by J. J. Green
When Cariad had asked Cherry to come back for another interview, she refused and then didn’t answer any further comms. Cariad was forced to take a flitter and the two compliance enforcement officers appointed by Osias to bring in the headstrong Gen. Aubriot had insisted on coming along too.
The enforcement officer who flew the vehicle was a woman called Mariko. The other officer was a man called Arden. Cariad didn’t know the criteria Osias had set out that qualified the two of them for their new jobs. When the Manual had been written, it had been assumed that conflicts would be peaceably settled through discussion and consensus. No one had thought that the colony would require policing, at least not until the colonization was one or two generations down the line.
Cariad was sitting next to Aubriot in the back seat of the flitter while the two compliance enforcement officers sat up front.
“Wait. Where does this woman live?” Aubriot asked as the flitter passed through the gates of the electric fence that surrounded the settlement.
“Cherry’s farm is next to Ethan’s,” Cariad replied. “She took it over after he left. We might have to find someone to take both farms on now.”
“I didn’t realize we’d be going all the way out there,” Aubriot said. “Is it far?”
“Half an hour or so,” Cariad replied. “You’ll get to see that lake you were so keen to nuke.”
Aubriot nodded but didn’t reply. He was looking uncharacteristically pensive.
Cariad asked, “Is this your first time outside the settlement?”
“Yeah, it is.”
She watched him out of the corner of her eye. Was it possible that the confident, arrogant Aubriot was feeling nervous?
“They only come out at night, you know,” she said.
Aubriot turned toward her sharply. “What only come out at night?”
“The predators that got into the camp on the First Night Attack. They’re nocturnal. We won’t see any during daylight, so there’s no need to be afraid.”
“Who said I was afraid?” Aubriot shot.
“No one. I was only explaining in case you were wondering.”
Aubriot scowled and returned his gaze to the landscape.
On Cariad’s previous visit to the farming district, she’d been too worried about the victims who had been dragged into the lake to pay much attention to her surroundings. That day, faced with the solemn and regrettable task of taking Cherry in for questioning against her will, Cariad was glad of the momentary distraction.
The landscape had changed considerably since the time she’d gone with Ethan to see his farm. Then, using a flitter had been a necessity. Vegetation had covered the ground all the way out to the land allotted for the farming district. Now, a roadmaker had paved the entire route, making it accessible to the wheeled vehicles brought on the Nova Fortuna, which made Cariad question why they were using a flitter at all. It had become a habit to use the flying craft. She would have to speak to Osias about measures to curb their use.
The tall fern-like plants that surrounded the settlement gave way to the shorter vegetation that marked the beginning of the farming district. They soon passed a field full of tall green shoots. The colony’s first crops were growing strongly. Little on the planet seemed to be interested in eating or otherwise harming the Earth crops, which was perhaps a predictable outcome of evolution. Whatever organisms and viruses had evolved on Concordia hadn’t been exposed to plants from Earth up until that moment. Osias had told her of some disturbances in fields of root crops where they hadn’t been able to identify the pest, but the effect was localized and minor.
They were well inside the farming district before they reached Cherry’s house.
“That’s the one,” Mariko said, pointing to a square, single story building in the distance. It was identical to all the other pre-fabricated farmhouses but Mariko knew the location from the flitter’s guidance system. The vehicle glided down the lane that led to the building.
Cariad couldn’t shake a guilty feeling about forcing Cherry to come in and be interviewed. It was tantamount to arresting her. Also, Cherry was Ethan’s friend and Cariad also didn’t think he would have been so blind as to not notice something not right about her. He’d spotted it in Twyla. And there was the fact that Cherry had very nearly died at the flooding of the caves. It seemed unlikely that Twyla would have killed another follower. Yet perhaps she hadn’t known Cherry was there, or maybe it had only been the death wish of the movement playing out.
“So what do you plan on doing with this woman when you’ve got her?” Aubriot asked.
“Question her, of course.”
“Hmpf.” Aubriot lifted a lip in a sneer and looked out across Cherry’s fields.
“What does that mean?” Cariad asked, silently regretting taking the bait.
