Skyland One

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Skyland One Page 13

by Aelius Blythe


  But you did, too, Harper reminded himself. You embraced it, too.

  He tried to shake off the prejudice.

  "So they didn't give you the day off, too? For worship?" he asked to distract himself. "Don't you go to the Tenth–"

  "No." Wills's voice was sharp as he looked away.

  Harper stared.

  It was the first time Wills had spoken sharply to him. The first time the wide smile had disappeared entirely. His face looked gaunt without it.

  A weird moment passed.

  Wills looked down at his food, and Harper tried to think of something to say.

  "Oh. So, um," Harper's mind flailed a bit, trying to find another subject. "So when are they going to need me?"

  "I don't know." Wills answered. "They're just trying to secure the area for now. Coordinate with the local troops. They're not going to make a move against anyone for the moment. I don't think. I don't really know..." He smiled again. It was a half smile and he didn't meet Harper's eye. "Sorry. They don't really trust me with that kind of thing."

  "It's okay. I was just wondering."

  "So what are you here for, anyway?" asked Wills. "What's your thing?"

  Harper raised his eyebrows. Then he laughed. "They don't tell you that either?"

  "They really don't tell me much."

  "Guess not."

  "So what is it that makes you important?" Wills prodded. "What can you tell them?"

  "Not much." Harper hesitated for a minute. He wasn't sure how much information he should share – especially if the Union army themselves didn't share it with the lowly soldiers. But after a moment he shrugged to himself and continued. "Just about the... explosives." It's not my job to check security clearance.

  "What about them, though? I didn't think farmers had access to those kind of weapons, not ones that could do... that. I mean, the whole ship.... just gone like that. There were bits left, falling. Bits. How is it even possible?"

  Is this an interrogation? Harper chewed thoughtfully on something that may have been dried meat. "It's just... fertilizer."

  "Can't be." Wills shook his head. He paused for a moment, his head cocked to one side, his eyes staring into the air over Harper's shoulder, thoughtful. "Can't be... It'd take a hell of a lot of fertilizer to do that."

  "Not really."

  "And how'd they get it all onboard with nobody seeing it anyway? Unless there's someone inside–"

  "No. It's really not a lot. They could have taken a pocketful and incapacitated the ship for good. Two pocketfuls, maybe a handful more, probably destroyed it."

  "No way." Wills shook his head.

  "We're farmers. My people have... experimented. A lot. For a century we've done nothing but explore dirt."

  "So you know a lot about it."

  Harper felt a twinge of pity watching the young soldier across from him. Wills was smiling. Joking. A naive boy from Union Proper, he was probably unable to imagine sitting and chatting over breakfast with someone who really knew. He didn't know enough to be fighting a war.

  If you only did know. "Yes."

  "Can you tell me more?"

  "Are you interrogating me?" asked Harper.

  "No, I'm just curious."

  Harper raised an eyebrow.

  Wills laughed. "Really. I wanted to be a weapons expert, but I wasn't good enough in training."

  Harper smiled back. It was hard not to catch his good mood. Even if it was fake. "Is that why you're always here? I mean, watching me. They didn't have anything better you could do?"

  "I guess not."

  "So what are you really?" Harper asked, still smiling. "My guide? Come on. I'm not stupid. What was your assignment?"

  Wills sighed. He looked down at his hands, absently picking apart the dry remnant of breakfast. He opened his mouth and hesitated for a moment. Then,

  "Yeah," he said. "I'm your... guard."

  Of course. "Thought so. Making sure I don't escape?"

  "Something like that," Wills admitted.

  "Or making sure I don't blow the place up?"

  "Probably not so much that." He laughed. "But yeah."

  Finally some honesty. Good. Let's see how far that goes. He looked at Wills, remembering what Ben had said on the way to the planet. They know... more. They know something. And they trust me. Sort of. "It's weird, though, isn't it?"

  "Weird?"

  "Yeah, weird. A liability like me – a local, a son of a Sky Reverend – and they put a, no offense..." He smiled to soften the blow, "...low-level guy in to watch me?"

  "It's a... it's... " Wills shifted uncomfortable, his eyes squinted up a bit as he tried to explain.

