by Terri Kouba
The next morning, Derrick said he needed my father and I to do some maintenance on one of the cars in the caravan. We left the tunnels after breakfast and darted to the closest train car. A Slicer cut through Derrick’s armor and nicked his skin but he covered the open wound with his armored hand and made it safely to the first car.
“Let me see that,” my father said after he slammed the door shut on the Slicers.
I helped Derrick unhook the overlapping panels on his coat lined with metal plates and hung it up on the hooks near the door. There were already six coats hanging there. I looked at my father and motioned to them with my head. His surprised showed in his eyes but he quickly narrowed them and inspected Derrick’s new wound.
“Just a scratch,” Derrick said.
“We were lucky,” my father agreed. “You should have Fitz mend your armor, though.”
“I will.”
My father laid his hand on Derrick’s arm. “Can you tell us what this is about before we go inside?”
It was Derrick’s turn to look surprised. “How did you…?” Derrick shook his head. “No, we’ll discuss it inside.”
We moved from the front car, through the second and into the third, which had been the community seating area when the train was our only home for five years while we travelled from Ireland to Greece. After living in Plato’s Cave for three months, the car looked disgustingly dirty and dingy. The seat cushions were worn thread bare. Springs drove into our backs when we sat down. The room was lit only by battery-operated torches and I already missed the sunlight that streamed in through the protective glass in Plato’s Cave.
Already waiting for us were Pappy and his assistant Charlie. In the seats closest to the ones we chose were Gretchen and Theo, also humanists. Ralph and Herbie stood guard, one at each door.
“I brought us here so we could talk in private,” Derrick started.
“This doesn’t seem right,” my father interrupted. “For us to talk in private when they have been so open with us.”
Derrick faced him. “That’s why we’re here. Have they been so open and truthful with us?”
“Have you noticed…” Pappy began but Derrick held up his hand and Pappy stopped.
“Before we begin, though, I want us to reaffirm our oaths. We’ve been three months at Plato’s Cave and I want to make sure this conversation stays between us.” Derrick looked at me and then at my father. “I want to make sure you won’t run back and tell her what we’ve been talking about.”
My father hesitated. “You have control over that,” he admitted. “If there’s anything that you want to say that will imply you wish harm upon anyone in Plato’s Cave or that you wish to deceive them or take from them, I suggest you don’t talk about it front of me or my daughter. Anything else you say will remain between us and us alone.”
Derrick nodded. “They’re hiding things from us.”
“Is this about the fact that they can kill Slicers?” my father asked. “She told you, she didn’t know you didn’t know.”
“It’s not that,” Derrick admitted, shaking his head. “I believed her when she said she didn’t know. She’s a lot like you – can’t lie worth beans.”
“It’s the others,” Pappy spoke up.
“They’re lying to us,” Charlie said.
“Well, not really lying. It’s just that they aren’t telling us everything,” Pappy clarified.
“How many people do you think live in Plato’s Cave?” Gretchen asked me.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I think Marla said they had two or three hundred.”
“And how many have you seen?”
I shrugged again. “I don’t know. Maybe ten or twenty. I spend most of my time in the lab or the library.”
“Ask me how many I’ve seen,” Gretchen challenged me.
I moved my hands to signal she should answer.
“I counted them, made notes of the people I’ve seen, what they look like, their names. I’ve recorded over six hundred and ninety two.” Gretchen sat back in her chair with a pleased smile on her face.
“Maybe you lost count,” I suggested.
Gretchen looked at me with scorn. “I’m a humanist. Paying attention to people is what I do.”
I nodded my head in acquiescence.
“And the children. I’ve counted a hundred and fifty-three children under the age of fifteen,” Theo added. “But they said they have only a score of children.”
“And I’ve counted the rooms. There are only three hundred and six bedrooms in Plato’s Cave,” Charlie added. “Where do the rest sleep?”
“There must be more rooms downstairs,” I concluded.
“Yes, downstairs, behind the locked doors.” The doors being locked clearly rankled Derrick. “In the library. Books are the only things down there, they say. As if books are important enough to lock up.”
“Say here, now,” my father objected. “Books are that important. We’ve learned more in the last three months than we did in the ten years prior. The information in those books is essential to our future generations, if we’re lucky enough to have any.”
“They are,” Pappy agreed with my father. “But the food.”
“Oh, yes, the food,” I interrupted. “With every meal I am still amazed at how good food can taste.”
“But have you thought about where it comes from? I mean, fresh pears? Apples. Olives.” Pappy looked concerned as he said it.
“Oh, Marla said they have an orchard a mile or so away. Near the stables where they keep the cows and other livestock,” I answered, not knowing my answer would trap me with my own words.
“And the fish?” Pappy asked.
“Fishermen,” I answered confidently. “I’ve met John and Paulo and what’s that woman’s name?” I turned to my father.
“You know the one with the…” I stopped in mid-sentence and heard the trap spring shut.
“We’ve seen no boats,” my father admitted, realizing it for the first time. “We’ve seen no caravans to or from the orchards.”
