by J. N. Chaney
“They did,” he agreed. “Over three hundred mattresses, in fact, as well as tables, dressers, and enough kitchenware for two dozen restaurants.”
“That sounds like more than enough,” I said.
He frowned. “I’m afraid it doesn’t even cover half of what we need. There are nearly as many Eternals as there are Verdunians, which means we will—”
“What did you just call us? Verdunians?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Do you like it? I thought of it the other day.”
I cocked my brow. “Not sure that’d be my first choice, Professor.”
“Right this way, everyone!” called a voice from inside one of the nearby buildings. As the door opened, I spotted Freddie leading a group of Eternals into the street. “We need to get moving if we’re going to get everyone situated.”
Hitchens and I watched the crowd make their way to the other side of the street and into another building. “It seems young Frederick has finally processed his group,” observed Hitchens.
I had asked Leif, the de-facto leader of the Eternal refugees, to take down a list of his people’s previous job experience. Considering the fact that they’d spent most of their adult lives in a war of attrition against the Celestials, constantly on the run or in hiding, there seemed to be a lack of diversity in the area of education and experience. Not many had ever grown food, relying instead on automated machines to do the work for them, but we still found a few dozen volunteers willing to get their hands dirty.
Freddie’s group was mostly made up of ex-soldiers, so we decided to have them help out with cleaning. Like Billins’ team, they’d spend the next few weeks clearing out the city’s remaining buildings, giving us the space we needed for our new arrivals.
“With all the extra help, we should have Verdun in tip-top shape by the end of the month,” said Hitchens. “Don’t you think, Captain?”
“Let’s hope,” I said, watching the last of Freddie’s group enter the building.
At that moment, something caught the corner of my eye, causing me to turn towards the center of town, near the so-called “factory”—one of the largest buildings on the city platform. Dressler and Sigmond had determined that it served a few different purposes. For starters, it worked to create new atmosphere and generate an electromagnetic field around the planet. This was an essential part of the terraforming process, I’d been told, although it seemed to have slowed down its production shortly before we arrived. If that weren’t enough, the building housed its own fusion reactor, which we eventually hoped to tap into. Every single city had one of these, and they were always located in the same relative spot.
I noticed two familiar faces walking towards me from that direction. Karin Braid and Leif Solesdar, each of them smiling as we made eye contact.
“Looks like the new representative would like another word,” said Hitchens.
I grunted, already knowing what to expect from Leif before he even arrived. He’d been making the same request of me for two full days, and I didn’t expect this time to be any different.
“Captain!” called Leif, waving at me.
I nodded my return as the two of them arrived. “Something wrong, you two?”
“Mr. Solesdar would like to talk with you about the slip tunnel situation, Captain,” informed Karin.
“Is that right?” I asked.
Leif nodded. “I know I’ve already asked you before, but it is critical we proceed soon.”
“It is?” I asked, feigning surprise. “I hadn’t realized, Leif.”
He paused at my sarcasm, clearly confused. “I thought I had made its importance clear. Oh, perhaps the culture is different here. Should I be more direct with these matters?” He looked at Karin. “I’m not sure about the protocol for your people.”
Hitchens chuckled. “The Captain has an interesting sense of humor, Mr. Solesdar. I assure you, he understands the importance of your request.”
“T-truly?” asked Leif.
I touched my holster and leaned on my right side. “You’ve asked me how many times now? Too many to count, I’d imagine. Look, I’ve got my people working on clearing the debris from your space station. Shit’s gonna take me some time. Try to be patient, pal.”
“I-I understand,” he said, quickly.
“Relax, would ya?” I asked, taking a step forward, beside him. “Our boys should breach the wreckage by this afternoon. Siggy told me to expect results before sundown.”
There was a click in my ear. “Before that, actually, sir,” informed Sigmond. “I’m thrilled to say the drones are making superb progress.”
