by Ran Vant
Katherine looked down to watch her step as she hopped over a small stream. When she looked up, she saw the black shape standing there, dark wings still spread wide.
Conan suddenly saw the gargoyle and raised his rail gun to his shoulder. Michael already had his fist pointed forward. A stun beam pulsed from his gauntleted hand, knocking Conan to the ground unconscious.
Katherine stood frozen staring at the huge gargoyle before her. Thunder barked aggressively.
Lightbringer looked back at the girl.
Time seemed to freeze.
A shadow passed overhead.
Michael felt a slight buzzing in his mind. Something about her... no, it couldn't be her. She wasn't the one they were looking for. He was certain.
He didn't even double-check the scanner. He leapt into the sky and was gone.
15.
Odin Rules
There was a flurry of activity in Pete's community room upon their return and Conan's report.
“Did it touch you? Did you feel anything?” Alaric asked.
“No, it just looked at me for a second, and then flew away,” Katherine explained.
“Would she even remember if it happened, Alaric?” Odin asked.
Alaric answered, “I would think there would be some discontinuity.”
“But you can't know for sure, can you? None of us can.”
“No, Odin, we can't know for sure. But there are probabilities-”
“We can't risk the whole community based on probabilities,” Odin stated.
“But...” Alaric tried to explain that everything was based on probabilities. There were no certainties. One had to take calculated risks.
“No. This risk is too great. If you are wrong, it could mean everything. Lothar and Katherine must leave. I'm sorry, but this is more than coincidence. They have to move on.”
16.
No Closer to Home?
Once again, Katherine was hiking through the endless plains and rolling hills of grasses only broken by the occasional oasis of oaks. As a child she had walked across the plains, and now as a young woman she was doing it once again. She had been Clara, then she became Katherine. Was she about to become someone else? It hurt to be rejected and thrown out of the settlement. Her father tried to explain that wasn’t what happened at all, but it sure felt like it to Katherine. Maybe she was a foreigner the whole time after all. Maybe Brian was right. Years had passed since they fled to the Refuge Territories, and they were no closer to home. Indeed, they were walking farther away.
Then she thought about Meredith. Lock and Heidi. Edda. Cone. Thunder. Even Brian. It was a home, wasn’t it? Maybe the years she had spent in the R.T. under a new name were as close to something called a home as she would ever have. Or maybe there no longer was a home and never would be. Maybe home was a false concept, a mirage in the distance, a trick of the mind about the past, or an unrealistic dream of the future. The thoughts sat there for a moment, before she shook her head in rejection. She tried to banish the thoughts from her mind. She wouldn't accept that it could be gone, or that it could never be found. No. They would find it. They would find a new home. It could be done. They had loved her, she just had to go. That was the flawed world they lived in. They didn’t love her less. It was just that she was… too dangerous.
It was a long way across the R.T. to the Towers, but maybe a new home was there. Or maybe home was farther still, beyond the Towers. She just had to keep walking. Eventually, she must find it.
“Don't you think we could go back to the city?” Katherine asked her father, knowing in her heart of hearts the impossibility of it. For now.
“I'm afraid too many people would recognize me there. You'd probably be all right because you've grown so much. But I'm afraid I won't ever be able to go back.”
“Well, I'm not going back without you.” She looked up to the blue sky. A black bird circled in the cloudless sky. There was no fortress in sight, no winged gargoyles, no machines.
“We never know what lies over the next hill, my daughter.”
“Hey, Jimbo is waving us over,” Katherine noted. She wished it were Cone, but Odin wouldn't let him come along. As they were leaving, Conan had to restrain Thunder. Katherine had never seen the dog bark so much as when they were walking away. It broke her heart. So, they were on the trail again, with just Jimbo and Dave Man to accompany them part of the way.
“Guess we'll be taking a break in that oasis.”
“The shade will be nice. I could use a drink of water, too.”
They walked over to the cluster of oaks. Dave Man met them there.
“We can go with you through tomorrow morning, then we need to head back to Pete,” Jimbo offered.
“I understand,” Lothar said. The black bird landed in an oak and crowed.
“We'd go with you farther,” Dave Man explained, “but Odin is really concerned about the garg activity and gave us a deadline. He wants as many men there as possible.”
“I understand,” Lothar said again. Self-preservation. He didn't blame Odin. He might do the same thing in his position. He would have preferred for Odin to let Alaric accompany them. There was much that should have been discussed between Lothar and Alaric, but that couldn't be talked about among others. Only they knew what Katherine meant. What Clara meant. Only they knew why some wanted to steal her and why others wanted to kill her, why both gen and trud sought possession of her. Only they knew why her mother had been killed. Now it was just Alaric and Lothar left. And Katherine.
But the discussions with Alaric would have to wait. In a short time, Alaric would find an excuse and Odin would let him disappear for a while. Alaric would find his way to the Towers. Then they could come up with a better plan. A better hiding place. But for now, the Towers would have to do. Lothar knew a few people in the Towers. It wasn't ideal, but nothing was. They would make it. They would survive. Any way they could.
