Travelers

by Alia Hess

  “Uh… Maybe was bad idea. I’m going to go downstairs,” Sasha muttered.

  “Yes, Sasha, I think that’s a good idea,” Dr. Orlov replied in irritation.

  Trav touched Owl’s back as she stood and grimaced. “You okay?”

  She nodded, wiping her mouth and turning around.

  Dr. Orlov shifted on his cane. “I apologize for Sasha. He is wonderful with technology but has a hard time thinking about how his actions affect others. But if you are concerned about the movement up north, as you should be, I can tell you all about it. No more pictures of it though, I promise.”

  Trav slipped his hatchet back into his pant loop and chewed at his lip. He looked at Owl and nodded.

  “We’ll come in,” she said.

  “Wonderful!”

  Trav and Owl followed the doctors to a trailer. Dr. Krupin opened the door, and a blast of warm air blew around her. She shrugged off her cloak and stepped inside. Notes, sketches, and photographs plastered the walls. A clear table sat in the room’s center, stacked with books and electronic equipment, and a plush couch occupied the corner. It was hard to fathom the newness of the Old World-style furniture. The photos were scenes only a bird would be privy to… or one of those drones. Aerial views of caravans, farming towns, highwaymen in a junkyard, trashdogs, boofalope, and animals she didn’t have names for coated the walls.

  For a moment, she forgot to breathe, absorbed in the pictures. Even Trav studied the photos with a hand on his chin. He touched one.

  “It’s Nis.”

  Green treetops and clusters of domed white houses crowded the image, dotted here and there with tiny silhouettes of people.

  “What now?” Dr. Orlov asked. “What’d he say?”

  “Nis.” Trav pointed at the image.

  “That’s what the island is called,” Owl said. “That’s where he’s from.”

  “Excellent!” Orlov clapped his hands together. “I don’t have the names of any of the islands. What about this one?”

  Trav’s gaze lingered on the Nis photo, then he turned to the picture of rickety houses, rope bridges, and numerous fishing boats on a beach.

  “Pearlolla.”

  “And these?” Orlov pointed to more photos after writing down the name. There were three. Huts made of metal siding and recycled materials sat in rows on a black and barren land. There were no trees, or bushes, or grass, and no sandy beaches. Trashdogs wearing harnesses rooted through garbage, and Islanders with black skin and shaved heads occupied the area, decorated with bright red paint.

  Trav scowled. “Soot.”

  “All of them?”

  He nodded, then looked at Owl. “Tell him they are vicious, horrible people living on islands of trash.”

  Owl translated, and Orlov grinned like a kid opening birthday presents. He jotted down some notes. “Let’s have a proper interview so I don’t have to write everything down. I have some stock questions, then we can discuss whatever you want. I’m going to record this, so I need you to speak clearly in the direction of the microphone once we begin. Let’s start with you.” Orlov pointed to Owl.

  She sat hesitantly at the clear table and the doctor took a seat across from her. Dr. Krupin reclined on the couch, looking disinterested. Trav leaned against a bare spot on the wall.

  “Okay, so what do I do?”

  “I’m going to take your photo. Please sit still.”

  Owl sat rigidly as Orlov slid a computer (that was her best guess as to what the slim, many-buttoned device was called anyway), into the center of the table. He looked into the screen and pushed a button. Click. Orlov swung out a thin metal appendage and jabbed more buttons. “State your full name into the microphone, please.”

  She leaned into the metal rod. “Into this thing? My name is Owl Leah Melonvine.”

  “And how old are you?”

  “Twenty-six.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Hawthorne. It’s a city in the North, about as far away from the coast as we are now. Or... it was. Raided and burned now, apparently. That picture Sasha showed me…”

  “I see. How did you make it out in time?”

  “I wasn’t living there when the slavers came. I was living in Waterton, to the southeast.”

  “By yourself? Or with your companion here?”

  “No…With my ex-husband.” She frowned. “You guys can’t really cause another Collapse, right?”