“I sent the UAVs to look for the orchards and livestock stables,” Derrick informed them. “I found nothing within twenty miles.”
“You used the unmanned aerial vehicles? Without the council’s permission?” My father looked concerned.
“The council voted,” Derrick said, looking away. “Two yes with one abstain.”
My father’s face clouded. “It’s not an abstain if I’m not informed there is a vote,” he replied icily.
“We know. We were wrong. Which is why you are here now,” Pappy admitted. “We weren’t trying to usurp your position, we just weren’t sure we could trust you anymore.”
“And what’s changed?” my father asked.
Pappy hung his head. “Guilt.” He looked up at my father. “We know who you are. You have done more for the Irish colony than almost anyone. Our doubts clouded our judgment. We had no reason to distrust you.”
“We were wrong,” Derrick admitted. “We know we can trust you. And your daughter. We were fools for a moment. It passed.”
“But our doubts about them remain,” Charlie added.
“Tell me where your doubts have taken you,” my father requested. “What are your conclusions.”
Charlie rose and began to pace the room. “My conclusion is that they are hiding something from us. They’ve lied about their population numbers, they’ve lied about their food source. What else have they lied about?”
“Don’t forget the basement is practically off-limits to us,” Derrick added.
“I’ve been in over twenty different rooms in the basement,” I interjected.
“But what is your conclusion,” my father continued to press Charlie.
Charlie sat on the chair puzzled.
“So they’ve lied to us about the number of people here. Maybe they’re telling us a lower number because they’re afraid they can’t trust us. Maybe they’re concerned we’ll be afraid if they tell us they are a thousand str
ong, or ten thousand strong.”
My father swallowed. He turned and looked pointedly at Derrick.
“If that was the real number, would you be happy that many humans were alive in one colony or would you see that colony as a threat?” My father could reason very well.
“Do you remember the food we received from the other colonies we visited on our trip here?” he continued. “In Prague they killed three of our soldiers and outside Berlin they gave us rancid radishes and water with feces floating in it.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Here they give us whipping cream with bits of quince and you are suspicious of them?”
He looked at Derrick sideways. “I think your idleness has turned you into an old man sitting outside the pub all day, suspecting the sun for rising.”
Father rose and took up Charlie’s pacing space. “Do you remember when we arrived? We limped in here. We crawled in on broken knees and scraped fingers and they took us in. They could have just as easily pushed us into the sea. We would have been helpless to stop them. We were entirely at their mercy and they healed us and fed us and moved out of their homes so we would have places to sleep.”
He ran his finger along the wall board and it came away covered with dust. “If they had something horrific they were hiding, it would have been easier for them to send us right into the sea the day we arrived.”
He sat down and looked at Pappy. “Do I think they’re hiding something?” He shrugged. “Sure. Everyone who lives through these times is hiding something or another.”
He turned to look at Derrick.
“Do I think what they’re hiding is a threat to us?” He shook his head. “No. They had their chance to kill us when we were at our weakest. If they’re hiding anything, they’re doing it for their own protection, not to harm us.”
The room was silent for a moment until I broke it. “I have to admit, if I was in Robert’s position as leader of this place, I would be inclined to build a big wall sheltering Plato’s Cave from the rest of the world. I would be tempted to let the rest of the world die, because I would be afraid that if I let the world in, the visitors would destroy everything I was trying to protect.”
“I am amazed at how open he is in sharing what they’ve done, their mistakes and successes alike,” Theo acknowledged. “He told me the hardest thing he had to do was convince his council that they needed to set standards for eviction. His face actually turned green when he told me about the day they made the decision. They know that the likelihood the person they evict is going to survive is very, very small. Yet he knew that it was necessary to maintain the, what did he call it, the balance in Plato’s Cave. I think he meant law and order, but he used the word balance instead.”
“Marla too,” Derrick conceded. “If she’s trying to hide their military prowess, she’s doing a piss-poor job of it. And Kendra, their head of security, she’s shown me many of their defenses. She’s taught me how they handle strangers, how they deal with criminals, how their trial system works. She’s shown me their jail cells.”
“They have jail cells?” I asked.
“They were empty every time I’ve been down there.” Derrick frowned. I bet he was remembering the overcrowded, filthy cells he ran in Ireland.
We sat in silence for a bit, remembering Ireland, the horrid trip down here. As the peacefulness of Plato’s Cave continued to seep into my bones, the absolute horror that was ever-present in my life before was starting to fade. I didn’t miss it. I sometimes woke screaming, sure the Slicers have broken in like they used to in Ireland. The familiar feeling of watery guts and that hand gripping my heart fades after I turn on a light and read a book for a while. The desire to retain the normalcy of this place was strong inside of me and I wondered if it was clouding my ability to determine whether they were, in fact, hiding something from us.
I briefly wondered how far I would go to be able to stay here at Plato’s Cave. How much would I forgive them if I discovered their secret? How horrific would their secret have to be to make me turn my back on them? In the brief silence I was not able to find anything that they could to do make me leave the safety of Plato’s Cave.