“Sundown,” I repeated, not bothering to mention Sigmond’s new timetable.
“That’s wonderful news!” he exclaimed.
“Sure is,” I agreed. “Don’t worry, Leif. Everything is going to work out.”
“Thank you, Captain,” said Leif. “I simply want everyone to be safe. As your people’s representative, I’m sure you understand. The Celestials are truly horrific, and they will stop at nothing to see us all dead.”
I paused at his statement, not knowing how to answer him. We’d had this talk several times by now, so I got it. He was afraid, and maybe he had every right to be if what he said about the Celestials was true. Fighting them wouldn’t be in anyone’s best interest. I agreed with that. We already had too many enemies, and I didn’t need another. Not right now, when we were still building a home and recovering. “Stay with Karin,” I told him, after a moment. “I’ll send her news once we’re ready. You can be there to observe with me when the team pulls the plug.” I looked back at Hitchens. “Professor, you’re with me. Karin, call if there are any more problems.”
“Of course,” said Karin.
I watched them continue in the direction of a group of Eternal children, most of them orphaned from the war. As they explained it, the space station had apparently been one of the last refugee centers, full of displaced Eternals with nowhere left to run. Leif smiled and waved at them. He was a good man, and I knew everything he’d told me had come from a place of concern. I’d always had a knack for reading people, and everything about Leif had told me that he was the real deal, which meant I had no reason to distrust him.
Still, I wondered about his fears and whether they were justified. I knew so little about the Celestials, only what he’d told me. Were they really so terrifying and powerful? And what would possess them to actively seek out other humans, simply to wipe us all out?
The whole notion seemed crazy, but I’d just watched a space station come barreling into the center of the Earth with a colony of Eternals, so hey, anything was possible.
If what Leif had told me was even remotely accurate, we had cause for concern and a desperate need to shut that slip tunnel down for good before the Celestials came through. Doing so would, at the very least, give us the time we needed to prepare. We could build up a drone fleet, establish our colony, and rebuild the Earth, strengthening our defenses to the point where no enemy could ever pose a serious threat to us.
I was never one to sit and play it safe, but maybe the time had finally come to put away the gun and pick up the shield.
Hitchens waddled up beside me, and we started walking. “Where are we off to?” he asked, once we were out of earshot.
“You still got the fruit I picked?” I asked, glancing down at the satchel on his shoulder. “Good. Hold onto that until we get to the clinic.”
“The clinic? Whatever for?”
“I wasn’t out there picking fruit for my own health,” I told him. “Someone asked me to get them. Apparently, some of the patients asked for some when they found out we had a new harvest ready. Figured I’d step out since I’m useless as a nurse.”
“Ah, I see,” said Hitchens, listening intently. “That was kind of you.”
“Hey, you don’t gotta sound so surprised, Prof,” I scoffed. “Give me a little credit, man. I can do the nice guy thing.”
“Oh, of course, Captain,” he assured me.
“I never believed otherwise.”
Two
The medical floor brimmed with activity. We’d brought in dozens of injured Eternals from the crash, many of them in need of a med-pod. Luckily, these people healed quickly, which cut their recovery time significantly. While it may have taken someone like me a few days to get myself patched up, an Eternal took only a few hours.
Still, we only had so many pods, limiting how many we could treat at any given moment. All the patients had been critical, too far gone to self-heal. Eternals usually didn’t need medicine, unless the injury was life-threatening. Even then, it had to be pretty bad to warrant a med-pod visit—broke bones, a ruptured organ, a deflated lung.
Despite their healing abilities, we still had our hands full of patients, even after a full two days.
“Where shall we go?” asked Hitchens.
“Just a second,” I muttered, looking around the room.
Across a bay of pods, I spotted Athena standing next to an occupied pod. She was talking to one of the Eternals, smiling pleasantly and motioning to a nearby screen. In addition to all the pods, we’d also brought down some extra hard-light emitters to allow her to move around the floor. The long-term goal was to get most of the city outfitted with them, but that would take a while.