  Orlov sighed and pressed a button, then propped his chin in his hand. “I find this American superstition both fascinating and irritating. Please let me finish these stock questions first, and I promise I will answer whatever you want.”

  The doctor asked a few more questions, then had Trav trade places with Owl. Orlov took his picture. “I think if you enunciate your words I will be able to understand you. Otherwise, Owl will have to translate. Please state your full name into the microphone.”

  Trav hesitated, then leaned into the metal rod. “Trav.”

  “Just Trav? Nothing else?”

  He screwed up his face, brows bunched. “Son of Mossflower. That’s my name. It’s not my real name, either. But it’s all I’ve got.”

  “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  Dr. Orlov pushed his spectacles up his nose. “Okay. Okay. Well, how old are you?”

  “Thirty-two.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Nis.”

  “Do ‘Mainlanders’ and ‘Islanders’ have a lot of interaction?”

  “No.” Trav leaned back in the chair, pulling off his cloak. “I think right along the coast they probably see each other more often and get along better, but out here?” He shook his head.

  Orlov squinted at them. “I take it inter-race relationships aren’t a common occurrence, then.”

  “No.” Trav glanced at Owl. “Most Islanders wouldn’t even consider it. And half-breeds are not treated well. That’s what everyone thinks I am. But I’m not.”

  “Clearly not. I suspect you have albinism.”

  Owl’s stomach dropped. Is our relationship a taboo? She didn’t register the rest of Trav and Orlov’s exchange, wrapped in her own thoughts. Trav described the people on Nis as judgmental and passive-aggressive. They had been polite to Mainland missionaries, apparently, but the missionaries weren’t sleeping with the natives. Would they have to keep their relationship hidden? Would they even let her stay?

  “Owl?”

  She snapped from her worries as Orlov said, “I’m ready to answer your questions. In regards to your previous one, no, we didn’t cause The Collapse, and we aren’t going to bring another. This delusion that the drones hear everything people say and will bring a flurry of destruction upon disbelievers is ridiculous. Sasha finds it quite amusing when people drop to the ground and worship his drones.”

  “But what about the other drones? The silver ones?”

  “Those are not ours. They come from other countries.”

  Owl shook her head. “I’m confused. Did The Collapse happen in other places too? Are there drones that watch Russia?”

  “No, no. The virus never escaped the American continents.”

  “Then why do you need a cure for it? If all the Americans here can resist it?”

  Dr. Krupin spoke up from the couch. “Not cure. Vaccine. There is no cure. We believe this virus will one day spread to Asia and other places. Officially, we are making the vaccine to protect Russia from the virus. We only sent the drones before, for curiosity—like other countries do—and then one day spotted big ships in the waters off the West Coast. If those ships come to Asia, it will be in big trouble. They will bring the virus. The Russian government is very worried about this and wants the vaccine.”

  “Officially.”

  “Officially. Yes.”

  “And unofficially?”

  “Eh, unofficially, our group has other motives. I really am going to perfect the vaccine, but it will be for immigrants to America
only. We aren’t going to give it to Russia or anyone else. If another country had the vaccine, they could come here. Anyone could.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Owl asked.

  “If another country, like China, had resistance, and was interested in America, they wouldn’t come to help you out, they would colonize. This would be a new China, and you would be Chinese citizens. Your country’s rituals, culture, freedom… It would be all gone. You would have to learn Chinese, practice Chinese traditions, work in cramped factories for twelve hours a day for a terrible wage, making mass-produced items that only people with too much money want to buy. Your land would fill with pollution. You wouldn’t see the stars anymore.”

  “That’s what the rest of the world is like?”

  “Yes,” Krupin said. “There are riots in Europe, wars in the Middle East, pollution in Asia, starvation in Africa. The more I saw of the rest of the world, made me want to risk coming here. It’s like… the world is a city. There is fighting and hate, filthy streets, and everything is expensive and pointless. And then America is a park. Or a field. Far away from everything else. Peaceful. Quiet. Open. And maybe there are some snakes in the grass, but compared to the rest of the city, it’s much, much better.”