“You’re a scientist. You might know everything there is to know about your specialism, but most of you are clueless about human nature. Face it. You’re not exactly cut out to be an interrogator, are you?”
“Maybe not,” Cariad replied evenly. “But I’m as good as anyone else, and someone has to do it.”
“You’re correct on the second,” Aubriot said, “wrong on the first.”
“Oh really? I’m not as good as anyone else? Who do you think would be better?” she asked, simultaneously guessing Aubriot’s answer.
“Isn’t it obvious? I could do a better job at getting the truth out of someone than anyone else on this planet or floating above it. Blindfolded, deafened, and with both hands tied behind my back.”
Cariad relished the mental image Aubriot’s words conjured up. “I wouldn’t be too sure of myself if I were you. Brow-beating and threats yield poor results as interrogation tactics.”
Aubriot seemed about to launch into a tirade, but then thought better of it. “I wasn’t talking about having a go at her. I’m not thick. Do you think I did so well in business by bulldozing my way through negotiations?”
Cariad actually thought that a large part of Aubriot’s success was due to the massive wealth he’d inherited, but she diplomatically decided not to voice her true opinion. If Aubriot could curb his natural responses for the sake of civility, so could she. “To be honest, I don’t know. I don’t know anything about business negotiations.”
Visibly pleased at the rare, almost-compliment from her, Aubriot said, “There’s a lot to it, but a technique every successful businessman uses to get the deal he wants is to make the other person feel like they’re benefiting from the agreement too. Another important skill is to be able to read people. In some ways, it’s a lot like playing poker. You can’t give anything away, but at the same time you have to be able to guess what everyone else is thinking.”
They pulled up outside Cherry’s farmhouse. It was mid-afternoon, and Cariad guessed that the woman would probably be out at work in her fields. It might take some time to find her. They all exited the flitter.
“What do you say?” Aubriot asked.
“You mean about whether you can be there when I question Cherry?”
“Yes.”
“I guess so. But the minute you do something to jeopardize the interview, out you go.”
There was a creak from up ahead. Cherry had come out onto her porch. Her weapon butt rested on her shoulder and the muzzle was pointed directly at them.
“You’re assuming I agree to be interviewed,” she said.
An awkward pause later—Mariko and Arden seemed suddenly confused about what exactly they were supposed to do—Cariad said, “I’m sorry. I have to ask you to come back with me to the settlement.”
“You have to ask me?” Cherry laughed. “If you’re here to ask me, why have you brought the colony’s latest bullies along? And what’s the fallen tycoon doing here? What you really mean is, you’re ordering me to go with you. Isn’t that right? Why dress it up? You and the other Woken really can’t stand it to have us Gens doing what we like, can you? Ethan’s gone. Garwin’s under arrest. I knew I’d be targeted sooner or later. I’m
only surprised it took you so long.”
“I don’t like to do this either, Cherry,” said Cariad, hating the whiny tone in her voice. But she really was sorry. “But you have to come back with us. I have to talk to you about your involvement with the Natural Movement.”
“Huh. That’s the cover for taking me in, is it? Couldn’t you have thought of something more convincing? Do you really think the Gens will believe I could be a saboteur?”
“They’ll believe it if you don’t come with us quietly,” Aubriot said.
Cherry had been staring down Cariad, but her gaze flicked to the financier. “No Gen would ever think that of me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Aubriot said. “People love to gossip, and the nastier the rumor the better. There’s gonna be someone who’ll say you put up a fight because you’ve got something to hide. No smoke without fire, you know. But if you come with us now, without a fight, that’ll show everyone you’re clean.”
Aubriot’s argument seemed to have an effect. Cherry frowned and hesitated to respond.
For the first time ever, Cariad found herself impressed by Aubriot.
Then Cherry said, “Yeah, like I care what people think.” She swung her gaze back to Cariad, and with hatred written on her features, she lifted her weapon to fire.