“So where does that leave us?” Gretchen asked. “If they haven’t been truthful but we don’t think their lies are a threat, where does that leave us?”
I turned at the sound of metal fingernails tapping against a metal table. “What is that?” The sound was familiar but I had buried it and couldn’t identify it immediately.
Herbie turned around and put his hand against the door. His face lost its color and he spun around. “Slicers,” he shouted.
We all ran for our protective gear and climbed into the armored suits. We buckled each other up as quickly as we could but we were not fast enough. I was right; the three months of peace had dulled my mind and slowed my fingers. A Slicer flew past my faceplate and dove under an open flap in Gretchen’s coat. It slammed up through her chin, ripped off her face and embedded itself in her brain. The inside of her faceplate splattered with blood and bits of flesh. She fell heavily against me and I lowered her to the floor with a thud of metal against metal.
I turned to find my father, to make sure he was protected. I saw Charlie’s chest burst open in a flowering bloom of red before he, too, fell to the floor. I felt strong hands on each side of me, lifting me to my feet. My father’s face blurred before me and he pushed me toward the train car door. Just like in the old days, he kept his hand on my back so I would know he hadn’t fallen.
We ran out the train and into the tunnel leading to Plato’s Cave. The doors opened and we fell through. We crawled to the far end of the room and heard the doors slam shut. I looked up to find only three of my friends; my father, Pappy and Derrick. We had lost another five.
Four of their soldiers, fully covered in their armor burst into the room. “How many are in the train?” Kendra barked at Derrick who was still leaning against the wall.
“Five.” He shouted to be heard through the suit.
“If they still live, we’ll rescue them.” She slapped her hand against his helmet and motioned for her team to follow her. I watched them disappear through the door and into the tunnels before I broke into tears. Except for nightmares, it had been three moths since I had felt this fear. Three months without my knees buckling or my ears ringing with the sound of metal scraping against metal. Three months without fear sucking every drop of water from my mouth and my heart pounding in my throat and vomit backing up into my esophagus. Even now, safe in this room, fear squeezed the air from my lungs. My arms and legs started to shake uncontrollably. I knew what was happening; I was hyperventilating, but I was helpless to stop it and I’m not sure I wanted it to stop. I was relieved when the darkness took over my vision and I blacked out.
I woke to find my helmet off and my head resting against my father’s leg as he leaned against the wall. More soldiers ran through the room and into the tunnel.
“Marauders,” my father whispered.
Robert rushed into the room and helped us to our feet. “We have to get you out of here.”
“Why?” Derrick asked.
Robert paused and looked at Derrick. “It’s not going well.” He hesitated. “They have your weapons.”
Derrick hesitated less than a second before pushing Pappy, my father and me after Robert. “Go and go fast.”
We ran through empty hallways and past Marla’s lab. It was the first time I had seen her door closed and hadn’t realized before how solid her door actually was. We paused at a corner. “Your men are suiting up,” Robert told Derrick. “Third door on the left.” Derrick jogged down the hall and disappeared through the doorway. I heard a distant cheer as he entered the room.
“This way,” Robert said, leading us to the basement.
My father nudged me forward and we descended the stairs and ran to the fiction library. Marla and my father hugged. “Thank the gods you’re alive,” she said and pulled me into the hug too. She pulled away and held us at arm�
��s length.
“What you are about to see is our most protected secret.” She looked at my father. “Forgive me for not sharing it with you earlier.” She reached behind a bookshelf and pulled a lever. The bookcase slid forward to reveal a dimly lit tunnel. She ushered us into the tunnel. Robert closed and locked the outer door to the library and joined her at the bookcase. Giving one last look around the room, they stepped into the tunnel and closed the secret door behind them.
She stepped around us and led us through the tunnels. Robert broke off at one of the tunnels to our left. He hugged Marla. “Be safe,” she whispered.
We walked for five, maybe six minutes more. We could hear the muffled sounds of cannon-fire and machine guns and knew the soldiers still fought the marauders. I didn’t know if I should be happy knowing our soldiers still lived, or angry knowing the marauders still lived also. Most of all, I still felt the fear in my bones. Fear of the Slicers.
We came to a large, thick metal door. It had a combination lock like they had on bank vaults before the Slicer Wars began. I’ve seen them because we’ve had to hide in them before. We couldn’t hide in them too long, though, because if we chose one with ventilation, the Slicers could get in. If we chose one without ventilation, well, we could usually identify those by the dead but unmutilated bodies inside.
Marla entered the combination and the lock sprang open. She moved the door lever downward and my father helped her pull it open. We walked into a room that looked just like a bank vault. It was metal on all sides with another door opposite the one we just opened. Marla closed the door behind us and I heard a hiss as the air seal locked in place. She knocked on the opposite door and looked up into a camera. The camera moved to see the entire small room and then the door in front of us opened.
My father, Pappy and I stood there, our mouths open, our eyes wide. Before us was their secret, the thing they had been hiding from us, and it was a doozy.