Dave Man unwrapped some jerky and offered it to the others. He sat down and took a big bite out of the salted and dried meat. Then he moaned.
Katherine looked up to see a large wooden spear protruding from Dave Man's chest.
The Fanatics let loose a bloodcurdling howl. The black bird screeched and took flight.
Lothar reached for his weapon, but an atic emerged from the brush behind him, clubbing him in the head with a heavy knotted oak baton. Lothar fell forward, unconscious. Just as quickly as he had appeared, the naked atic fled back into the brush.
Katherine screamed.
Jimbo held his rifle at the ready, turning left and right, but did not see any atics.
The Fanatics howled again.
Jimbo saw a shape run through the woods and fired a round in its direction. “I'm right here, monkeys! Come get me!” Jimbo fired another round into the brush.
Katherine went to her father's side. Blood streamed from the gash on his head. She shook him, but he did not respond.
Jimbo spoke, “Katherine, get Dave's gun. We have to go.”
“I'm not leaving my dad.”
“We can come back, right now we need to get someplace defensible.”
“I said I'm not leaving him!”
“You can't help him if you're dead,” Jimbo said, all the while scanning the woods.
Just then, an atic crashed through the thick brush towards Katherine, club in hand. Jimbo shot him in the face. The atic fell dead at Katherine's side.
“Let's go!” Jimbo yelled.
Katherine ran over, grabbed Dave's gun, and followed Jimbo as they ran through the woods towards the grassy hills.
Another atic jumped in front of them on the path, screaming at the top of her lungs. Jimbo shot her twice. She fell to her knees, still screaming as loud as she could as dark blood began to gush in spurts from the wounds.
The two kept running. As they passed a large oak, two atics leaped down from the branches. One broke his leg, but continued to howl and crawl after them. The other one was fast and before Jimbo could turn his rifle toward
s him, the atic had tackled Jimbo. The two fell to the ground, wrestling. The two rolled over into a ravine and out of Katherine's sight.
“Jimbo!” she yelled. She heard no response.
But another atic was closing in on her. She fired Dave's heavy gun once, but missed. And now the atic was upon her. The atic knocked the gun from her hand. Katherine felt his putrid breath as the atic yelled in her face. Then the atic punched her in the face and she fell to the ground. The atic raised his arms. Katherine closed her eyes as his arms came down for the final blow.
17.
Congratulations
“Well, Red, congratulations are in order. You finally have the True Core's database.”
“Part of it,” Red corrected her.
“If it contains what we think it contains, it will be enough,” Blue said.
“Yes, it makes the Big Project possible. It would have taken us years to figure all of it out. This database answers so many questions... We should have seized it years ago, if only we knew where to look. But we have it now. And not too soon either, if the rumors about the Event are true.”
“All my sources point in that direction,” Blue said. “The gens actually want to finally get rid of us. And they're going to do it, with this so-called Event, whatever it is. We know that in the minds of the gens, the Event means no more truds to worry about. The Big Project needs to go forward before the gens launch their Event. We’ll knock them out before they have a chance to do the same to us. Intel isn't clear on how much time we have before the Event, but it seems to be big and complex enough that we are thankfully talking years, not weeks or months. Nevertheless, there is no time to waste.”
“Agreed. Our own plan could take years until we are ready, but it only needs to take one day less than their plan. They are going to try the Event, but we will beat them to the punch. We're going to stop those who want to destroy us. I'm not planning on going anywhere.”
Just then, the secure communicator on his belt buzzed. He looked at the coded message. “Blue, it is General Win,” Red lied. It wasn't necessarily a wise thing to do with the local director of intelligence, but Red didn't have time for an elaborate story, and General Win was certainly a plausible alibi. “I need to leave immediately.”
And as he left, he caught a glimpse of a shadow in the corridor ahead.
18.
Hanging in the Balance
The steady rocking and swaying seemed almost gentle. The sun felt warm on her face and closed eyes. Then she became aware of the burning pain around her wrists. Her mind fired to consciousness and her eyes sprung open only to be blinded by the sky and the midday sun.
Katherine hung on a pole, her arms and legs tied to the branch by a rope. The crude and coarse strands dug into her wrists with each sway as the atics carried her across the plain. Her necklace had swung around to the back of her neck, and she could feel it swing to the cadence of footsteps.
She couldn't breathe through her nose. It was clogged, with blood. Her head throbbed. She tried to lift it to look around, but the effort caused the world to fade to black once more.
**
A cool breeze stirred, but her wrists still burned. She eased her eyes open. It was night. She was sideways on top of matted grass and dirt, still tied to the pole. Katherine lifted her head and looked around: no one. She couldn't see anything, not even the glow of a fire.
She listened carefully. Only the rustle of grass in the night air. Not even the sound of insects.
