Repatriate Protocol Box Set

by Kelli Kimble

  “What’s happening?” I said.

  My mother squeezed my hand and let it go. “I did what I could,” she repeated. She moved forward.

  “Kneel,” he said.

  She dropped to one knee, the picture of grace.

  “Thank you for volunteering to go first,” said Adam. “I’m sure your village appreciates your sacrifice,” He raised his weapon.

  “First?” Her eyebrows clinched together. “You said you would hurt no one else—”

  The sound of the weapon being fired cut her off. Motion left her body, and it crumpled to the ground at gravity’s accord.

  After a few moments of disbelief, I found my voice. “Liar! He’s nothing but a liar! Don’t listen to him. He’s going to kill us all!”

  The villagers began to scatter, some drawing hidden weapons of their own, though they were only primitive slingshots, knives, and bows. The tankers shot into the crowd, their weapons making the harshest, ugliest noises imaginable. If my hands weren’t tied, I would have covered my ears like a child. Adam and Eve were enjoying the scene and didn’t seem to be paying attention to me. I went to my mother. Her eyes were open, but she was already gone. Adam hadn’t been bluffing about a direct hit. I fell to my knees over her and buried my face against her stomach. I breathed in her familiar smell, a combination of honeysuckle and cotton. I cried, the chaos around me insulating me, not allowing anyone to witness my grief.

  “Fiona,” Adam was standing on the other side of her. I could see his boots through my hair. “Look at me, Fiona.”

  I wiped my face across the robes, trying to compose myself. I lifted my face and opened my eyes.

  He was pointing his gun right at me. “Don’t worry. It’s on a non-lethal setting.”

  He smiled and squeezed the trigger.

  The wave was deafening. It passed through my body. I felt as if my physical form had moved an inch to the side of my soul, and then snapped back into place.

  There was a second wave, this one subtler than the first.

  And then, nothing.

  Chapter 10

  I opened my eyes, but the light was bright, so I squinted them shut. My ears were still ringing from the sonic weapon, but I could feel that I was outside. The sun was shining, a breeze was blowing, and I could smell animal dung in the distance.

  It was my own village.

  I sat upright and looked around. Off in the distance, someone was lighting a huge fire. It was piled with something solid-looking and strange. It wasn’t wood. I stood and noticed that the cord binding my hands was gone. I rubbed at the raw skin where the cord had bitten into my wrists. I took a few stumbling steps towards the fire. Something compelled me to move towards it.

  I tripped over something and looked down. It was a person.

  A dead person.

  A spark of recognition lit my brain. I knew this person. Who was it?

  I stepped over him and continued towards the fire, but I’d only taken a few more steps when I understood what was on the fire.

  It was bodies. Villager bodies.

  I started to run, but I tripped over someone else. I fell. When my attention wasn’t so focused on the fire, I recognized that the ground was littered with bodies.

  “No,” I said. I stood and started to move towards the fire again, picking my way around the people I knew. People I’d eaten meals with, woven cloth for, and led to freedom. “No, no, no . . .”

  I was finally at the fire. The smoke was black and smelled like burning hair. Near me, a pair of tankers were lifting bodies together, swinging them by their arms and legs, then tossing them into the flames. I rushed at them and snatched a rock from the ground, then threw it at the one closest to me. Primal sounds that must have been screams were coming from me.

  The tanker I’d hit with the rock dropped the dead villager’s legs. They belonged to Meena, the newlywed.

  “Oh, good,” sighed the tanker. “I thought we’d accidentally burned you.”

  Out of nowhere, Eve appeared. “Restrain her. What are you two idiots doing? Letting her run around like this?”

  The two tankers rushed to get a binding and do as she’d asked.

  I stood, staring at Meena’s body, my chest heaving from the effort of running across the field. “You killed them all,” I said.

  “Yep.”

  “Human beings. You killed all these people.”

  “I don’t see your point.”

  “How can you have no remorse for this?”

  “Remorse is for the weak. For people like you.”

