XXXVIII
“Where are you taking me?”
As hard as she tried, she couldn’t shake off the two orderlies who held her by each arm and marched her along the corridor. She was restrained in a straitjacket and her legs were shackled. Every step began as a push and prod from the bullies at her side, and with every rattle of the chains, her thoughts screamed and echoed of captivity.
“Look, I know I wasn’t supposed to be here or nothin’, I just, if you could let me go, I won’t come back, and I won’t tell nobody about what you did?”
“What I did?” asked The Doctor.
“To those people.”
“You mean those people that were saved? The very same people who are no longer at the mercy and whim of unconscionable suffering? Those people?”
The Yong Cripple was shoved onto a chair. The two orderlies stood staunchly beside her, keeping a firm hand on each of her shoulders. In front of her, The Doctor took his seat. He had a host of cards and papers sprawled out on the table and behind him, there was a picture of an ant, trapped inside a single drop of water. In the far corner of the room, there was a bed with arm and leg straps resting on the floor, and there was a cage beside it that was built into one of the walls. And inside the cage were a dozen or so people, and a handful of domestic pets. There was also a small pony that was wedged into one of the corners.
“They were scared of you; of this place,” said The Young Cripple.
“Of Heaven? There is nothing to fear of Heaven, for there is no fear in Heaven.”
“They looked pretty scared to me.”
“And when they were cured, how did they appear to you? Were they scared? Were they desperate and overwhelmed?”
“No,” said The Young Cripple, now looking into the cage at a small child who was patting a brown bunny rabbit.
“So they were better?”
“No. I don’t know what they were, but they were definitely not better.”
“You would choose screaming over silence then?”
“No, I didn’t say that.”
“Then what? Your opinion is conflicted. It is a contrary opinion, and entirely without affirmation. Do you only believe in disbelieving?”
“There’s a difference between silence and being deaf.”
“Semantics. Fear travels at the speed of Light. It travels in Light, as a constant. And from soul to soul, it spreads instantaneously. Its reach is immeasurable. And the true extent of its potential to cause harm is untold. But you have seen, we all have, in the worlds that we have come from. It was fear that tore each one apart. It was fear that manifested in the necessitous evolution of existence, which drove each being to the brink of madness. It was fear that built fences and borders, and inspired wars - internal and external; be it political, theological or existential. It was fear that solicited compassion, and had every being silently wishing for tragedy and torment, so as to be rewarded with the warmth of empathy. It was fear that was guised as the virtues of kindness and solidarity. But the dividend on which it paid was not nearly as enriching as was the inevitable toll. It was fear that brought about the extinction of every world that ever came into being. If you look out into the omniverse, it is fear which oscillates and now inhabits the bleak emptiness of time and space. One is not deaf if the only sound that can be heard is unneeded suffering.”
“Why the needle?”
“How else are we to extract a being’s Light?”
“You take their Light?” said the girl, shocked.
“We keep their Light,” said The Doctor, correcting the girl. “We keep it safe. Think of it like an inheritance that for the moment might certainly be misspent, and cannot afford for Heaven to end up like every other world. This paradise is our salvation from fear. And for beings like us, Ward Number Five is home.”
“How many wards are there?”
“There is one for every dimension.”
“How many dimensions are there?”
“That is uncountable. For our dimension, there are ten others. But each dimension requires a great deal more to equate itself. And each of those, a great deal more. There is a ward in Heaven for each dimension. Here, in this one finite space, infinity is maintained as one equanimous singularity.”
“Will you take my Light too?”
“Your Light is either infected or it is not yet. Both states are perilous. It is not safe for you to be with it. It’s better that it be kept somewhere that fear cannot inundate it.”
“Will it hurt?”
“The process itself is almost excruciating. You’ll feel a little prick, maybe a sharp shock in your teeth, but it will pass. Your fear will present itself as it is being drawn. This is to be expected. It will dress itself as courage and defiance, but don’t be fooled into thinking it is you that is feeling this way. I will be quick, though, and once your Light is extracted, you will feel nothing. Try to think of that - the quiet and empty space.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Even if you had, it wouldn’t be you making it.”
The Young Cripple struggled and shook, desperately trying to break free, but there was nothing she could do. The orderlies dug their fingers into her nerves and she screamed as her body collapsed uselessly into her seat.
”Put her on the bed,” ordered The Doctor. “Full straps.”
The Young Cripple screamed even louder, at a height and pitch that she never knew was possible. It felt like the tip of a knife, and it sounded like shattering glass.
“You can’t do this,” she screamed. “Please don’t do this!”
“Do you hear yourself? This is your fear speaking,” said The Doctor, approaching the girl with an elephantine syringe.