Katherine tried to move her hands before grunting at the pain. The crude ropes had worn her wrists raw. Her fingers were so swollen that she could barely move them. She tried to wiggle the rough rope loose before the pain forced her to stop.
She let her head fall to the matted grass again and exhaled deeply. The ropes were too strong. She was exhausted, in pain, confused, with no way out.
Katherine lay there in the night air. She looked up at the night sky. A few high clouds broke apart, revealing a view into the eternity of space. Against the dark canopy, space debris sparkled as it spun across the steady field of stars. Her breathing slowed and her mind cleared.
Maybe there appeared to be no way out, but she would not give up. Maybe the clouds of adversity would part and, if they did, she needed to be ready. She scooted closer to the pole and brought her wrists to her mouth. She struggled to get her swollen jaw open enough to get around one of the thick strands and began gnawing.
Her mouth was parched. The twine was dry and tough. She willed herself to keep moving her sore jaw. Each chew was a split second longer than the last. She began to fade into sleep.
She shook herself awake. She had to try to escape. She continued to gnaw the dry strands. She just... had to... keep chewing... and...
**
She awoke to the morning light. Her head hurt like it had never hurt before. Her mouth was cracked and dry. One strand of rope was a quarter of the way through. The thought was still in her mind: keep trying. She moved her wrists back toward her mouth to begin again before she looked up.
An atic sat cross-legged in the dirt, staring at her. She stopped gnawing and looked back at the gaunt face and empty eyes.
They studied each other without saying a word. The atic was a young man, perhaps about her age. He did not yet have the typical fanatic long beard. He probably had not chosen this life; he had probably never known a life other than as a Fanatic.
Then she heard people moving through the grass. She turned away from the seated atic to see two atics running with a pole, and suspended from the pole was her father!
“Dad!” she tried to yell, but produced only a hoarse exhalation.
But he merely hung limp from the branch. She wasn't sure if he was alive.
“Dad!” she tried to yell again, before the atics had carried him out of sight. It was only a split second. But it was enough for hope.
She turned back to the young man. “Listen,” she rasped, thinking back to the logic of Brian. “We aren't here to interfere with anything you are doing. We're just passing through. Please, you need to let us go.”
The young atic did not answer. He studied her without emotion, with the same empty eyes.
“Please,” she pleaded. She knew it was probably pointless trying to reason with an atic, but the way the young man stared...
The atic's eyes suddenly came alive. He stood and turned his head to the right as if something from that direction caught his attention.
Katherine saw a red dot appear on the atic's forehead before it erupted in red mist. Katherine heard the crack of assault rifles and then explosions. She curled up as much as she could while still tied to the pole.
More assault rifles cracked overhead.
Then, silence.
The grass rustled in the breeze.
A short while later, Katherine heard voices: “Did you get them all?”
“Yeah.”
“Chuck a few more frags just to be sure. I'm not climbing down in there with those crazies.”
Katherine heard two more muffled explosions.
“One more, over where you shot the guy in the noggin.”
“Wait!” Katherine yelled, “Wait, I'm alive!”
“Was that a voice?!” she heard one ask with concern, before the concussion blast knocked her unconscious.
19.
Jack
She was strapped to a stretcher in the back of a ground transport. The ride was rough, typical of a transport vehicle so old and obsolete. Still, it was more modern than anything she'd been around in the years she had lived in the Territories. She slowly realized where she was as two men in the front of the transport were talking.
“How the heck did Red know we'd find scapes way out here? At this time? What are the chances? It was like a needle in a haystack and we found them on the first go. Way out in the middle of nowhere, we find the group of Fanatics with the scapes right where he said they would be. How does Red get that kind of detailed information? I mean, he must have Fanatics on t
he payroll or something, huh?” The man's companion chuckled at the ridiculous thought of a Fanatic on the take. What would an atic possibly do with cash?
“With Red, it's pointless to ask. He has his sources and methods that will forever remain a mystery to me and you. Just do the job and don't ask so many dang questions, cuz you ain't figuring it out.”
“Good thing your aim sucks with nades or you would have killed the-”
“Hey, she's waking up,” the tech noted while looking over the medical monitor.
“Well, we know she's not an atic. The question is, who is she?”
“You can ask her in a moment,” the tech replied.
Katherine heard the voices and understood the language. She opened her eyes.
“Hello, everything is going to be okay,” a young man said. “Who are you?”
“Ka...” she began, before regretting it. Even in the fog of the drugs, she remembered well the lessons her father had taught her. Saying “Katherine” could mean death. Could she trust these people? What did they know already? Were they friends, neutrals, or worse? Her name could be a death sentence, and she nearly slipped up.
“Ka?” the young man asked.
“Ka... Ca… Can you say that again?”
“I was just explaining that you’re safe now. We rescued you. No need to worry about anything. You’ve got a concussion, taken a couple real serious hits to the head, so you might be a little confused. But give it time and the medicine is going to work. What’s your name?”