  Can't come up with a convincing story? wondered Harper.

  "It's an honor," Wills said, finally. "It's a big responsibility. I guess they think I'm up to the task."

  "You don't seem honored." Or responsible.

  Wills looked up from his breakfast guilty. "It's not... Well..."

  He's not allowed to tell me. So it's true. Ben was right. There's more to what they know. He struggled to keep the smile on his face. "I know. It's okay."

  "You know? You know what?"

  "I know that you're not here to keep me from doing anything."

  "Why do you say that?" Wills wide-eyed expression looked a little too innocent.

  "Because..." Harper grit his teeth. "Because the Union has been following me." He finally voiced the glaring truth.

  "Wha..." Wills gaped unconvincingly. "I don–"

  "Somehow." Harper shook his head. "They know I'm really not a threat at all," he said, repeating the cryptic words Ben had told him.

  "Well, sure they do..."

  Harper laughed. "Thanks. But I know they don't."

  "Just a little..."

  Uh huh. Harper waited, watching Wills, and didn't say anything. The soldier's eyes started to flicker here and there uncomfortably. Harper let the minutes stretch out in silence.

  "Okay, okay." Wills finally interrupted the awkward pause. "No. They don't." He looked around as though someone were listening. "They know you're not really a threat. I don't know how, I don't know why. But yeah, they know you're not going to do anything." He looked kind of disappointed. "I don't really need to be here."

  "So why are you?"

  "It's just..." Again, he looked around for a second. "It's just so that you don't get suspicious, I think."

  Ben was right. They know me. Somehow they know more than they've said... Harper stared across the table.

  Then he saw his chance.

  Will's eyes were baggy. His head leaned on one fist. The curious smile was still there, but thinner than it had been the day before and more tired looking.

  No sleep on the soldier's ship. Harper leaned in. "Look, they're right," he said, keeping his voice hushed. "I'm not going to do anything. I mean, do I look dangerous?"

  "No."

  "And I came here to help. I'm not going anywhere. You know it, they know it, I know it. Besides, it's a military ship. Soldiers everywhere. Barbed wire fence out there. Where am I going to go? There's not much trouble I could get up to"

  "Probably not."

  Harper leaned further in. "Why don't you take a break?" he whispered. "I don't need a guide or a guard."

  The soldier's mouth dropped open for a second. "What?"

  "Go on. Take a break. Look, I'm here to help. Everyone knows it."

  Wills looked around. "I don't know..."

  "Oh go on."

  "Well..." His smile widened a bit. He shook his head. "I couldn't. I really couldn't."

  "Sure you could. You look dead tired. Look, I'm not going to get into any trouble – like I even could anyway. This place is locked down pretty good. Go take a nap or something. I'll stay out of the way."

  "I don't know... Really?"

  "Yeah. If anyone asks, I'll just tell them I went to pee and got lost." Or whatever... I'll think of something.

  Wills stifled a laugh. "No one will ask. No one asks questions around h
ere."

  "So go take a break, you look like you could use it. Seriously."

  "Yeah... Everyone's been pulling double shifts since we left for this planet. We weren't prepared for a war." He yawned. "There aren't enough of us out here."

  "The war's not going to run out while you catch some rest."

  Finally, Wills nodded. Then he laughed. "Alright. Just don't get into any trouble. Don't get me into any trouble."

  "I won't. Promise."

  Chapter Twenty

  in which there are...? Doors.

  The long black hallways wound around and around and around. Just like the Skyland ship, as massive as this one had seemed from the outside, on the inside it was even bigger. The halls just went on and on and on forever.

  Left right, left, left, right, left, right, right, right, straight for a while...

  Harper had to count the turns to remember how to get back. He even retraced his steps a few times to make sure he remembered it right so far. And at each step, he looked over his shoulder.

  It was quiet.

  Far quieter than a military base should be, he thought. There were open doors and closed doors, regular doors and heavy doors that were locked. And there were people – people eating, people, sleeping, people chatting in the halls and inside the rooms. But mostly there were empty rooms. Empty rooms, empty halls.

  Where is everyone? Are that many people at the Tenth Day?