  “Damn.” Owl frowned. “I never thought of things like that before. I sort of feel like we’re the lucky ones, now.”

  Orlov smiled. “Exactly. And now, we are too. You see, we are the only non-Americans to set foot in America in one hundred and fifty-two years. We can only be here because of our experimental vaccine. We have given it to a select few people, like Sasha, that have appropriate skills for our research and an adventurous spirit. Everyone else, especially the governments and armies of other countries, we are trying to keep out.”

  Krupin muttered, “Other countries are reliant on technology and government. They are sheep. Fat, stupid, and complacent.”

  Orlov grinned. “There is no big business here, no technology reliance, factory farming, or government oppression… I am no adventurer, but being here does my soul much more good than being stuck in an office in Moskva. We don’t want to go back.”

  Trav frowned. “Aren’t you concerned that an army is amassing in the north? That doesn’t seem much better than other countries to me.”

  Dr. Orlov squinted. “It’s not much concern to us because most of our facility is underground, but I’m sure escaping that is your priority. Where do you plan to go?”

  “Nis.”

  “You’re pretty close, then. We’re only about seventy miles away from the coast.”

  “We can’t head straight west, though. We need to get to a town further south called Tassi. There’s a trade ship there that can take us to the Pearlollans.”

  “I see. You know, Sasha has been dying to do some traveling. How would you like to catch a ride with him tomorrow? He wouldn’t be able to take you all the way there, but I’d let him drive you for an hour or two.”

  Owl raised her eyebrows in surprise. “How many miles would that cover?”

  “Forty, fifty, maybe more. It will depend on the condition of the roads and what sort of obstacles are in the way. Our vehicles can drive off road easily, but sometimes the debris makes it hard to maneuver.”

  Fifty miles in an hour?

  Dr. Orlov was still talking. Owl interrupted him. “Did you say fifty miles? That’s three days of walking. A lot more when we’re held up by ruins. I—I can’t even imagine covering that distance in less than a day.”

  Orlov shrugged. “You two have been more forthcoming than any of the other people we’ve met, so it’s the least we can do. It’s okay with you, right, Vadim?”

  He nodded. “Sasha and Irina have been asking to travel for a long time now. Let them both go. Get Sasha out of my hair for a while.”

  “So, did they take your experimental vaccine too? And have side effects?”

  “Yes. All of us took it. We were all passionate enough about America that we decided that taking the risk was worth it. Two… died. The rest of us have side effects. I think it will be a year or two before it is perfect.”

  Trav and Owl stood up from the clear table, thanking the doctors again and agreeing to meet at the gate in the morning. They headed outside, past the perimeter fence. As they started a campfire, Owl said, “I knew the superstition was a bunch of shit.”

  Trav snapped twigs and laid them on the fire. “Sure you did.”

  “You know, this doesn’t really change anything, though. Knowing the truth, I mean. People will keep on believing what they want to believe.”

  “I’m sure that’s true.” He sighed and sat down.

  Her mouth bunched. “The people on Nis won’t like that we’re together.”

  “Yeah. They won’t. But it’s better than the alternative. Who knows how far Winter’s army will stretch? It’s small now, but who’s going to stop them from taking over everything? I’m afraid it’s going to grow out of control. Nis is the only place that I know is safe.”

  She shut her eyes. They had walked through countless places together. There were so many instances where Trav was ridiculed, slandered, and sneered at. Would the reverse happen? Would Nisians glower at her and call her a trashbilly?

  “My people are polite,” he continued as if reading her thoughts. “They won’t say anything to your face. They won’t… do anything to you. But every person there is the town gossip, just so you know.”

