The Soul Monger

by Matilda Scotney

  Chapter 12

  Alone in The Vanguard, Harry gazed out across the nebula, pondering Canon Akkuh’s sudden departure from the conference. Harry supposed he had his reasons. Odd behaviour though for the Canon. And that defensive attitude with Xavier? Most peculiar.

  Harry didn’t allow his thoughts to dwell too much on Canon Akkuh and his eccentricities; he preferred to think on the highly satisfying outcome of the conference with the whole souls. Undeniably, the whole souls’ agreement to help filled him with relief; perhaps the act of bringing them here might eventually work to their mutual advantage. If the League should win the war, no, when the League won, a wonderful new life awaited the whole souls. He’d make sure they’d want for nothing and receive compensation, as far as possible for their sacrifice. Harry admitted to himself; he didn’t know just how much that sacrifice was worth, but now, there was training to arrange; physical fitness, weaponry, piloting, but he didn’t doubt they were up to the challenge.

  Strange, he mused, in a more relaxed humour now he’d gained the whole souls’ assistance, Laurel spoke of colours in the nebula. He drew up a chair and considered the nebula through the viewport. Yes, impressive, a barrier in space even from this distance, but colours? A few bright areas maybe, the presence of nitrogen might flare up blue or red but nothing else. If the whole souls could genuinely see into the nebula, this war may be as good as won.

  Harry chose not to let his new soldiers spend too much time thinking for fear it might have a negative impact. Members of the Congress were arriving soon, eager to meet their new recruits, but he was keen to get them started on their training. He arranged for assessment and instruction in gymnasium-based exercise later that day.

  Despite Xavier’s new younger physique, he was still considerably older than the others, and as his assignment wouldn’t be as physically demanding, he was exempted from many of the exercises. As Harry watched, he hid his disappointment as the other whole souls, apart from Marta, struggled even with light gym work, but managed a grin as he caught Laurel’s eye, who in turn, grimaced at him to show she wasn’t having fun.

  Not one of the instructors spoke their language, but they exhibited no difficulty in communicating their requirements with clear demonstrations, accompanied by the appropriate one-word description, enough that by the end of the session, each of the participants understood a few words and their meaning, owing to the repetition.

  “What the hell is this language again? Harry told me, but I forgot,” Helen said to Marta, mopping the sweat from her face with a damp cloth.

  “Seera,” the trainer answered as she threw each of them a towel. “I don’t know why you have separate languages on just one world.”

  Helen caught her towel and gestured at the woman. “After all that, you speak English?”

  The trainer simply smiled and gave Helen a “well done” pat on the arm.

  “She did just speak to us in English, didn’t she?” Helen looked down at her arm as if expecting to find an answer there. Laurel and Marta exchanged mystified looks. It seemed the trainer had indeed spoken English.

  Harry visited later and ate supper with them. Helen, still considering the instructor who spoke English, asked him about accents and language and why to her, he sounded Russian.

  “I rarely speak English, Helen,” he said. “Only when I visit my father, who refuses to speak Seera, the language of the League. You speak English, but your accents are distinct, and not just in pitch or inflection.”

  “I have an American accent,” Laurel said.

  Helen pulled a face, “I haven’t got an accent at all.”

  “Really, Helen?” Laurel laughed. “You sound so Australian it’s not true. Chloe’s the only English-born person here, and her accent is very distinctive.”

  “I can understand Afrikaans as well as English,” Eli said. “My brother and me, we always spoke English, my accent is common where I come from.”

  Laurel would have loved to delve into the subject of Eli’s past, but Helen was on a mission on the matter of syntax, after taking a moment to ponder Laurel’s revelation about her accent.

  “I said to the girls earlier,” Helen went on, “what are the odds of ending up in another galaxy, where people conveniently speak English?”

  “There have been a few studies of whole souls as they relate to slavery,” Harry said. “The Soul Mongers never gave up any of their secrets. Once sold, a slave was forbidden to use their language and forced only to use the language of his or her master; any child born learned the language of the master. Inevitably, languages became lost.”

  “There were escaped slaves though?” Xavier said.

  “We were short-sighted,” Harry made a helpless gesture with his hands. “We didn’t understand or acknowledge the whole soul slaves’ culture, so they learned Seera, although the League had no laws barring them from using their language. There were so few of them, and the League is vast; meeting someone with whom to converse wasn’t likely. We didn’t think to record or preserve their languages; there are fragments in databases but not enough to learn from. Since the banning of slavery, there have only been a few hundred refugees.” A sudden, unwelcome image of Darlen in the landing bay came to Harry; when Darlen told him, the whole souls chose him, and not the other way around. If that was the way of it in the past, why would whole souls choose to become slaves?

  “What happened to children?” Helen looked discretely at Chloe. “Once they arrived here?”

  “Only adults are transported across the Transcender…” Harry began.

  At that, Helen pointed to Chloe.

  “Chloe is no longer a child as far as we are concerned,” Harry acknowledged he understood the cultural differences. “Traditionally, female slaves are impregnated by the Soul Monger before the sale, they can still sell a non-pregnant female, but if she fails to conceive in a given amount of time, she’s returned to the Soul Monger for disposal.”

