by G J Ogden
“You want me to shoot you, red hair, I understand,” said Kurren, through gritted teeth, “and believe me, I’d love nothing more. But you’re more useful to me alive; at least for now.” Then he straightened and raised his weapon smartly in the direction of Elijah. “However, the same cannot be said for your friends.”
Summer’s skin turned to ice. She was ready to die, but now Elijah’s life hung in the balance. Every natural impulse in her body resisted the urge to relent and to give in to Kurren’s demand, but she could not allow him to kill Elijah.
Kurren studied her reaction, and for the first time he could see the conflict in the young woman’s eyes – a weakening of her resolve – and he knew he had uncovered her vulnerability.
“Wait!” cried Summer. “I’ll do what you want!”
“Yes,” said Kurren, “I know you will.”
The sound of the gunshot bounced off the smashed and crumbling stone walls. Summer dove towards Elijah, struggling with all her strength against a soldier who was trying to grapple her away from the body lying in the dust of the courtyard. A second soldier joined the effort, but even this was not enough, and Summer broke free, dragging herself through the dirt until she was finally held less than an arm’s reach away from the lifeless body of Elijah, staring out with glassy eyes, slumped on top of the body of his mother. Summer’s screams filled the void that remained once the sound of the gunshot had faded; she shut her eyes, trying to force out the image in her head, but she saw it over and over again, repeating in her mind like a wasp colliding with the inside of an upturned jar, unable to escape.
“Bring me another!” Kurren snarled, and moments later, the bedraggled form of Administrator Talia was dragged to the center of the circle and pushed to her knees next to the bodies of Elijah and Katie. But Summer could only see Elijah – not Elijah the ranger, but Elijah the dreamer; the innocent and perfect little boy she once knew. A boy who had somehow not been tainted by their contaminated world, and whose life had now been extinguished by a relic of the civilization that destroyed it.
Kurren pressed the barrel of his weapon to the side of Talia’s head and then looked Summer in the eyes.
“Summer...” cried Talia, her voice frail and unsteady, “Summer, help me!”
The words reached Summer, but only distantly. She could still only see Elijah and was numb to everything else that was going on around her. Talia’s pleas again filled the space between them, and this time Summer looked up and met the older woman’s eyes, swollen and red with tears. She saw the weapon pressed to Talia’s head, and her senses switched back on, like an animal suddenly becoming aware of a predator closing in for the kill. She reached out to Talia, but her hand was pulled away, and she roared, a primal mix of frustration, rage, guilt, and her own lust to kill – to strike back at those who had caused her such agony.
She glared at Kurren and his murky, greying eyes stared back, still shining with a faint flicker of life. He had not yet been fully corrupted by the rot which had begun to twist his DNA, but part of this man was now the same as the maddened creatures that plagued the planet. She wanted to fight back, and Summer vowed in that moment that if she lived, she would end his life. All she could do now, though, was try to spare the lives of others. All she could do was surrender.
“Enough!” shouted Summer. “I’ll do what you want, just end this!”
“I’ll end it when I choose to end it, red hair,” Kurren snarled, “and your lesson isn’t over yet. Let’s try again...” Kurren fired and Summer felt the wetness of hot blood sting her face. Talia’s body slumped to the dirt next to Elijah and Summer screamed again; a scream that could have been mistaken for the howl of the maddened. She struggled again against the grip of the soldiers holding her, but still she could not break free. Exhausted, she gave up and folded to her knees. A stream of blood flowed towards her, mixing with Elijah’s which had already started to soak into the soil, leaving behind a dark black stain. Anger still raged inside her, leaving no room for grief, but she could not bear any more killing.
“Bring me another,” said Kurren, coldly.
Summer looked up and shook her head. “No more! You’ve won, I’ll help you willingly, please!”
A young girl, no more than fifteen or sixteen, was dragged in front of Kurren and pushed to her knees. Kurren looked at her small, trembling body, but felt nothing. He clicked back the hammer on his sidearm.
“Sir!” The call was from Lieutenant Nurem; the tone of his voice was as rigid as his body.
Kurren lowered the weapon to his side. “What is it, Lieutenant?” he answered, annoyed by the interruption.
“We’ve monitored a power surge, sir,” said Nurem, glancing briefly at the bodies on the ground and at the girl trembling before the General. Nurem had no compunctions about killing, but the prisoner he had executed earlier had been an enemy combatant and a traitor. The callous cruelty that Kurren was now displaying shocked even him.
“What sort of power surge?”
“It’s artificial, stronger even than the generator in the space port. If we get closer to the source, we might be able to narrow it to a specific location.”
Kurren didn’t answer immediately, and instead continued to look down at the girl. The expression on his face had altered, and to Nurem it now looked as though he was confused about where he was and what he was doing, as if he had just woken from a sleepwalk.
“Sir, the power surge,” Nurem said again, conscious to not let Kurren restart his murderous endeavors. “We need to move fast, before the readings are lost.”
Kurren released the hammer and holstered the weapon. “Very well, get the men ready to move, Lieutenant,” he said, and then returned his eyes to the girl cowering on her knees, trying to recall why she was there.