  He tugged at the hem of her cloak and she sat in his lap. Trav slid his arms around her and nuzzled her hair. “I’m nervous about going back too. But my cousins and uncle aren’t like a lot of the people there. They still can’t keep a secret to save their lives, but they’re friendly. Funny. They won’t judge you, or our relationship. And if worse comes to worse, you don’t even have to live in the villages. There’s plenty of room on Nis. I could build you a house.” He squeezed her. “A cozy little house, right by the beach, surrounded by palm trees and Stargazers. Doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”

  She gave him a small smile. “No, that doesn’t sound bad. Where will you live?”

  Trav shrugged and looked into the dirt. “I’m sure people assume I’m dead, so there’s probably someone else in my house. I’ll have to build another or move into a different one. …It feels so surreal to think about living there again. Going back home. I’m glad you’re coming with me. You do still want to come with me, right?”

  “Yes. I want to be where you are. …But there better be Stargazers in front of my house, or the deal’s off.”

  Trav grinned. “You got it.”

  10 ~ Virus ~

  The next morning, they climbed into one of the small trucks parked in the trampled grass near the trailers. Sasha occupied the driver’s seat and a red-headed woman sat next to him. He gestured to her. “This beautiful lady is Irina. Her American is not so good. Mine is worst.”

  “Hi.” Irina looked back at them as Sasha pointed the car toward the gate. “Sasha thinks he is funny. Just tell him to shut up if you don’t want to listen to his bad jokes.”

  Sasha gave Irina a dirty look, then turned his attention back to the dirt trail leading from the compound. “In anyways, we are really excited. The doctors are never letting us to explore. Only now for your favor.”

  “Sasha, do you fly all the drones here?” Owl asked.

  “Yes. I have seen so many things. But exploring in person is better. Also, I work on computers. Dr. Orlov always forgetting his password for email.”

  She decided not to ask him what that meant. “So what do you do, Irina?”

  The car bumped over a dirt mound and turned onto the road. Owl gripped the seat, bracing herself against the jarring vibrations. Trav clung to a handle on the ceiling, looking mildly terrified.

  “I am anthropologist like Dr. Orlov. Studying under him,” Irina said. “We are so excited to be here.”

  “How long have you been in America?”

  “Only couple months.”

  “I’m confused. How is th
ere a vaccine when you’ve only been here a couple months? I’m no doctor, but I would imagine it would take longer than that.”

  “Oh, Dr. Krupin has been here couple years.”

  “But how did he get here to make the vaccine without catching the virus?”

  Irina gripped the back of her seat as the car jostled them along. “I think he did much studying before coming here. And then when he arrived he had to wear special suit and have sterile lab. At first, it was only him and Dr. Kuznetsov working on virus. But Dr. Kuznetsov died after taking vaccine.” She frowned, sharing a look with Sasha. “But here I can be explorer and adventurer. We’re making history.”

  “Yes, for adventure!” Sasha exclaimed, the car bouncing over divots and rocks in the highway. “I bet you guys done many exciting things! My dream is to be American adventurer. Not be Russian anymore. But my American needs to improve. Also, I have weak heart. Can’t run or walk for long time or I get falling feeling and pass out. Don’t know how to be good adventurer like that.”

  Irina looked back at them. “It’s from the vaccine. I have seizure now.”

  Owl turned her attention from the green foothills speeding by to Irina. “That sounds terrible. Was it really worth it? To be able to be here?”

  Sasha and Irina agreed in unison. Irina said, “Our ideas are not agree with the rest of this world. But Sasha and I both discovered Dr. Orlov’s website, and we decided to share same dream. Others too.”

  “We are so lucky to be here,” Sasha said. “Rest of world sucks. You know population of Earth is over eight billion people? America is only point zero three percent of world population. I tell you secret.” He pointed a long finger in the air. “I think Dr. Krupin want to release virus on rest of world. That would protect America. And in couple hundred years, rest of world would be like America too. Think of that—Russia, just like America. Wide open land, no government, place of adventure.”

  Owl’s eyes widened. “They are going to bring about another Collapse.”

  “That’s lies, Sasha!” Irina frowned with disgust. “Dr. Krupin would not do this! That would be mass murder.”