Mariko and Arden finally sprang into action. Before Cherry could get out a shot, they felled her with stunning pulse rounds. Aubriot climbed the steps to the farmhouse porch, lifted up Cherry’s small body, and carried her to the flitter.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
When Ethan came around, he was lying in the dark. It took him a few moments to remember what he’d been doing before he lost consciousness. He’d escaped from the thread creatures! He’d cut a hole in the cell wall with the Guardian weapon and got out into the river.
He sat up and hollered as pain shot out from his foot. After a while, the waves of agony subsided enough for him to think. Where was he? The ground was flat, hard, and smooth. If he’d made it to the riverbank, he should have been sitting on sand. Was it nighttime? He couldn’t see any stars, and the air was still. Not a puff of breeze stirred. He could hear the river, though. The rushing sound seemed to be all around him. Had he made it to an island?
Then, through his pain-fogged mind, the truth hit him. He wasn’t on an island. He was inside some kind of artificial structure. A terrible dread grew in his stomach, almost paralyzing his thoughts. He couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be. Not after all his efforts.
The floor he was sitting on slid out from beneath him. He fell and hit a second floor hard. The jolt turned his foot into a ball of fiery agony and for some time all he could do was endure the pain and hope that it would lessen.
When Ethan could open his eyes at last, what he saw sent a wave of horror crashing over him. He was back in the chamber. It was cleaner than it had been—the river water that had flowed in through the hole had washed out all the debris of Ethan’s time in there—but it was unmistakably the same place.
Dismay overcame him. He closed his eyes. After all that he’d gone through, all that he’d suffered to escape, he was back where he’d started. He must have only gone a short distance in the river before the thread creatures captured him again. They’d put him in the water lock above the cell while they drained the chamber and repaired the wall. Then they had dropped him into it again.
He was facing the three opaque walls. The transparent wall was behind him. Was Quinn there, waiting to speak to him? Ethan couldn’t bring himself to turn around and look. When he’d escaped, he’d been prepared to die in the attempt. Now it looked like even that privilege would not be allowed. The thread organisms were determined to keep their experimental animal in captivity forever.
For a long time, Ethan didn’t move. He lay on the floor. He didn’t think he had the willpower to ever move again. He couldn’t even bring himself to report what had happened into his recorder. His world was four walls and a globe of pain centered on his foot. If he’d had a knife, he imagined it would have hurt less to cut off his leg than to experience the suffering the appendage was causing him.
If there had been another option than to lie there and passively accept his fate, Ethan would have taken it, pain-wracked and near death as he was. But no more options were open to him. The thread creatures would never give him the weapon again, and without it there was no way out of the chamber unless his captors granted it. And the thread organisms had already demonstrated how little they were willing to let him go.
His fate was set. His supplies were gone, which meant he had no water. He would last another few days, then that would be it. There was no point in him even moving from where he was. There was no point in doing anything anymore.
Yet, despite everything, he found that he just couldn’t give up.
Very slowly and with great care, Ethan sat up. His head swam and he was nauseated though his stomach was an empty hole. Propping himself on his arms, he looked over his shoulder. Quinn was there at the clear wall. Or Ethan guessed it was Quinn. It looked like him. The creature held a tentacle to the wall as if ready to begin a new attempt at communication. It probably was Quinn.
Gently, Ethan swiveled around to face the wall. “Why won’t you leave me alone? I don’t want to talk to you. You’ve killed me. I’m going to die here, and it’s your fault. Why have you done this to me?”
Of course, Quinn offered no reply other than to hold his tentacle against the surface, ready to communicate. Despair and anger held Ethan motionless, unwilling to give the creature another moment of his attention. Then something else prompted him to move. Curiosity? Tedium? Loneliness? He began to make the slow, painful journey over to the wall.
Centimeter by centimeter Ethan dragged himself across the wet floor until he finally reached his destination. Leaning on the wall for support, he lifted a hand to feel Quinn’s signal. He felt the pattern, No.
A pause.
No.
Ethan waited. The touch pattern was repeated a third time. No.
No, he mustn’t try to escape? That seemed to be what Quinn was saying. Ethan rested his forehead against the wall. Was that simple message what he’d gone to the effort of dragging himself over for? Then again, what else should he have expected? Little more could have been communicated. Between them, they had a vocabulary of just a few words.