“Sir, perhaps we should bring some prisoners?” added Nurem, trying again to rouse the General from his stupor. “We could use them to bargain with.”
Kurren looked at Nurem, and then down at the girl, and then back at Nurem. “Just bring the red head,” he said flatly. “We don’t need any others.” Then without another word, he began walking back towards the transports, stepping over the bodies of Elijah, Katie and Talia as if they were simple obstacles in his way, leaving dark red footprints in his wake.
“Yes, sir,” exhaled Nurem, feeling his body start to relax, but Kurren had already gone. Then he turned to the soldiers holding Summer. “Put her in the transport,” then he paused and added as an afterthought, “but not the one that General Kurren is in.”
The two soldiers lifted Summer and started to push her towards the transport. She went along with them and waited until they loosened their grips, and then she shook free, elbowing the first in the groin, sending him crashing to the dirt, and jabbing the second in the throat with the flat of her hand. He fell to his knees, gasping for breath, but Summer did not run, and did not follow up her attacks; she simply stood with her arms at her side between the incapacitated soldiers, and looked fiercely into Nurem’s surprised eyes.
“Don’t make me do it, lady,” said Nurem, watching Summer carefully. “I’m only here for the UEC traitors. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“No-one made you do any of this,” said Summer, bitterly. “You did it all by yourself.”
“I’ll shoot if I have to,” Nurem said, “but enough people have died here already.”
“I will come with you,” replied Summer, her voice as cold and lifeless as the bodies behind her, “but know that I will kill him for what he’s done here, and I’ll kill you too, if you get in my way.”
To Nurem’s surprise the threat felt very real. He didn’t know how to respond, but felt he had to say something, in order not to appear weak. “I’m just doing my duty,” he said.
Summer shook her head. “Doing your duty...” she repeated the words back to him as if they were the three most idiotic words ever spoken. Then she pointed to the bodies of Talia, Katie and Elijah. “I hope you feel proud.”
She turned
and walked towards the transport, with Lieutenant Nurem escorting close behind.
Chapter 29
The generators fired up, feeding energy into the sub-surface city block and bringing it to life for the first time in generations. To Maria it seemed like the entire cavern trembled. Lights flicked on high above them, casting a glow like early-morning sunlight over the pristine buildings and the smooth streets. The resemblance to the domed precincts on the UEC moon base was now unmistakable, thought Maria, and even a little surreal.
Maria was standing with Gaia, observing a thin line of children filing into a large structure that was originally intended to become the city’s museum, but now served a different purpose as a temporary hostel. Ethan, Page and the others were inside, helping the survivors get settled, but with two hundred and ninety-six children and less than fifty adults, even accounting for Ethan, Page, Maria and all the scientists and engineers, adjusting to this new life would not be easy, for everyone involved.
“There are so few,” commented Maria.
Gaia cocked an eye at her and smiled. “How funny, I was just thinking the exact opposite.”
Maria laughed, though it was meant kindly. “How so? This city is huge. It was built to accommodate thousands.”
Gaia suddenly became more serious. “Until you arrived, Maria, I thought that the ten of us down here were the last uncorrupted people alive, and not only on the planet. We believed the space station to have been destroyed when the refinery collapsed, and the moon base too. But now, seeing all of these children, and knowing there are settlements thriving on the surface… well, the world suddenly feels a lot bigger to me. And I feel more alive than I have in a long time.”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” said Maria. “I’m still struggling to understand the scale of what we’ve lost. It’s hard for me see any positives right now.”
“We cannot change what is past,” said Gaia, “but that line of children at least gives us hope for a brighter future. They are alive, and it is all because of you.”
Maria turned back to the line of children. She wanted to be as optimistic as Gaia, but she could not see past Kurren and the danger he threatened, and she still could not get past her own guilt. “I hope you’re right,” she said, so quietly that Gaia almost did not hear.
“Your friend, Diana, she dreamed of one day reuniting with the people of this planet, correct?”
The question surprised Maria, and she glanced back at the curious older woman. “Yes, that’s right.”
“These children will grow up as planetsiders. It may not be exactly what she, or you, had hoped for, but it is a wonderful thing, nonetheless, despite the tragic circumstances in which they arrived here. You should feel proud, Maria.”
Maria smiled, politely, and turned away again. She appreciated Gaia’s sentiment, but the truth was that she still blamed herself for allowing Kurren to destroy GPS, and nothing she did now or in the future would erase her shame and guilt over that. “They aren’t safe yet,” she said, moving the conversation on. “General Kurren is still out there and he won’t stop, unless I stop him first.”
“Kurren?” said Gaia. The rising intonation suggested surprise, as did her expression.
“Yes, General James Kurren,” replied Maria, realizing that neither she nor Ethan had actually mentioned his name before. “He’s the soldier who destroyed the GPS space station, and the one who’s looking for us now.”
Gaia laughed, though it was out of surprise, rather than amusement. “And so the mystery unravels...”
“I don’t understand,” said Maria. “You know the name?”