Athena looked up at me, locking eyes, and then said something I couldn’t hear to the woman in front of her.
A second later, she disappeared, vanishing instantly, only to reappear right in front of me.
Without flinching, I said, “Athena.”
“Captain Hughes. It is a pleasure to see you. What can I do for you?” asked the Cognitive.
“Jace?” called a familiar voice from the other side of the room.
I glanced over to see Abigail and Octavia inside a nearby hallway. As they approached us, I snagged the satchel from Hitchens and offered it to her. “I brought the fruit like you asked.”
Abigail’s eyes lit up. “I didn’t expect this so soon,” she said, beaming at me. “Thank you, Jace. The children have been asking all day for these.”
“Children?” asked Hitchens. He looked around the bay. “Now that you mention it, I don’t see any young ones in here. Are they alright?”
“They’re doing better,” said Octavia. “We separated them from the main group. They’re down the hall.”
“Ah, I see,” said Hitchens. “I suppose it’s better for them not to see the more gruesome injuries.”
“Gruesome?” I asked, cocking my brow. “Haven’t the pods fixed the bad ones by now?”
Before anyone could answer, the door behind us opened. “It looks like everyone else is here, too,” said Freddie, right as I turned around. Petra was right beside him, sporting her new mechanical prosthetic arm.
“What are you two doing here?” I asked.
“We came to volunteer again,” said Petra. “Abigail mentioned needing the extra help. Our shift starts in a few minutes.”
Freddie’s eyes were locked on her as she spoke, a stupid grin on his face. I stared at him until he noticed me. “C-Captain, what are you doing here?” he finally asked, straightening himself.
“Dropping off some fruit,” I said.
“Fruit?” he asked.
I ignored his confusion and turned back to Octavia. “You said something about gruesome injuries before?”
“Not quite,” said Octavia. “Actually, that reminds me. There’s someone you should have a look at.”
“Are you talking about Fumi?” asked Abigail.
Octavia nodded. “He’s grown another few centimeters today, believe it or not.”
“Who’s Fumi?” I asked.
“You haven’t heard about Fumi?” asked Freddie.
I raised my eye. “Should I have?”
Hitchens chuckled. “He’s the talk of the ward, Captain. I met him yesterday afternoon.”
“How’d you find out about him?” I asked.
“Octavia keeps me quite apprised,” he answered, smiling at her.
“I told you about him, but you weren’t listening,” said Abigail, giving me a look that suggested I was going to hear about this later. “It was yesterday during lunch. We were—”
A click in my ear pulled my attention. “My apologies, sir,” interjected Sigmond. “I believe I called you in regard to the drones clearing the debris if you’ll recall.”
“Just like that,” said Abigail, tapping my shoulder. “Look at him. He’s talking to Sigmond again.”
“No, I wasn’t,” I insisted. “Did you see my lips moving?”
“You had that dazed look in your eyes,” she explained, glaring at me.
Octavia gave a knowing nod. “She’s right, Captain. You do get like that from time to time.”
I shrugged at the both of them. “Alright, alright! Just show me this Fume person so I can get on with my day. I’ve got other shit to do.”
“It’s Fumi,” said Octavia, turning around and walking to the other hallway from where she had first arrived. “This way, everyone, if you’re coming.”
“I thought the kids were down that way,” I said.
“They are,” said Abigail, a soft and quiet tone in her voice. She took me by the hand. “Come on.”
* * *
The children were in their pods—some asleep, while others watched us with curious eyes. Every single one of them had white hair and pale skin, so it took me a moment to notice the familiar little girl on the other side of the room.
Lex sat between two of the pods, a small pad in her lap and a bright smile on her face.
“I was lonely,” said Lex, reading something from the device in her hands. “I had nobody to talk to until I had an accident while flying my plane. It happened in the Sahara Desert.”
