The tail snapped about in emphasis. “Monster! Really? Now that is just a bit harsh. I prefer to think of myself as a ‘mortality technician’. But if we are splitting hairs, aren’t you Terrans the true monsters? Did not your people invade and conquer my planet? All I am doing is ensuring the survival of my kind. You would do much the same. Who truly is the monster here?”
“Give us back our bairn!” Morris demanded, her thick brogue disappearing entirely in the white hot heat of her rage. “And set us down. Take us home this instant!”
The tail somehow made the equivalent of a shoulder shrug.
“As you wish,” it replied.
And then Warren’s eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed onto the foggy floor.
Chapter 11
They were returned to fire and madness.
It seemed the air had ignited and burned anything combustible within or without every building. The streets had buckled and fractured. The three of them had to climb up a jagged piece of pavement that looked like a gigantic piece of shattered glass and then shimmy down the broken pieces on the other side. Houses made out of fireproof materials were broken and tumbled about like a child’s toys. Shards of broken windows were everywhere. Severed pipes sprayed water, irrigating the ruin. Somewhere they heard a baby crying. From the opposite direction a woman wailed and shrieked in madness brought on by shock. Even the bobbies wandered about with dazed expressions, wanting to help but too overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation to know what to do.
They rounded a corner and saw the bookstore leaning to one side. The sign that once hung outside, now resided on a gas lamp, speared through the first letter ‘o’ of Professor as if to add insult to injury.
Edgar stopped and just stared. Morris took her arm gently to try to coax her on but Edgar just shook her head once.
“It’s a bookstore,” she said and her words held a scornful tone. “What do you think we’re gonna find? Books burn. They’ll be nothing but ash and coal.”
“At least nae un’ was inside,” Morris said, trying to be helpful. “Nae un’ died.”
Edgar turned an angry face to her. “Oh, like that makes it all better?”
“They’re just things, love,” Morris consoled. Her words only made it worse.
“And things can be replaced. Is that what you were going to say?” Edgar snarled. “Well, not these things! Most of my books are one of a kind. Irreplaceable! When a museum is completely destroyed, how do you replace the artifacts lost? You don’t! I cannot replace those books.”
Morris shrank under the venomous words. Edgar didn’t even care.
Warren said one word: “Alexandria,”
Edgar stopped and stared at him. Then she nodded and gave a rueful smile. “The boy gets it,” she said.
They managed eventually to convince Edgar to inspect the ruins of her bookstore. She was right. The store had become a tinder box in the quake. Any books that survived did so because they were at the bottom of a pile of other tomes burning on top.
Ironically the first book they uncovered was War & Peace. They salvaged a small pile and managed to scrounge a bag to carry them in. Warren found some undamaged tins of food. Morris changed into a cat and crawled into the smaller places to retrieve damp clothes that smelled like smoke, so at least they all had one set of spares.
They packed up what they could find and joined the growing throng of homeless filing to the one large building which had been spared from most of the destruction, the local theatre.
They were refugees now.
In the theatre, the three of them met up with Sprocket. Although they had parted on not so friendly terms, one look in her eyes told them such things were forgiven. The current situation had leveled the playing field. They were all in the same boat.
Both dekas and drones were now homeless. The railroad had been shattered. The theatre housed mostly drones but there were a few dekas in their midst. One deka family had lost all but one of their seven children. The parents clung to their young son as if they would never let go and the boy stared about with vacant eyes, too shocked to react.
The theatre’s air filtration had been damaged by the quake so everyone had to keep their masks on while three engineers tried desperately to fix it. All were aware of the finite amount of oxygen left to them if the repairmen could not get the air filters working again.
Someone had managed to salvage a large battery to recharge masks but everyone knew it wouldn’t last long. A few had managed to save or loot Babbage devices and people huddled about them in small groups, hungry for what news they could learn. The devastation was widespread. The government was damaged too so news came slowly.
Everyone knew the truly bad news was yet to come although few people were brave enough to voice it. People were going to need oxygen, food and especially clean water very soon. Everyone had grabbed what they could. But they knew the stores weren’t going to last more than a few days. The water was their greatest concern. Most of the pipes were broken.
A few days into their situation, there was a ruckus at the door to the building. Sprocket left the small group to see what the fuss was all about. She returned soon with news.
It seemed a relief group from the government had finally showed up but the news was not good. “They’re handing out free packets of food and water, all laced with Mulligan Stew,” she told them.
Edgar sniffed in disapproval. “They’re trying to keep us from rioting.”
Sprocket nodded. “People are not happy and are throwing it back in their faces.”
“They need ta evacuate tha planet!” Morris grumbled.
“Oh, that’s not gonna happen,” Edgar replied.
“Then there will be rioting in the streets, and very soon,” Warren muttered. “I’ve been in their heads. People are scared and angry.”
“Any news from other planets on if and when they’re gonna send help?” Edgar asked Sprocket. She knew Sprocket had ferreted out a small Babbage device whose range was far and could actually get off-world news from time to time.