  The idea of Darlen crawling over her body made Laurel shudder. Surely not? Marta darted her a glance, thinking the same thing, but Xavier was more concerned with Harry’s last word.

  “Disposal?” he asked.

  “Sorry, inappropriate choice of words,” Harry held up his hands. “It didn’t mean disposing of her; it means her level of use was lower. A slave’s master used the child for intimidation, for coercion. The whole soul mother had to obey her master to protect her child from suffering. If she did as her master said, she could take care of the child. Any infraction had drastic consequences. I promise you, the woman obeyed. If there was no child, thereby no means of coercion, the woman was made to suffer if she didn’t follow the rules. A few refused to comply and became slaves of other kinds; masters could be very creative if they got little return on their investment. Whole soul slaves without a child needed to be controlled. They still use the coercion method, so-called loyalty leverage for half-soul and quarter-soul slaves, which I regret to report, are still found in the independent systems.”

  “What about male slaves?”

  “Similar, Chloe. Each male is isolated and given a half or quarter-soul female; if a child resulted, and it often did, the woman was paid off, discharged and the child delivered to the man. A whole soul male has the same protective instinct as women; the need to protect their offspring. We all have that instinct. It’s natural.”

  “If there’s been no slavery for so long,” Laurel asked. “How come your father is from Earth?”

  “As I said in the med bay,” Harry responded with a lift of his shoulders. “I believe he was brought across in error. He was rather elderly even then, but we were rescued.”

  “You have an underground railroad?” Laurel said, surprised.

  Harry didn’t understand, “An underground railroad?”

  “The Southern States of America used to have slaves. If any escaped, abolitionists transported them to the North.”

  “It sounds the same,” Harry saw the similarity. “My father stole a ship which he couldn’t p
ilot, and it crashed. Mountain people picked us up and sold us to a Soul Monger; except that Soul Monger was like your abolitionists, and he delivered my father and me to the League.”

  “Hats off to him.”

  “Yes, apart from my father, you’re the only whole souls now,” Harry took them all in with one look. “None have been taken from your world in decades. Only Darlen knows how to get there and how to preserve you through the Transcender.”

  “And the children of whole souls?”

  “Whole souls cannot reproduce with other whole souls, only with half or quarter-souls,” Harry said. “Their children are half-souls, but in captivity, they’re still slaves,” he pointed to himself, “unless they’re rescued.”

  “How do you know they’re half-souls?” Marta asked Harry the same question Laurel asked before.

  Harry gave his answer a moment’s thought, he didn’t want to confound them with the somewhat complex rules of his society, but they also needed some background. He took a deep breath; no doubt Helen would chime in with a question if it all got beyond her.

  “If a half-soul was to masquerade as a quarter-soul, we couldn’t tell the difference,” he began. “The unique skeletal framework of a whole soul has never been found in any of their half-soul offspring. And none of their attributes, empathy, telepathy, speed, has ever been reported in quarter and half-souls. In interplanetary culture, quarter-souls are determined by genealogy and personality. They live simple lives, but not just the simplicity of someone who chooses to live a humble way of life; they are unique, creative, spiritual and very much in harmony with their surroundings—their environment. Half-souls have their roots in violence, aggression, conquering and cruelty, but we have evolved to overcome those basic impulses, we tend now towards commerce, preservation, industry; but again, our lineage identifies us.”

  “Our world has plenty of that,” Helen said. “Violence, aggression.”

  “Truly?” This insight intrigued Harry and he leaned forward, wishing to learn more.

  “Yes, it’s a pretty crazy place.”

  “I had no idea. I knew you had wars in the past. How did you endure it?”

  “Most of us switch off,” Laurel answered. “We follow the news, see it on social media, that this country is doing this, and this faction is doing that, then we make a cup of tea and quit watching in the hope it won’t affect us.”

  “And does it ever affect you?”

  “I got robbed once coming home from work,” Helen said. “I lost two teeth and broke my wrist whacking the bloke on the head,” she added, acting out the last part.

  Harry struggled to accept the notion of a world where a woman would be attacked, merely walking home. “I don’t understand how you accepted such mayhem in society. Why didn’t you exclude those that caused it?”

  “Exclude them?” Xavier laughed, “and put them where? We’re just one planet, Harry. We’re not the League. No-one liked the goings on, not decent folk anyway. Eli? Were you OK with the way you lived?”

  “Came from necessity,” Eli said. Eli didn’t choose his former life, but he had made of it what he could, rightly or wrongly. “No food, no shelter. Hunger, oppression. Makes a man desperate.”

  “That’s what a lot of people who commit crimes say, that it wasn’t their fault,” Helen still had a way to go before she trusted Eli fully, but she was getting there.

  But Harry wasn’t going to buy into a discussion about individual fault and blame. “So, your world didn’t address issues such as poverty and abandonment?”

  “To an extent. But many gave up trying to save the world. We lost our empathy,” Laurel smiled, “despite what you say.”

  “Empathy is central to whole souls,” Harry said. “Perhaps it retreated in the face of societal issues, and you grew to tolerate the disorder as the rule?”