The wall moved slightly. Quinn wasn’t repeating the same message. He was saying something different.
The wall flexed twice. Hard-hard. That was easy. Two. Quinn was telling him, Two. Two what?
Ethan repeated the touch pattern. Quinn confirmed it. Two. But then he communicated something else. It took Ethan a moment to recognize the message. It was one of the words he’d taught Quinn to trick him into bringing him his weapon. More. Quinn pressed the wall again. Two more.
Ethan’s heart froze. Had the thread creatures caught two more colonists? Were they bringing them to his chamber? But, no, that was impossible. The settlement was hours away by flitter and no one else would have come to the river. They had no reason to. Quinn couldn’t mean two more people. So what did he mean?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
If looks could kill, Cariad would have been dead and buried and Cherry would be dancing on her grave. The aggrieved Gen sat opposite Cariad in her interview room in the government building. The compliance enforcement officers had insisted on putting her in handcuffs. Cariad hadn’t even known that Mariko and Arden had handcuffs, but apparently the devices had been designed and roughly manufactured according to examples an engineer had seen in vids. Cariad had the impression that Mariko and Arden only wanted to try out their new toys.
Cherry had been disgusted when, as she came around from being stunned, the manacles were snapped into place around her wrists. “Really?” she’d spat at Mariko, who’d at least possessed enough integrity to look a little ashamed. Cariad had been about to tell the officer to remove the cuffs, but Aubriot, who was sitting beside Cariad, had frowned and given a slight
shake of his head. She’d been swayed by his opinion. At Cherry’s farmhouse, Aubriot had demonstrated that he had good insight into human nature. He’d almost persuaded Cherry to come with them peacefully, which, given the woman’s feisty character, was quite an achievement.
Cariad didn’t know what purpose it would serve to restrain Cherry, but she was willing to take Aubriot’s suggestion on faith for the moment.
“Are you going to tell me why I’m here?” Cherry asked. “You’re all insane. I’ve never had anything to do with the Natural Movement. I never even heard of them until after the First Night Attack. I don’t want to destroy this place. Why would I? It’s my home. It’s all the Gens’ home, if only you’d leave us in peace to live in it.”
Cariad said, “You might say none of the Gens would ever want to destroy the colony, but that isn’t true. The saboteur in the First Night Attack was a Gen, and we’re almost certain Twyla was responsible for the disaster at the caves.”
Cherry’s expression of sullen fury softened with curiosity. “And this all has something to do with that injury on my leg you were asking me about?”
Cariad didn’t respond. She’d questioned Cherry about her suspicious abrasion earlier and gotten nowhere. Now Cariad needed to discover whether Cherry had been indoctrinated into the Natural Movement while being taught at kindergarten by Twyla.
Cherry moved to fold her arms but was prevented by the handcuffs. She scowled and barked, “Isn’t anyone here going to tell me anything?”
“We’re waiting to hear what you have to tell us,” Aubriot said, smiling enigmatically.
It was a sneaky move, but Cariad could see Aubriot’s tactic. Someone with a guilty conscience might feel compelled to spill the beans into the vacuum he was creating. She doubted that the technique would have worked on experienced criminals back on Earth, but the Gens were probably more easy to fool than even ordinary Earth citizens.
Yet Cherry was either too smart to be taken in by Aubriot’s bluff or she really was innocent because she didn’t bite. “Tell you what exactly? Wait, forget that. What I really want to know is, on whose authority did you stun me and drag me from my home, and who’s given you permission to keep me here? I thought we’d seen an end to suppression of Gens’ rights when the Guardians deactivated. What makes you think it’s okay to treat me like this? Who do you think you are? You’re only a Woken,” she said, looking at Cariad. “You’re some kind of ex-big shot,” she went on, referring to Aubriot. “And you two are just Gens who are in love with the idea of bossing people around.” Cherry turned to Mariko and Arden with a sharp look. “I’m not going to forget this, you know,” she added before returning her angry gaze to Cariad.