Sprocket made a face as if they weren’t going to like what she had to say. “Most of the citizens from other worlds are saying they should just leave us to our fate. Castor 5 is a penal colony. If we all die, then good riddance. We deserve it. And please keep that hush-hush. One careless word in the wrong ear… I don’t want to be the one who starts the fighting.”
Warren frowned. “Well, that’s helpful!” He sulked. “Where do they think all their precious fuel comes from?”
“We shoulda stayed on tha Chamberlin’s ship,” Morris muttered. “Much as I dinnae love tha backstabber, there was food an’ water. An’ at least air was in good store.”
Edgar frowned and shook her head. “He would’ve cast us out as soon as we knew it was him. He was never our friend.”
Warren had a dark look on his face and was rubbing his neck where the implant was located.
“Stop that!” Edgar scolded. “You’ll rub it raw.”
He gave her a black look but obeyed.
“I want it out,” he muttered. “No matter how much it helps. I want it gone. It wasn’t worth the price tag.”
Edgar went over to him and hugged him tight. Morris joined them.
Sprocket looked uncomfortable with their display of affection.
Edgar untangled herself and turned to Sprocket. “Any news from Daniel?” she asked.
They had seen little of their aquatic friend since deposited back on the surface. He had used his connections to follow the gossip between the dekas and drones. This had resulted in a good collection of supplies. He was always wandering, gathering, listening. He would show up at night wearing a brown leather hazmat suit for protection against the atmosphere which was everywhere now. He never had enough supplies for the mass of humanity which had gathered in the theatre so he had to be secretive. He had managed to find some filtered water and precious tea which Edgar and Morris hoarded like gold, doling out carefully measured portions. The
y counted the days by their supplies and how long they might last.
The four, including Sprocket had separated themselves from the other refugees, settling in the attic which the others shunned because of cracks letting in scant fumes. The rest had settled in the basement where they could get the battery to the air filtration system to work. It was a riskier place because of the threat of aftershocks. But no one wanted to live outdoors in tents. The fog was worse there, although outdoors was what the government had recommended.
About once a day they heard a ruckus from down below. Whenever the noise reached them, they would look to Warren to mentally eavesdrop. Usually it was because someone had been found with more bare essentials, hoarding and not sharing.
One of these times Morris looked at the rest and shook her head grimly. “It’s jes a matter o’ time afore they find us up ’ere and cum fer our stash,” she muttered.
“They don’t know we’re here,” Edgar reassured.
But Sprocket shook her head. “They’ll find us. And when they do, we’ll be cornered. You know I don’t like being cornered.”
“Somethin’s gotta give,” Warren mumbled.
Morris hissed cat-like in disapproval. “Look about ye, boy!” she admonished. “Something already has!”
“Stop it! All of you!” Edgar ordered. “Quit borrowing trouble.”
As if in answer to their words, the ground shuddered. They all gasped and braced themselves. The ground stilled. Everyone slowly began to breathe again. But no one spoke. It was as if they were afraid their argument had woken the quake gods.
“We need to get off this rock!” muttered Sprocket. “And as soon as possible!”
Warren only tsked at her and shook his head. “There are six million other people on this planet saying the very same thing.”
Chapter 12
“The arms of time are his dungeon and his vault”
Daniel woke Edgar in the wee hours of the morning. He motioned for her to come with him. A long finger held to his face in the right area, cautioned her to be silent. Wordlessly she followed him out into the murky darkness.
When they were outside and safely away from prying ears, he spoke. “You have heard the rumors that the dead have gone missing?”
On Castor 5, only the dekas had graveyards. Their dead were laid to rest in crypts and ornate mausoleums. The dead of the drone class were incinerated immediately.
Since the earthquake, survivors had been kept in certain safer areas. Most of the dekas and drones had been segregated and kept under a strict guard to separate refugee camps.
But Warren could listen in on both sides and the news from both factions was that the dead were disappearing and no one knew why.
Edgar nodded.
“Well, I’ve found out what became of them,” Daniel told her.
He motioned and she followed. He led her past wrecks of homes and businesses. They silently dodged guards on their nightly beat. They avoided spotlights and ducked under wires of forbidden zones.
Finally Daniel led her down a sewer tunnel. The darkness grew so dense she could not see. She stopped Daniel. He handed her a small black light. Another was clutched in his fist. He turned the light on himself and signed that she must keep their progress quiet. She nodded.
Presently he stopped at the intersection of three tunnels and motioned that she cast her beam forward. She crept to his side and crouched down beside him. The blue rays of her beam fell upon the naked shape of the Chamberlin.
She made a choking sound and dove back behind Daniel. He grabbed her by the arm and signed into the light’s beam, “Don’t worry. It can’t see the black light. It can’t see us. Stay quiet though.”
She took a deep breath of filtered air within her mask and crawled back to Daniel’s side. She aimed her beam now to where Daniel was pointing at something on the floor.
There were body bags lined up, row upon row of body bags.
One by one the Chamberlin was piling them onto a hover sledge of some sort. When the sledge was full, the creature climbed aboard, started up the motor and drove away.
“We find and collect the bodies, then it,” Daniel said softly, indicating the shadowed figure of the departing Chamberlin, “steals them when our backs are turned.”