  I launched myself at her, but she was younger, stronger, and more agile. She easily pushed me to the ground and stomped her foot on my chest. “I told you two to restrain her. Where is her binding?” Someone scuttled up to Eve and thrust a length of rope out to her. “I’m holding her down, you idiot. You tie her.”

  The tanker complied, roughly pulling my arms towards him and lashing them together.

  Eve gave a quick thrust of her boot against my chest and backed away. “Get her into one of the rovers. I’m taking her back to the mountain.”

  The two tankers lifted me. They didn’t let me get my feet under me; instead, they simply dragged me to a nearby rover. One opened the box on the back, and they shoved me inside. It banged shut, and I heard a bolt or a lock slide home. I pushed against the lid, but it wouldn’t move.

  There was a bang against the lid of the box.

  “Comfortable enough in there for you, primitive?” Laughter followed, and it faded as they moved away. Not long after, I felt the soft vibration of the engine, and the shift in my balance as we started to move.

  It wouldn’t be a long ride, only a few hours. I curled into a ball in a corner of the box and tried to get some rest.

  ◆◆◆

  The rover door slamming woke me sometime later. My neck was stiff, I was incredibly thirsty and hungry, and my body felt as if I were 100 years old. I thought about the strength of the tankers, and realized I might as well have been that old. I’d not defeat them in a physical battle.

  Eventually, someone opened the box. “Fiona?” said a familiar voice.

  I tipped my head up to look out. The sunlight backlit his face, but I could clearly make out Swen’s bookish profile.

  “Swen?”

  He sighed. “I was so worried when they brought back Port. They tortured him but . . .” His hands were shaking uncontrollably. “I—I don’t think he broke. He didn’t tell them that I helped you. You can’t tell them, either. If they find out—If they find out—Oh, Lord. You can’t tell them.”

  I suppressed the urge to slap him for his cowardice. “Port’s alive?”

  He glanced around. “I think so. They took him to the lower-level cells.”

  “What are they planning?”

  “They’ve already taken both villages. They’re packing up to move everyone who is able-bodied outside. Only younger people are left now. Well, there are a few exceptions. Like Willow.”

  “Does Willow know I’m here?”

  He nodded. “I’m supposed to bring you inside. Can you act it up? Resist?”

  He reached down into the box, and I kicked his hands away. “I can get out myself!” I yelled.

  His eyes widened in momentary surprise. Catching on, he backed up. “Then, get on with it. I’ve got better things to worry about,” he said stiffly.

  I climbed from the box with some difficulty. My legs almost wouldn’t bear my weight when I jumped to the ground. Swen caught my arm and lifted.

  I used his support until I didn’t need it, then shook him off. “I can do it myself.”

  He grabbed my shirt and marched me into the mountain. We descended to the lower levels. I craned my neck at each corner and each door, hoping for a glimpse of Port. There was nothing to see.

  He deposited me into an empty cell. “I’m sorry about this,” he whispered. “I wanted you to win.”

  “I’m not dead yet, Swen.”

  He nodded once. “I’ll do what I
can.”

  “Thanks.”

  He shut the door and engaged the lock with a switch on the opposite wall.

  “Hey, can you untie this rope before you go?” I pushed my hands through the bars.

  He rolled his eyes. “You are one high-maintenance prisoner,” he said. He tried to untie me but couldn’t get the knot free. He drew a knife from his pocket and unfolded the small blade. With some effort, he cut through a loop of the rope with it. He didn’t remove the rope; instead, he folded the blade carefully and made a show of putting it back into his pocket. Then, when he unwound the ropes from my wrist, I felt it against my palm.

  He dropped it into my hand and drew the ropes away. “Satisfied?” he said, scowling.

  “Can I have something to drink? Or eat?” I asked.

  He walked away without answering. Not long after that, a woman brought a tray of food for me. “Hey,” I said to her. “Why is Adam keeping me alive?”

  She shrugged. “Adam does his own thing.”

  “Are you a tanker?”