  “If so,” Laurel countered, “how are we going to help you; if we’re faced with a violent situation, aren’t we just going to revert to type?”

  “I don’t think so, Laurel,” Xavier cut in, “you have a connection to this place.”

  “Do you mean the ship?” Marta leaned forward, asking for herself as well.

  “No,” Laurel pointed to the window, “out there.”

  Marta’s expression became serious, and she sat back without another word.

  “I’m afraid the jury is still out for me on the empath thing,” Helen added, still unconvinced and stubbornly ignoring her earlier sensation when the room fell silent; when her chest and brain felt full and ready to burst.

  “I used to predict what was going to be on the television before it was published in the paper,” Chloe said. “I googled premonitions once and decided it was a useless skill in my case.”

  “But it shows that the skill exists within you,” Harry stood and smiled. “Now, enough. Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow. I think you’ll enjoy what we’ve got planned,” then added mysteriously. “Especially you, Eli.”

  After Harry left, Chloe sat beside Laurel.

  “Apart from Xavier, you’re the only one who’s shown this empathy.”

  “You felt the shift in this room earlier, Chloe,” Laurel said, “we all did, maybe we just need to develop it. Perhaps we should have asked Harry how we do that.”

  “I don’t know that they can teach us,” Chloe said wisely, “but I bet that’s why we’re kept together, so we learn to sense each other.”

  “Herd mentality,” Helen suggested.

  “Yes, but we can move beyond that. I’ve been sensitive most of my life,” Xavier smiled at Chloe, “even the useless skill of predicting TV shows.”

  “Years ago,” Eli said, “when I was a kid, we learned to run. I’ve been on the streets since I was five years old, people rounded us up, took us places, bad places, but I could run very fast and sometimes, I willed myself to run for kilometres without running out of breath.”

  “That’s an incredible skill, Eli,” Chloe was most impressed.

  “What is your background, Eli?” Helen asked the question that intrigued Laurel.

  “No background. I was born, run like the wind from you people and my people, went to prison and now, here.”

  “How old are you?” Laurel ventured.

  “19, I think, but I’m not sure.”

  “Did you go to school?”

  “No, my brother taught me to read and write and do sums, but then he got shot.”

  “I didn’t realise things like that were going on in South Africa now,” Laurel said as they assembled into a little group around Eli’s couch.

  “For some of us,” Eli’s voice held meaning, “things don’t change.”

  “Did you have a sense of what might happen to your family, Chloe?” Marta asked.

  “No, my mother did. I once overheard her mention she thought she would die before she was forty. I got upset, and she said she was only joking. I didn’t think it was funny.”

  “It’s not funny,” Helen agreed, “but she may have been an empath, saw it coming.”

  “She was nice. She didn’t mean it,” Chloe’s smile was sad.

  “Any ideas on how long we were asleep on Darlen’s ship?” Marta said, neatly changing the subject.

  They all murmured with “no idea” and “haven’t got a clue”. None of them owned up to homesickness either, even if they felt it.

  “I left nobody behind, so it don’t matter where I am,” Eli said, shrugging.

  And the truth was, not one of them left anyone behind. But now, they at least had each other.

  Chapter 13

  The next day, the whole souls glumly expected another gruelling gym session. Instead, Asde took them to the landing bay where they first arrived. Harry stood with several of the trainers from the previous day and on recognising them, Helen groaned.

  “Harry, I’m buggered!” she announced. “I hope they haven’t got anything like yesterday planned. I couldn’t knock the skin off a rice pudding!”

  Harry checked his memory for a transla
tion. No, this was a new one on him.

  “It’s a saying, Harry,” Chloe stepped in. “It means she feels weak.”

  “I worked in a hardware store. I was fit enough for…”

  “It’s fine, Helen,” Harry cut in before Helen gave them another rundown of her career. “We appreciate your commitment. This morning’s training involves piloting. Later you will receive instruction in armaments and ground combat; judging by your results yesterday…” he looked right at Laurel who realised she had done more than her fair share of puffing and panting, “…we will run those programs together with fitness; you did well, but there is room for improvement.”

  Harry turned his attention to the ships dotted around the landing bay. Once again, Laurel found it difficult to tear her eyes away from the nebula drifting outside the landing bay doors. So close; Laurel could practically touch it. She fancied herself twining the drifting threads of colour around her fingers, weaving circles until it cocooned her in all the shades of…

  “Laurel?” Harry interrupted her, recognising her distraction. “You are intrigued by the nebula, aren’t you? You’ll have time to study it one day if you wish, but for now, we have work to do.”

  Laurel nodded. “Sorry, Harry. It’s a bit distracting.”

  Harry gave her a long look before nodding and turning away, leading the group to where several small craft were lined up. “These are axispods,” he told them. “They respond to the neurotriconomic interface you received in the medical facility,” he held up his hand to remind them. “Years ago, someone called them spit rings, and the name stuck. All our ships, including the consular ship, are operated using the same methods. Once you learn to fly an axispod, you can fly any ship in the fleet. Only the weapons have specific configurations. No need for concern,” he glanced at Helen, “you’ll have an instructor with you.”