I wondered what the Sahara Desert was, but reasoned it must have disappeared a long time ago. Most of the planet was a wasteland, no trace of green to be found. Not yet, anyway.
Octavia and Abigail walked into the adjacent room, full of other children. I was about to follow and leave Lex to her own devices when she poked her head up.
I paused near the wall when she looked at me, her eyes widening with her smile. “Mr. Hughes!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“Just passing through, kid. What do you got there?”
She snapped to her feet, but I raised a hand to settle her, and then walked closer, so she didn’t have to move. “I was just reading to my friends,” she explained.
“Friends?” I asked.
She pointed to the first boy. “This is Tiler.”
I gave him a quick wave. “Hey, Tiler.”
“Hello,” replied the boy, who looked to be about the same age as Lex.
“And this is Dixon,” she continued, pointing to the second child.
Dixon tucked his mouth under his blanket. “Hi,” he said in a muffled voice. His white hair dangled over his bright eyes.
“What’s Lex reading to you?” I asked him. “Something good?”
“The Little Prince,” said Tiler.
The name didn’t ring any bells. “Never heard of that one. Is it any good?” I asked, looking at Dixon.
The boy nodded, and I could see the edges of a smile beneath his blanket. “Uh huh.”
I placed my hand on Lex’s head. “Did Hitchens tell you about it? The book, I mean.”
“Athena gave it to me. She said it was a good one for kids,” explained Lex.
“Yeah? I never did much reading when I was your age. Let’s hear the next part.”
She straightened her shoulders, tapping the screen, so the light grew brighter. “I had to sleep on the sand, thousands of kilometers from any civilization,” she read, barely pausing, even at the longer words. “I was more isolated than a sailor in a lifeboat after a shipwreck in the middle of the ocean. So, you can imagine how amazed I was when a miraculous childish voice woke me up at dawn.”
“Draw me a sheep!” exclaimed Tiler.
I looked at him, confused by the outburst.
>
“Draw me a sheep!” echoed Dixon, finally loosening his grip on the blanket and revealing his eager smile.
“What’s that?” I asked, knowing I must have missed something.
“It’s the next part of the story,” said Lex, pointing at the pad. “A little boy shows up. He’s a prince, and he wants to see a sheep because he’s never seen any, so he asks the man to draw him one. I already read this part to them yesterday, but we started over because it was so good.”
“I’ve never heard of a sheep,” I admitted.
“Athena says it’s some kind of animal,” said Lex, tilting her head as she tried to remember. “Fluffy and white, like a cloud. She promised to show us a picture later if we were good.”
“They sound neat,” said Dixon, giggling.
“Have you finished the story yet?” I asked them.
The two boys shook their head.
“Well, tell me how it ends, alright?” I asked, tousling Lex’s hair as I spoke. “I wanna know if the kid ever gets his sheep.”
“He’s a prince,” insisted Lex, like I should know better.
“Oh, right,” I said, raising my hands in defense.
“Jace,” said Abigail, drawing my attention. She stood in the doorway. “Over here. You’ll want to see this.”
I nodded at her, then turned to Lex and her two friends. “Gotta go, but you three have fun.”
“Bye, Mr. Hughes,” said Lex.
“Bye!” exclaimed both Tyler and Dixon.
I turned and left them to their stories, the sounds of their giggling lingering behind me as I walked.
I joined the others in the second bay. They stood around one of the pods along the far end of the little room. “What is it?” I asked as I stepped closer.
Hitchens and Octavia moved aside, letting me get a better view of the sleeping boy inside the pod. He looked to be about seven years old. I was about to ask what happened to him when I noticed his missing hand, wrapped in a bandage.
“This is Fumi,” explained Octavia.
“I take it he almost didn’t make it,” I said.
“Almost,” said Octavia. Her eyes fell on the missing hand. “Were he a normal little boy, things surely would have gone the other way.”