  “No.” She hesitated for a moment. “I’m from a tank. But not like him.”

  “Oh.” I dug into the food, not caring that I might have seemed crude. I was starving.

  “I don’t want him to win, either.”

  It took a moment for me to register what she’d said. By the time I looked up, she was gone.

  Maybe there was hope after all.

  ◆◆◆

  Days passed. I tracked the time by the meals that were brought. Even that didn’t seem accurate, because some days, I was starving by the time a meal came, and sometimes, I felt like I’d just eaten.

  I asked about Port and Adam’s intentions at every meal. Either nobody knew, or they’d been instructed not to answer. I rarely saw the woman who’d been sympathetic. I wondered if someone had suspected that she wasn’t loyal to Adam. Not Adam himself, of course. He was too confident to believe anyone could have an impact on his desires.

  Then, with no explanation, a meal came, and the door stayed open. The man who brought the tray set it on the floor in its usual spot and slid it under the bars. Then, he pushed the lock button on the opposite wall, swung the door open, and stood there, looking at me.

  After a minute, he simply walked away.

  “Hey!” I called after him. “Am I allowed out?”

  He didn’t answer. I abandoned the tray and tried to follow him, but he was too far ahead, and I must have missed a turn. I wandered the halls and saw many cells. I came across the cell I’d been held in, so many years before. The leak had never been fixed, and large chunks of cement were missing from the ceiling, where the dripping had weakened it. Rust stains surrounded the damaged area and spread on the floor.

  I found the stairs, and I took them up to the level that I knew held the commissary. I didn’t run into any people, and it was eerily quiet. I made a few false starts before finally finding the commissary. It was empty.

  I went to Leo’s office. The outer-office door was propped open, and I poked my head in cautiously.

  Swen was sitting at the desk. “Fiona, I was wondering when you’d come up,” he said without looking at me.

  I entered the room and approached his desk. “I don’t understand. Am I a prisoner or not?”

  “Yes and no. You don’t have to stay in the cell anymore. You can’t go outside right now. Not until Adam comes back. He’s at your village, supervising the building of his home.”

  I bristled. “What’s wrong with the homes already there? They aren’t good enough for him?”

  Swen shrugged. “You seem surprised.”

  “No, I guess I’m not surprised. Where is everyone? And what about Port?”

  “All the tankers are outside. Most everyone else is afraid of the sickness, so they’re outside, too.”

  “You’re not.”

  “Nope.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  He looked away. “Willow asked me to bring you to her place if you came upstairs. You want to go there now?”

  I wanted to press him. I knew I could easily intimidate him into telling me why he wasn’t afraid of the sickness. Why had he ignored my question about Port?

  Something told me to let it go. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. I’d like to see her.”

  Willow welcomed both of us into her apartment, but Swen demurred. “I have work to do,” he said and retreated down the hallway.

  “Suit yourself,” Willow said. She hugged me. “You don’t look too worse for the wear.”

  “Physically, I feel terrible. Mentally, I feel pretty numb,” I said.

  “I’m sorry about your mother,” she said.

  “Me, too. And the villages. I didn’t get there in time.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. Adam would have killed everyone, regardless of what you did.”

  “Not if I’d killed the bastard first.”

  “That isn’t like you.”

  “I’ve killed in defense of my people before,” I said. “I failed them. I failed my people, my mother’s people, and the people in here who don’t want Adam in charge. I failed, literally, the entire human race.”

  “Adam’s people seem pretty happy with how it’s going,” she said, playfully punching my arm.

  “They don’t count as humans.”

  “Mm. Scientifically, they do.”

  “Well, I don’t buy it. You can’t mix up a human in a bowl.”

  She shrugged. “That isn’t why I asked Swen to bring you here.” She motioned to the well-worn couch. “Let’s sit.” She patted my knee once, then gripped it. “I have a confession to make,” she said.

  I gasped. “You know where Port is?”

  “No. I’m afraid nobody seems to know where he is, and I’m sorry to say that is probably not a good sign, Fiona. What I have to confess is much worse.”

