemicals that had been intended to incinerate him. In their frenzy and frustration of trying to purge him, the zealous Cawdor had left the nozzles on longer than usual, and he now stood calf deep in whatever it was. Apparently there was no drain to take the slop away.
It wasn’t until he was alone that the adrenaline that had kept him going for the past few hours finally failed him. His knees buckled and he fell down on all fours. As his hands and knees impacted the chemical pool it splashed up filling his mouth and nostrils, and covering his torso once more. He was suddenly so exhausted he didn’t bother to try and clear his mouth or face and just hung his head there, using what little strength that was left in his limbs to keep himself from falling over and thus submerging himself further in the goop. The chemicals were thick and dripping slowly off his body and out of his mouth and nose. He just did not have the strength to do anything about it.
“A fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into Jake”, he said to himself. “Mother always said you lived a charmed life. What’s wrong Jake… not feeling so charmed right now? You’re less then two weeks out of the house and you’ve ended up in the hands of the Cawdor who would like nothing more than to roast you alive. Well, at least whatever this mess is, it isn’t flammable. Wonder how much time this little development’s bought you.”
Jakob shifted his weight so that he could sit with his back against the wall. Although the sickly sweet stench from the chemical pool was overpowering he had to find a way to rest before his arms gave out and he found his face submerged in it. With a heavy sigh he looked around at his surroundings. The walls were smooth sheets of plas-steel, four meters high, by two meters wide, and lined with a walkway at the top. He resigned himself to the fact that he just didn’t have the strength to attempt such a leap. Besides, it was not like he was used to exerting himself even before this little ‘journey’. The nozzles that had sprayed him down were recessed in each of the four corners, and small enough that it was not possible to use as a way to climb up. Almost imperceptibly he noticed that the scraps of his body glove had changed to an emerald green. Indicating that the chemical slop he was sitting in was a minor neurotoxin. Nothing he could do about that right now.
“The next time I hear that still small voice telling me to wander down hive I really need to have my head examined… if there is a next time,” he said glumly to himself. “Still… I was so sure that I would find something... proof that the Emperor was just a man, that the Machine Spirit is a fallacy. Even better, something to confirm what he was hearing was real and that he was really not delusional. Perhaps I shouldn’t have told my family.”
A smirk actually came across his face along with that last thought. The Van Saar were nothing if not devout in their belief of the Machine Spirit. The Emperor played second to the Machine Spirit, perhaps not in lip service, but most definitely in practice. When he had shared this new found revelation with his older brothers and sisters they turned pale and had looked around to see if anyone had overheard the conversation. Then they and had tried to convince him that he was delusional. When they failed to convinced him to come around to their point of view they had subjected him to a severe beating. Not enough to cause any kind of permanent injury of course, but they had gotten their point across. The reception was even worse when he told the same story to his father. His father sent him off to a private apprentice shop, one that specialized in the guidance of young minds in the ways of the Machine Spirit.
“Go, teach and train others… take nothing with you…, the voice said to me. How can I be sure that I don’t just have some kind personality disorder? Just who… or what… is ‘Ijam’ anyway?”
He had searched the family’s archives for any kind of reference to ‘Ijam’ and found nothing, so he arranged to gain access to the House Van Saar resources. Still the information eluded him. When those resources had been exhausted, at the cost of several disciplinary actions for not reporting to his duties at the factory on time, he began to search any external resource he could get access to. While Hive City’s libraries were not as expansive as those of the Spire Houses, it had taken him several long months to work through it. By then he had learned to keep his mouth shut about his new found beliefs. Then an idea came to mind, what about the “Underhive”? There was no way he was going to be able to gain access to the Spire, so there was just no where else to go. Suddenly he felt compelled to go in search for some lost archeotech that would show him what he was looking for. Surely somewhere in the bowels of Hive-Primus he would find what he was looking for. When he approached his father about his intentions he was scoffed at. But when his father realized how determined Jakob was he reluctantly allowed him to go. The only caveats were – he was to go alone, he could not expect any support from the family once he descended below, and that when he returned he was to put all of this foolishness behind him and settle into his rightful place.
“You didn’t have it so bad. A job in management, no sweating it out on an assembly line, a decent place to live, and paid security guards and servants. What did your father call it? ‘Wanderlust’? Why did I ever leave? What did I hope to find? They’d all cling to their precious superstitions; even if I found evidence of this… ‘Ijam’. Bah! I was a fool.”
As he sat there the fumes slowly overcame him and he passed out.
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