Cold World

by P. Mattern

  Rollo and I hastily got up and took turns taking a piss in the weird bench with a hole in the middle, though it wasn’t comfortable to sit on for number two. I wondered how far down the hole went so that no odor floated back up to haunt us. Every quad had this set up, it was all we had for a crude toilet arrangement.

  We arrived just as one of the organizers was picking out volunteers to go meet the Xport wagon from Citizen’s Cove.

  Rollo and I were too new, and so we spent the next few hours taking a tour with our new friends Bryant and Marty. It turns out there are more things to do here than we thought. We had options for our daily activities, and everyone was expected to volunteer for basic maintenance and cleanup of the environment.

  Turns out that snakes are an occasional problem, most of them harmless. Part of the cave system is backed up against a dormant volcano. Because of this, we get not only heated water from underground springs but the temperature of the caves is surprisingly comfortable, reaching up to 77 degrees in certain places.

  It is the perfect habitat for both snakes and bats. The caves most frequented by bats were walled up long ago so that only an occasional flying pest will end up inside the human portion of the habitat. But snakes are not tied to the same routines and do not stay in a proscribed area. Though most are harmless, an occasional rattler has been discovered...

  Rollo and I are informed that most of our fellow cave dwellers have volunteered to be immunized against snake bite by allowing the medical cave dwellers to introduce a tiny amount of rattlesnake venom into our bloodstreams. Apparently, though it won’t work to inoculate us against a snake bite, it will help our body create natural antibodies so that we won’t die instantly if bitten. The only thing is it will make us a little sick for 24 hours afterward.

  Rollo and I haven’t run into any snakes, but we discuss it and decide that it is probably smart to get the shot right away. I have seen too many old Westerns in which a favorite character dies a slow, terrible death after being bitten by a snake to want to take chances.

  It is well after the noon hours when we become aware of a ruckus, and everyone starts running toward the common area again, even though no alarm has gone off. When Rollo and I get there, we see that a large wagon, pulled by one of the mammoths is entering the cave entrance. There are half a dozen humans in the wagon. They are dressed in what look like gunny sack material, which is never a good sign.

  As I get closer and the wagon stops so that those just arriving can get down, my heart suddenly jumps up in my throat.

  “PAGAN!” I shout, so loudly that my voice echoes against the rock walls surrounding us.

  The blonde, disheveled girl I am shouting at turns to look at me, and my first thought is that I’ve made a mistake. Her eyes are the right color, but they are glazed over and lifeless. She doesn’t appear to recognize me.

  And then I look down and see the funny heart shaped birthmark on her ankle, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it is her.

  But something is wrong, very wrong. She shows just the barest glimmer of recognition and no emotion at all. And a terrible thought occurs to me even as I walk toward her.

  What if they cut her tongue out? What if she ended up in one of the cages on the Medical Research Floor and they did to her what they had done to the others?

  I am standing toe to toe with her, keeping a distance so not to freak her out. Suddenly she inhales and opens her mouth.

  “Billy,” she whispers, and falls forward into my arms.

  Some of the workers that I recognize are assigned to the medical staff, including Rollo who has decided to volunteer, pry her inert form from me and gently place her on a stretcher. I am shocked and relieved at the same time. Shocked because she is in such rough shape, but relieved that she is at least still alive—and can speak.

  I follow as they transport her to a wing I’ve never been in before. I get ushered outside while they remove her clothing, sponge her off, and redress her in a comfortable shift. This is taking enough time so that I know they are also medically checking her over. I guess Rollo must have displayed his medical knowledge because the Cavern Medics seem comfortable with letting him join in and it also crosses my mind that he will get to see Pagan naked, which still bothers me.

  At that point, they allow me to come back in and I announce, “Hey everyone—this is my girlfriend and I’m not leaving until she’s better!”