  I pushed down her admission about Port. He was dead. Nobody was going to admit it, but everyone believed it.

  “I caused the sickness,” she said.

  I stared at her. “What?”

  “When Leo started the program to advance the tank usage, I objected. I didn’t make a big fuss; I just went to his office and begged him not to do it. I was afraid that we’d create monstrosities, and that we’d be ill-equipped to understand them psychologically. Because you’re right. You can’t just upload the human experience.

  “He wouldn’t listen. And I didn’t try to widen my objection, because at the time, everyone still loved Leo. They wanted to do what he asked. The research started, and they went about shortening the childhood and pubescent periods.

  “I could tell that the first batch—the ones who were still kids when they came out—I could tell they were different. Not bad-different. But rather, sort of cold and distant. And why shouldn’t they have been? They were denied contact, cuddling, and love of any sort. What does that do to a person?”

  She stopped and stared off into space for a moment. “I decided it had to stop. But still, nobody wanted to defy Leo. And I figured, well, I’m a scientist. I can figure a way out of this scientifically. I did some research and discovered a 20th-century outbreak of something called Bovine spongiform encephalopathy. It was a disease introduced into the food chain by cattle that were fed ground-up, tainted meats.”

  She started to shake a little. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I . . . I violated the bodies of people who died. I removed their blood and organs and put it into the spiro. In small quantities at first, because it changed the taste slightly. But, people got used to it, and as they did, I put more and more into the supply. I poisoned all those people.”

  I studied my hands for a moment. They looked old—older than the last time I’d really looked. “Then, why did only the older people get sick?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not sure. My theory is that the older people were more inclined to drink the spiro.”

  “Are you still doing it?”

  “No. When I went to your village, I realized I couldn’t see it through. I coul
dn’t end it all.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “End what?”

  Her eyes welled with unshed tears. “Humanity.”

  “You wanted to kill everyone? Even the villagers?”

  “Yes. But then, when I visited, I realized the people in the village were real human beings, with feelings and souls and faith. But, because of me, they’re all dead.”

  “No, not because of you.” I squeezed her hand. “Adam did that. Adam’s responsible for all the deaths out there.”

  She made a sound that was probably meant to be a laugh. “I suppose that’s true. But, I sure killed plenty in here.”

  “Someone must have helped you. Right?”

  “I did it all on my own. Although, I warned a few people not to drink it. People who I knew didn’t agree with the tank experiments—even if they wouldn’t raise their voice against Leo.” She clutched at my hand. “Can you ever forgive me? For what I did?”

  I patted her hand. “This isn’t for me to forgive,” I said.

  ◆◆◆

  I spent my days wandering the mountain, hoping that I’d find Port. I asked everyone I ran into if they knew about him, or where he was. There were very few left inside—maybe as few as 20 or 30 people—so there weren’t a lot of opportunities to ask.

  I spent a lot of time with Swen and Willow. They both still had hopes that I would somehow free them from Adam. But, my numbing grief over my mother, the village, and Port kept me from rising to their thinly-veiled challenges.

  Then, Adam came home.

  He found me alone in the commissary. “Fiona, what a lovely surprise. I do hope you’re making yourself at home.” He sat across from me and smiled. A spike of emotion caught me by surprise, and I gasped at how sharp it felt. “Ah, glad to see me, then.” He signaled to one of the Tankers at the door to bring him something to eat. “I’ll be happy to join you.”

  “You killed my mother,” I said.

  He nodded. “You’re right. I did do that. And a whole lot of other people, too. I did promise to do that. I wouldn’t want to break a promise.”

  “Where’s Port?”

  “Ah, the infamous Port. I’m not exactly sure of his whereabouts. We did catch him, you see. Outside, when you two were making your naughty little getaway. You had some help with that, didn’t you?” He wagged his finger at me, then said, “This is a good story. Let me tell you what happened.” A tanker set a plate of food in front of him. “Dinner and a story. This’ll be great.”