Halfway: Aspiration for Deliverance, #1

By Lokesh Sharma and Anubhav Sharma

A few hundred people wake up in an auditorium with no memory of their past, scared and confused, struggling to remember who they are and how they got here. A voice draws their attention to the person standing on the podium, impeccably dressed, an air of calm confidence about him that suggests he has the answers to all their questions. As he starts explaining the situation, they slowly begin to realize they are in a futuristic realm called Enigma, where dead humans are reborn and brought to trials for the crimes they committed in their human-lives…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lokesh Sharma
• Release date: Jan 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386778202

Lokesh Sharma

Lokesh Sharma grew up reading books and watching movies—a little too much for his parents’ taste. He spent his childhood in a small town about 150 Kms from New Delhi. Having finished his studies, he moved to The Heart of India in 2010. In New Delhi, he worked for a reputed American-based Bank for about three years, until he came up with the idea for his debut novel and decided to put it into words. Aside from lots of reading and a little bit of writing, he likes travelling, shopping, and listening to music. Anubhav Sharma is an entrepreneur in the IT Industry. He lives in New Delhi, India. Halfway is his debut novel. He is a sci-fi movie fanatic (2001: A Space Odyssey being his most favorite) who also loves playing Call of Duty. You can write to them at: [e-mail]

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Aspiration for Deliverance

Book One

HALFWAY

LOKESH SHARMA

ANUBHAV SHARMA

Copyright © 2017 Lokesh Sharma & Anubhav Sharma

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means—except in case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews—without written permission from its authors.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the authors.

All rights reserved.

PROLOGUE

Enigma

Random images and sounds flashing through Abraham’s mind…

Why do superheroes wear capes? His brother’s voice.

To show how cape-able they are? His own childhood voice.

An image of Linda’s smiling face. I am the luckiest person in the world to have you as my life partner.

Wake up Abraham! You’re gonna be late for school, again! Abraham’s mother’s voice.

Please press one for English. A feminine automated voice.

A blurry image of a slim lady walking away. Abraham couldn’t recognize her…

An assortment of his memories and stuff conjured up by his subconscious—the only part of him that was still unfettered.

You’re surrounded. There’s nowhere to run. Put down your weapon and step out into the open with your hands in the air. A voice emerging from a megaphone.

GUNSHOTS…

Abraham woke up, gasping, and looked about in wild despair to realize that his heavily built body was hanging in midair in the centre of a gloomy, spherical chamber about twenty feet in diameter. He was clad in black skin-tight outfit that resembled a wetsuit. Patches of some mysterious fabric that repelled the inner-walls of the chamber, keeping him at the centre, were riveted across his chest area, back, legs, arms, and shoulders. On his left wrist was a bracelet, glowing green in the semidarkness like radium.

Abraham had been in this cell for about a month now, since the day he was arrested for breaking The Chain of Continuity, which was deemed one of the biggest crimes a person could commit in Enigma.

This detention center was one of the most heavily guarded places on the planet, and Abraham knew that his odds of being able to break out of here were minus one in a million. He would only get out once they had decided a suitable punishment for him, a punishment that would make the time he spent in this chamber look like a holiday in Elysium.

Clunk! Crunch!

The sound of metal crunching was followed by a strong magnetic pull from his left that sent him tumbling into the wall.

Thump!

The impact knocked the breath out of him, making him groan as a rush of pain shot through his back, although it still hurt nowhere near as much as it had when happened the first time. He was slowly growing accustomed to being taken out of this chamber three times a day—for breakfast, lunch, and dinner—in the very same manner.

But is it time already?

Please set your feet in the footholds, and put your arms through the armholes. The feminine automated voice had an air of authority to it.

Mmmmhhhh. Abraham rolled over to face the wall, his body feeling really heavy. Carefully placing his feet in the footholds carved into the wall, he slipped his arms through the armholes. He heard faint clicking sounds as his hands were handcuffed on the other side.

The magnetic pull relented. Slices of the wall Abraham was now facing began to slide, making a jagged hole, chest-high, that began to grow in size…bigger and bigger, until it was an opening wide enough for two people walking abreast to pass through.