“But why?” Edgar said. “What possible use could it have for our dead?”
The look on the eyes within Daniel’s gas mask was grim and hard. “Remember what it said about a lion’s cubs? Its million children need to eat.”
Horror seized Edgar.
“It’s… feeding our dead to its larvae?” she hissed.
Daniel simply nodded.
* * *
They returned to absolute bedlam among the population of drone refugees in the basement. Everyone was screaming and shouting. The district police had their hands full keeping people from forcing their way out the door. There was so much noise and commotion that Daniel and Edgar skipped that way and chose to enter the theatre from the outside.
A wrought iron fire escape spiraled its way up the outside of the building connecting to a door on each floor, even the attic. They wound their way up to their secret lodgings at the top and entered there.
Upon entering Edgar saw it was much the same in their chosen abode. Morris was swearing in Gaelic and throwing things. Warren was across the room from her watching with horrified eyes and ducking flying missiles whenever they came near.
Edgar dodged a teacup and it shattered on the wall behind her. She stood and managed to snare a frying pan as it came hurtling by and, using it for a shield, approached her partner.
“What the hell is going on around here?” she bellowed. “What’s happened now?”
Morris spun, her green eyes blazing. “They’re leaving us!” she screamed and cried all at once. “Tha dekas are pulling up stakes an’ gettin’ outta Dodge ’cause they can do that. But not us! Nae un wants tha drones! So they’re just throwin’ us out in tha rubbish! Nae drone is allowed off-world, jes those with connections like tha dekas. They’re leavin’ us ta choke and starve! We’re trapped here!”
Edgar looked at Warren. He nodded. “That’s why they’re rioting. All of Castor 5 knows the drones aren’t included in this evacuation. They’re leaving us to our fate.”
Edgar glanced around, doing a quick head count, and noticed one person was missing.
“Sprocket,” she said finally. “Where’s Sprocket?”
Warren nodded his chin to an adjoining room.
“The prop shop,” he said briefly.
Morris shrieked one last time and fell into a sobbing heap on the floor, her wild red locks barely cloaking her despair. Edgar barked at Warren and Daniel to see to her. She went to find Sprocket.
Edgar pushed aside a velvet curtain in the doorway that served to separate the rooms and there she found Sprocket. Where Morris’s frustration at their situation had blazed hot and explosive, Sprocket had become quiet and sad. She sat on the floor next to a lantern, arms hugging her knees. Before her was an oblong, narrow mirror in a floor frame. It had been covered with a drape but the fabric was now pushed aside.
“Come, Edgar,” Sprocket said in a quiet but distant voice. “Look what I have found. A mirror that doesn’t reflect.”
Edgar said nothing but curled up on the floor beside her, mirroring her position.
Sprocket said nothing for a long moment. She just stared at the black surface of the mirror without really seeing it.
“When did we become terms and not human beings?” she finally asked in a soft but sad voice.
Edgar heaved a heavy sigh and shook her head.
“I guess it’s easier for those in power to call us drones instead of people,” Edgar replied. “Those terms strip us of our humanity so then they feel justified in treating us like animals without rights.”
Sprocket sniffed. “They don’t even call us drones anymore,” she said. “They call us lemmings because we are marching to our own suicide, too stupid to know better.”
&n
bsp; There was a pause between them.
“I’m not a drone or a deka,” Edgar said.
Sprocket smiled. “Nor am I,” she agreed. “You’re like me, just a non-conformist who mixes with all the classes. We defy the box. And when someone tries to force us into a box, we hug the corners because we don’t really belong there to begin with.”
Edgar sniffed. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” she muttered. “If we’re not with them, we must be against them. So we’re lumped in with the other undesirables and gotten rid of along with the rest of the garbage so no one has to look us in the eye… so no one has to think about us. It’s just easier for them to do it that way. Less guilt… for them!”
“I am not a lemming,” Sprocket said in a whisper.
“Same here,” said Edgar.
Sprocket sighed. “Then… if we’re not lemmings… and we’re not drones… just what the hell are we?”
Edgar frowned. “We are the shadow people. We don’t exist in their eyes.” Her expression suddenly matched Sprocket’s. Edgar thought a moment, then continued, “The Chamberlin wanted me to start a revolution.”
Sprocket sniffed. “I think the mob beat you to it,” she said. “And I think this is more of an insurrection than a revolution.”
Edgar just shook her head. “Doesn’t matter,” she mused. “I want no part of this.”
Her friend shrugged. “You don’t have a choice. You won’t be able to avoid it. We’re surrounded.”
“No, not that way,” Edgar said. “The Chamberlin wanted us to start a revolution. I didn’t realize until now, why he wanted it. He needed more food for his kids.”
Sprocket’s face screwed up and she looked her in the eye. “Is that what’s happening to the dead?”
Edgar frowned and nodded. “Yes,” she replied. “I’ve seen it. We find them. He takes them. All the dead are in his nursery. We’re cannon fodder.”
Sprocket frowned and her eyes grew dark. “No giant bug… crustacean… thing is gonna eat me!” she insisted and the note of determination in her voice was encouraging to hear.
A Slice of Unkindness Page 12