  “Relax, sir,” one of the medics tells me, eyeing me up and down, no doubt wondering how a skinny teen like me gets to have a girl as beautiful as Pagan. “She’s in stable condition. She’s running a fever though, and seems to have gone through some trauma, so we’re gonna keep an eye on her until we’re sure she’s turned the corner, understand?”

  “What kind of trauma?” I ask. I say it in a calm tone of voice, but inwardly I am screaming.

  I notice Rollo meeting the eyes of the medic that is talking and shake his head ever so slightly, and the Medic picks up on his nonverbal cue, saying, “That is not verified yet, but we will be monitoring her. You can only stay if you agree to remain absolutely quiet and not interfere with any medical interventions—do you agree? We’re trusting you on this.”

  “Yes,” I say immediately. One of the medics fetches a woven reed stool like the one that flanks my desk in my room, and sets it down so that I can sit with Pagan. Rollo comes over to me and places a hand on my shoulder.

  I cut my eyes up at him.

  “What aren’t you telling me Rollo?” I ask him. “I know that you’re holding something back. I can feel it!”

  “You might as well come clean and tell me.”

  Rollo looks up at the ceiling and sighs. When our eyes meet again his look moist.

  “Billy, I know you’re not stupid,” he says finally, stumbling over his words. “Before they release the girls to Xport… well… sometimes the guards pass them around!”

  “No!” I half scream, and before I know what I’m doing I get up and smash my fist into the nearest stone wall before Rollo catches up to me and places his meaty hand over my mouth.

  “Billy stop,” he hisses “there isn’t anything you can do about what’s already happened. She has some serious trauma, but she’s gonna survive.”

  “Isn’t that the important thing?”

  I can’t speak. I have my face pressed against the rock. I am suffused with impotent rage unlike anything I have ever felt before, and I am sobbing.

  Rollo just backs off and lets me alone—there is nothing else he can do either.

  I feel some part of me dying. What’s the point to any of this if you can’t protect the people you care about?

  I start going insane with rage. I’m going to tear apart the artificial society of Citizen Cove and the rule of the Collesium. I’m going to kill all the guards and show the people their tongue-less parents being slaughtered and ground up into Wednesday night dinner. I’m going to return and make them pay for what they did to Pagan and all the other Xports.

  I focus on rage, because my tears would never heal Pagan. I straighten my shoulders and return to my vigil at her bedside, anxious for the moment she would open her eyes again.

  * * *

  She does. Nearly six hours have passed, and I am bleary eyed and nodding off every few minutes. But something changes, and I hear a noise and find that I am instantly alert.

  She is facing away from me, but a frown buckles her perfect brow and her head rolls over to the side I am sitting on. Then her eyelashes flutter open.

  “Billy,” she breathes, “Is that you?”

  “Of course it is,” I tell her as I reach for her small hand, “I’m here Pagan. I’ve been here all night waiting for you to wake up, so I could tell you something important.”

  She places her other hand on top of both of our intertwined hands.

  “I love you,” I tell her.

  “I love you too, Billy Zhine,” she says laughing lightly. “I always have, Billy. Hey is there anything to drink? I’m parched.”
<
br />   I grab her a glass with spring water in it from a low shelf about a foot away. There is a covered container near it, and when I open it, I see that it contains roughly chipped ice.

  By then, a medic has heard us and holds the glass of ice water so that Pagan can drink her fill. She gulps down a glass and a half without stopping.

  “Thanks so much,” she says finally, “Wow, that tastes wonderful. So much better than the stuff at Citizens Cove!”

  As happy as I am to see her and as grateful as I am that she seems able to carry on a lucid conversation, I am still wary. I guess I’m waiting for her to remember all the horrific stuff she must have been through and go berserk and forget herself. And maybe me.

  Chapter 9

  OZ

  * * *

  A couple weeks pass, and Pagan seems to be doing better, with the exception of a few scars she can’t explain and an ‘X’ that the Security Department laser branded on the outside of her right ankle to permanently mark her for Xport.