Beyond the opening was a wide corridor, brightly lit by white embedded light-strips that ran along the four corners, with matte grey walls. Abraham stood at the threshold, looking at a giant, lazy eyed guard, who wore a black cybersuit with a single watchful eye emblazoned on the breast. The guard’s head was the only part of his body that was visible (uncovered). He jerked his head in a ‘follow me’ gesture and began to walk. Abraham followed.

They walked in silence, Abraham looking at the walls on their either side with a puzzled look on his face. Beyond those walls were more chambers, holding other inmates. But why are they still inside? According to the routine, they all walked from there to the cafeteria in a queue every day, but today he was alone!

Abraham looked at the guard, confused. He had barely opened his mouth to say something when the guard turned right instead of going straight, giving Abraham the answer to his question without uttering a single word.

Abraham wasn’t being taken to the cafeteria, which meant… Finally, it’s time. Abraham took a long breath, nervousness crawling under his skin, his lips moving, rehearsing what he was going say to the officers when they asked him the reason he committed the crime.

The guard led him through a maze of corridors, turning right and left several times. They stopped in front of a large hexagonal door. Abraham watched as the guard stood in front of the retinal scanner to let the machine verify his identity.

The door hissed open, and a faint embedded ceiling light inside this new chamber, which was almost as big as the one from where the guard had brought him, sprang to life.

With a wave of his hand, the guard gestured Abraham to go inside. As Abraham stepped into the chamber, the hexagonal door hissing shut behind him, he noticed a number of electronic devices affixed to the walls, wires snaking up and down, tiny lights blinking. A workstation sat in the centre of the chamber, an ergonomic computer chair (upholstered in black leather-like fabric) with a curved screen hanging in front of it.

Abraham sank into the chair, his eyes drifting across the logo of Xziom Corporation displaying on the screen, a text blinking at the bottom right corner: Touch here to join the session.

Abraham touched the blinking text.

Display on the screen transmuted into a blurry live-stream, just enough clear so Abraham could faintly discern the shape of four people sitting beyond what looked like a desk, another text blinking at the bottom right corner: Link your bracelet to the device, then touch here to go Immersed.

A length of cable about eight inches long was dangling from the left armrest of the chair he was sitting in, a male connector at its free end. Abraham inserted the connector into the female port on his bracelet, then touched the blinking text.

A beam of green light swept across the room, transforming the view as it passed.

Abraham found himself sitting across from those officers he had seen on the screen a moment ago, a female and three male officers, all of them impeccably dressed in black formals. Even though they all looked well nigh real, Abraham knew they were merely images, just like this room was, projected into his brain (which was the reason they looked so real) by IVD—the device to which Abraham’s bracelet was connected.

"Mister Hicks," the old male said in a calm voice, his elbows resting on the armrests of the chair in which he was sitting, his fingers forming a steeple. Abraham recognized this person. What was his name? ...Ah! Kamal, it was. I presume you know why you are here.

I guess, Abraham replied in a careless tone.

Care to explain why you did it?

A bitter smile stretched across Abraham’s lips. There was a time when he would have cared to answer their questions, expecting them to listen to him and empathize. Expecting them to see the injustice done to him and take action. Or at least try to…

But they didn’t listen to him then, and they certainly weren’t going to listen to him now. Because they didn’t see him as a person. In their eyes, he was just another case. Yes, they wanted him to answer their questions, but even if he did so, they simply wouldn’t give a shit and move on to the next case, just like they did the last time.

Abraham closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose, his teeth gritted. "I don’t really want to, but I don’t think I have a choice, do I? His eyes opened. Looking into the old man’s eyes, he said, Well, I did it because I…felt like doing it?"

You killed two humans because you felt like doing it? Kamal scoffed in disgust. Sounds like a serial killer’s way of explaining things.

Abraham shrugged. "Maybe I am one."

Kamal opened his mouth to say something, but Matthew King, a lean male who just a moment ago was sitting with his lips pursed, cut in, I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation here.

Maybe because you kept me suspended in that chamber for too long, Abraham jested.

Ignoring Abraham’s comment, Matthew said, You have no idea how big a trouble you are in. We are trying to help you.

Did I ask for your fucking help? Abraham growled, looking Matthew in the eye. Did I?