Maria was then distracted by the sight of Ethan approaching, accompanied by a woman. As they got closer, Maria recognized her as Ann Kurren, the General’s estranged wife.
Gaia saw them too. “I will explain later,” she said, “there is something I must show you, but it can wait.”
Maria was about to protest and ask that Gaia explain her cryptic reference now, but Ethan and Ann were almost upon them, so she grudgingly agreed to pick up the matter later. So much had happened so quickly that Maria had forgotten about Ann Kurren, and seeing her again brought forth mixed emotions. She bore no ill-will towards the woman, but her presence was a complication, and Maria also hated herself for considering the idea of using Ann as currency to barter with. Nevertheless, it was an option she could not discount. When you’re forced to fight in the mud, you can’t avoid getting dirty, Maria thought. It was an uncomfortable truth, but considering their perilous situation, the right thing to do may not be the righteous thing to do.
“Hey, Sal,” said Ethan in such a care-free way that Maria could not help but smile. Ethan always seemed to radiate optimism. “This lady wanted to speak with you, personally. I didn’t ask why. Her name is Ann.”
“Thanks, Ethan,” said Maria. “How are you all getting on down there?”
Ethan looked back over his shoulder as the last of the survivors, guided by Major Page, were being ushered through a huge double door. Inside the building the scientists and engineers had organized tables with food, and Kia had also set up a temporary medical center to ensure the survivors’ toxicity levels were checked and managed, as well as patching up any other minor cuts and scrapes. “It’s going well. I think we’re all glad to be somewhere safe. Can you believe that this place was going to be a museum? I think that’s sort of poetic.”
Maria frowned. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“Yuna told me that a museum is a place where you display objects from the past, so you can look back and remember how things used to be, and also so that you don’t forget where you came from.”
“I still don’t follow…”
Ethan shook his head in dismay. “Come on, Sal, think about it. The children in there are the future now, free from the GPS and UEC. This place is a now a museum of the future.”
Maria nodded, thoughtfully, but in a mildly exaggerated manner that suggested sarcasm. “Okay, sure… I get it, now. It’s very poetic.”
“Just stick to flying space ships, Sal…” said Ethan, trying and failing to prevent his lips from curling into a smirk. “Anyway, I’ll leave Ann with you and get back to my more poetic matters.” Ethan acknowledged Gaia with a respectful nod and then returned down the path to the museum building to continue assisting the others.
Ann Kurren was looking slightly off to the side of Maria and continuously unbuttoning and buttoning the cuff of the olive green shirt that she had been given after passing through decontamination. The fabric of the shirt rose and fell in time with her shallow breaths, and she tried and failed to speak three times, before finally getting her words out. “I just wanted to thank you,” she eventually blurted out. “I know you must not want me here, and that I have made things more difficult for you. So I just wanted you to know how much it means to me, and to my boys, that you treated us no differently than the others.” Then she paused and again fidgeted with her cuff, before adding, “And also to thank you for not telling the others who I am.”
Preserving Ann Kurren’s anonymity hadn’t been done as a kindness. If the others knew who she was then Ann might have come under attack, and she couldn’t cope with fighting Kurren while they were also fighting each other. As much as Maria would rather Ann Kurren not be here, her decisions regarding her required cold calculation, not heated emotion.
Maria wondered how much Ann’s sons actually knew about their father’s crimes. Ann must have explained something about why she had taken them away, and she wondered how they felt about it. Were they angry at their father, and appalled by his actions, or simply distressed at being separated from him? Maria did not have children and so could not empathize, but despite the monster that Kurren had become, he was still their father, and somewhere in his calloused soul, he must have love for his sons, if not their mother. Perhaps seeing them again would reach him somehow, and make him call off his vengeful pursuit. Or maybe he was already too far gone, consumed by the darkness that had alre
ady led him to commit genocide. Time would tell, thought Maria.
“There’s really no need to thank me, Ann. But, I appreciate you saying so, all the same. Now, go and get some rest and be with your family, okay?”
Ann nodded and thanked Maria again, and then thanked Gaia too, seemingly for no other reason than that she was there, before following the path back to the museum.
“I thought it was kind of poetic,” said Gaia, idly.
“Excuse me?” said Maria.
“What Ethan said earlier. I think he is right.”
“Well, you two will get on famously then, I’m sure,” Maria laughed.
“This city was built to sustain life but it has lain dormant, until now.” Gaia went on. “Besides the birth of my daughters, all we have ever experienced is death and gradual decay.”
“I’m sorry, I was being insensitive.”
“No, not at all, I was not lamenting our situation; we have kept busy and lived well. Far too well, compared to those on the surface. But also in ignorance. If I appear dismayed, it is simply because of the opportunities we have missed to help nurture the life that fights on outside this cocoon of ours.”
Maria considered mentioning how the planetsiders would probably not welcome their sudden appearance, because like her these scientists represented a link to the past; a past that those on the surface still feared. But she did not want to dampen Gaia’s spirits, and instead chose a more optimistic response. “There’s still time. You have a chance now to plant a seed for the future, and to watch new life grow.” Perhaps Ethan’s influence had been rubbing off on her, she thought.