  It’s barbaric, to say the least.

  “It’s called ‘body branding,’ Pagan explains to me. “After an edict was issued by the Collesium that the population had to be winnowed—in other words, those deemed to be irrelevant to the goals of the Collesium were routinely separated out from the general population. That included people over 40, disruptive or disabled individuals, those with lower IQs and, of course, anyone who questioned the powers that be. It’s not something they teach you, unless you’ve already become irrelevant.

  “They never told us why they were trading with the Outcasts that lived on the surface, but after you and Rollo disappeared, I discovered a rough sketch you left behind showing an escape route through the Natatorium.

  The first time I headed down there, they caught me snooping, but let me go. I kept looking. I was trying so hard to figure out how you guys did it! I knew you had gotten away. And I was angry about it, Billy.

  You left me behind!” she yells. I’ve never seen her this upset.

  “I hope you know how hard a decision that was,” I tell her. She’s almost ready to cry just thinking about it, “But we had a very narrow window of time, and I thought it was too dangerous to include you. I didn’t think we’d make it out alive, and if we did, I thought we’d freeze, and if we didn’t, I figured we’d starve! I only did it to save Bree. I only went with Rollo because he was leaving with or without me. You’re not responsible for Bree, and you’ve never even talked to me about leaving.” I try to fight back tears, and they end up welling in my eyes, despite me.

  “And I would have never been able to forgive myself if you had died trying to escape with us! We barely made it! I should have told you, but I wasn’t thinking! I was panicking because I thought my sister was about to die!”

  “I know,” she says quietly. “Anyway, the second time they caught me snooping, I thought I had figured out your exit point, and I had supplies with me, so they took me up to the Medical Research floor until they could consult with the Ruling Committee for Citizen’s Cove. It was up to them to decide what to do about my noncompliance.

  The next thing I knew I was taken, along with a few other girls, to a level I didn’t know existed. We were stripped and branded to be exchanged for herbal medicines, extra meat, and scraps of technology.”

  Pagan’s voice drifts off, and I know it’s because she is remembering what happened next to her and the other imprisoned girls.

  “Look Pagan,” I tell her. “I know that bad things happened. I want you to know that you never have to talk about them. But on the other hand, if you ever want to, I am here…okay?”

  She nods, and we look into each other’s eyes. I am noticing that hers look haunted, as though the shadows of the horrors she endured have taken up permanent residence in her gaze.

  And she elects not to go into any more detail than that.

  “After they were done with us,” she says, giving the word ‘done’ a scathing inflection, “They drugged and starved us for—I don’t remember much of it, to tell you the truth. The next thing I knew, I was freezing, huddled down in a utility vehicle I’d never seen before and looking at the wide-open plains we’ve only seen in movies.

  But you know what Billy? I still thought of you. And I hoped I would see you again…”

  I hold her against me, realizing how close I came to losing the only person I would ever want to be with.

  Pagan tells me that Roger Vermillion wants to meet her, and that she is nervous about meeting him.

  “Piece of cake,” I tell her winking, “He may have a fierce reputation, but he is polite and surprisingly down to earth for a tribe leader. I think you’ll like him!”

  “I hope so,” she says, “I would hate to leave here.” She seems distant as she’s talking, like she’s already left.

  “Not a chance!” I reassure her. “They just want people who are willing to help out! They rely more on volunteer efforts than the Collesium does, as long you’re willing to help out, you’ll be fine. And besides… you’re the most beautiful girl here!”

  “You sound weird,” she tells me, laughing lightly. I can tell she’s already checked out, so I give her some space. I can tell it’s going to be a long time before she feels safe again.

  * * *

  The day Pagan is taken to meet Roger Vermillion, (who is apparently so busy running things that he has someone to keep track of his appointments), she asks me to accompany her. I jump at the chance, feeling like she might need the support, and I am right.