Mind your language, Mister Hicks, spoke Lisa, a beautiful female with long blue hair. You can’t—

Don’t you dare tell me what I can and what I can’t! Abraham snapped. If you can play with people’s lives like this, I can do whatever the fuck I want, you understand me? Lisa’s eyes were wide open in shock. All officers seemed too stunned to say anything. Abraham continued, The last time I was here, I kept screaming that I was no drug dealer, that my wife and the drug dealer she was sleeping with framed me to get me out of their way. Did you listen to me then? No! And now, all of sudden, you want to fucking help me? I don’t need your help. Looking into Lisa’s eyes, If you really want to do something for me, give me a blow-job instead, he said.

Enough! growled Lisa, getting to her feet, her face contorted in anger. She slammed her palm on the table-top, making it rattle.

Already? Abraham chuckled. You haven’t even started yet, sweetheart.

Mister Abraham Hicks, Lisa said through gritted teeth. Depriving you of your right to contest the charges brought against you, we, the members of The Department of Justice, declare you guilty of murdering two humans and condemn you to Hell in perpetuity… Lisa continued to speak, but Abraham wasn’t listening to her. He was laughing hysterically like a crazy person, as though Lisa had just told a joke that only he understood.

You are crazy, you fucking bitch…every one of you, Abraham managed to say through his laughter, wagging his finger at them. Every single one… He continued to laugh, even as the door hissed open, the guard rushed in, and dragged him out of the chamber.

CHAPTER 1

The Amphitheatre

Inky darkness was the only thing to be seen, silence the only thing to be heard, making fear the only thing one could feel. There was no other feeling a place like this could have evoked, a place where even your memories abandoned you, leaving you utterly alone to confront the premonition, which was inevitable and seemed to be hanging in the air all around them.

Darkness and silence remained there a while, until the embedded ceiling-lights installed along the periphery of the circular-ceiling lit up, hurting their eyes of brightness for a moment before bringing the view around them into being. A beautiful interior of an indoor-amphitheatre sketched itself into their eyes; shadow black walls and ceiling; red carpet on the floor; hundreds of seats, upholstered in red velvet, beautifully arranged in concentric circles around a large circular dais. All of them were occupied by people with bald heads and big gleaming eyes, no eyebrows. Their rubber-like passive-grey skin appeared too smooth to be real. They were all clad in black jumpsuits. All of them had the same expression on their faces, an expression of confusion mingled with apprehension.

What place is this?

How did I get here?

Who am I?

Small dust devils of questions in their minds melding together, slowly taking form of a tornado, until a voice distracted them.

Welcome to Enigma, the voice said.

It belonged to a person with sharp features and army green eyes—large display screens suspended overhead in mid-air were now showing a close-up of his face—who wore a black peculiarly designed double-breasted coat over a white shirt. His long black hair was slicked back, his eyes sweeping left and right, back and forth, sensing, observing, waiting for everyone to collect their wits. His hands clasped in front of him.

Confused? Worried? Don’t be, said the mysterious person standing on the dais. I know you have questions in your mind, which is exactly why I’m here: to answer them. His lips curled into a smile, but that smile did little to put their minds at ease. He was a stranger. Trusting him was too big a risk, which meant asking him questions was out of question.

A masculine voice pulled a young male, who looked to be in his twenties, out of his sleep. He adjusted himself in his chair, looking around in confusion. What place is this? How did I get here? Wasn’t I… Wait a minute! Where was I before I got here? It looked like some sort of amphitheatre, and he was sitting in the outermost row of seats that encircled a large stage. Standing on the stage was a tall, lean figure clad in black suit. Do I know him? I don’t think so. It wasn’t long before he realized he didn’t even remember who he himself was. Who am I?

There can only be one possible explanation for what’s happening. It has to be a dream. I’m asleep. But was it even possible to forget your own identity in a dream?

Something wasn’t adding up.

A circular disk-type table was attached to the armrest of the seat in which he was sitting, a white stretchable bracelet placed atop it.

The-male-in-his-twenties looked around and saw similar bracelets placed on the tables attached to the other seats, which were occupied by hundreds of anxious-looking people.

What are these for? he thought, looking at the bracelet.

As if in reply to his thought, the person standing on the stage spoke, There are bracelets placed on the tables in front of you. I request you to please put them on your left wrist. Confidence in his voice manifested he knew and could probably help the people sitting in the amphitheatre understand what was going on…if