  I am not allowed to go into the chamber with her, but as I stand just outside, I can hear him greeting her and asking the same questions he asked Rollo and I. I wait impatiently as they make conversation and a few minutes later, I am getting leery because it seems that he is taking a lot longer to interview her than he did when he interviewed Rollo and I.

  When she comes out, she is beaming though, and all my anxieties melt away as she jumps into my arms excitedly.

  “I’m official!” she announces joyously, practically dancing in the halls, “I have a home! And you were right Billy, he is very nice!”

  “Told you so!” I say, feeling happy myself. I am thinking that now we can go on with our new lives on Naris and the Collesium can kiss our asses.

  “Anyway,” she continues chatting excitedly as we walk, “he said he’s going to give me the grand tour of the entire tribal stake tomorrow, isn’t that neat? Top to bottom! And he invited me to have dinner afterwards!”

  I suddenly stop in my tracks.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she tells me, nodding affirmatively, “Isn’t that great?”

  I can feel myself flushing. I know streaks of scarlet are starting to rise up my neck and face. This is what happens when I get pissed off.

  “Uh—no,” I tell her. “Pagan… it sounds to me like he’s trying to date you—what kind of creepy old man is he? This isn’t normal. Roger Vermillion doesn’t roll out the red carpet for every newbie—he sure didn’t offer any of that to me and Rollo!”

  She looks at me for a moment.

  “I wouldn’t expect Oz to offer the same thing to you guys.” she says. “Look, Billy I said I would go on the tour and have dinner. It’s just dinner. He’s been welcoming, and I don’t want to be rude. I’m sorry if you’re jealous. Is that what’s going on? Because I can tell you, I’m not interested in dating the head caveman, alright? And if you gave a shit about who I date—you wouldn’t have abandoned me!”

  I feel ashamed that Pagan has nailed me—I am jealous, and I was too much of a coward to tell her I was leaving, or to even tell her I love her until now.

  “Then it’s cool, just go ahead and get it over with,” I tell her in a casual tone, as if I can stand it. The truth is I am far from over it, and don’t expect to be. I resolve to discuss it with Rollo at the first opportunity.

  * * *

  “Well, it’s not great news, Billy,” is the far-from-comforting reaction I get from Rollo. “Oz is the king of this
mountain, and kings tend to get what they want.

  “This could get very, very bad,” he finishes, rubbing his chin where he is sprouting some short beard growth. Beards seem to be very popular here on the surface, but I couldn’t grow a beard to save my life.

  “Thank you,” I tell my best friend who has once again proven his worth as a counselor, confessor, and advice giver, “What do I do though Rollo?”

  “Not a thing,” he tells me. “At least for now, there is really nothing you can do, Billy. Oz will take out your girl. You have to trust Pagan—she is not stupid and she already told you that she’s not interested in him. You can trust her to let him down gently. If he doesn’t take it well—then we need to be ready as backup, not before.”

  “I can’t help thinking how ‘Lord of the Flies’ this situation is, Rollo,” I tell him. “We grow up in a giant, underground prison, and finally escape it to find—what exactly?—a ruthless medieval kingdom? They’re both a bunch of kids pretending to be old world countries. It didn’t used to be this way, right? We had free countries, we had democracies, and they had leaders. What happened to them?”

  “The Great Upheaval killed them off, Billy,” he replies in a sober tone, “Remember? You remember. I mean where are our parents? For all we know, they ended up as people burgers—”

  I interrupt him, because my mind’s still racing. “And who do you think wants to build a protective bunker when half the world’s saying there’s no disaster, Rollo? Thieves? Rapists? Tyrants? What if there’s nowhere left that’s like the movies? What if the only people who built shelters like this did it so they could rule with an iron fist?”

  Rollo sighs. “I don’t know, man. If I thought about it the way you do, I wouldn’t even bother getting up in the morning. And it might not even be like that. We’ll just have to wait—it’s not your strong suit, I realize—but just let it happen for now and if things change, we’ll take it from there.”