  Unlike the ships flying through space, this ship did not hum. It's walls did not vibrate, it's engines did not rumble even a little. It was a fortress, moving only to be fixed on whatever planet needed a fortress.

  Ahead of him, the hallway ended at a set of the heavy doors. One corridor went off to the right. His walk slowed, and he thought for a second about whether he should turn right and explore more or whether he really should be getting back to meet Wills.

  Two soldiers popped out of the hall on the right.

  Harper stepped back quick.

  His heart sped up, but they turned away from him, towards the heavy doors and did not glance back. One moment later the doors opened for them, and the two walked into the hallway beyond.

  Harper stepped forward.

  One step. Then another, then another.

  Without thinking, he stuck his foot out as the heavy doors swung closed and stopped them.

  For a moment, he stood waiting for the two soldiers to turn around and ask him what he was doing or perhaps raise their weapons or maybe push him out.

  They didn't.

  They kept walking. One said something Harper couldn't catch. The other laughed. Down and down the hallway they walked, not looking back. Then they were far at the end, and then around a corner.

  And the hallway beyond the heavy door was empty.

  Harper moved forward, just half a step. One of the doors swung closed, the other hit him in the back, almost closed. He turned to inspect it. It was a door like all the others on the ship – heavier, but otherwise identical – there was no visible locking mechanism. But no doubt like the other heavy doors, this one would lock, and lock behind him.

  Harper stood for a moment. He wanted to know what was behind the locked doors.

  How will I get out?

  He knelt down and undid his shoes, but a shoe stuck between two heavy doors would attract attention. He took off his socks and put his shoes back on. He balled the socks up and stuck one in between a hinge of the door, then stepped back. The door slowly swung towards the other, then rested almost closed with a half-an-inch gap in between. Hardly noticeable. He pushed against the door with one hand. It opened. He was not locked in.

  If I get caught, I'll say I was lost. He shook off his unease. Wills will be in more trouble for letting me wander.

  He felt a twinge of guilt at the thought.

  It vanished as he turned away from the doors and faced the hallway.

  It was silent.

  Unlike the others, mostly empty but with a few voices here and there, this hall was devoid of sound. Harper shifted uncomfortably. His shoe squeaked and he jumped. Then he looked closer at the hall he was standing in.

  At first, it had looked like a straight corridor with no doors on either side. But as he ran his hand along one wall, he realized there were seams in the apparently smooth surface. Squinting at the walls, he saw more seams.

  Doors.

  Solid doors without handles, without windows, without even light around the edges. More and more, as far as he could see on either side. Doors.

  And it was dark.

  This hall was dimmer than the rest of the ship. Not completely dark. There were glowing strips of light around the ceiling and floor, like there were everywhere else on the ship. But everywhere else, there had been light spilling out from open doors here and there, out from windows, out from other hallways. But here, there was just one long hall until the end where it branched into other corridors. The light from them did not brighten the gloom.

  Harper took a few cautious steps down the hall. He listened at the cracks of the doors, but the rooms were either silent or soundproofed, and he heard nothing. Down the hall he walked, ear pressed to the wall, hands running over the smooth surface searching for any hint of another feature besides the endless black metal and the lightless seams. He pressed against the doors, but nothing happened.

  Further and further down, past door after door after door, he walked until he realized what he had wandered in to – this place, a long hall of room after room after room, close together, locked more securely than any other doors on the ship...

  A prison.

  A thread of fearful tension snaked through his stomach, and he stopped dead.

  Do the doors even open?

  He wondered, for a wild moment, if he had wandered into a one-way dungeon with doors that opened only once. He looked back down the hallway towards the door he had almost-closed behind himself. A chink of light shone through from the rest of the ship beyond. He fought the urge to run back and be safe on the other side, before he delivered himself to his own cell.

  He shivered thinking what might be behind the black doors.

  That's why the soldiers weren't concerned? That's why they were laughing? This is not a place of vicious enemies, this is the place of dead enemies...?

  He was frozen. His feet stood where they were, but his eyes looked back at the far door wanting, wanting, wanting to be on the other side.

  He looked around himself.

  Silence, dimness.

  He took a half step backwards, an involuntary, reflexive, retreating step back towards safety. He took another. But as his head whipped from side to side looking for a soldier's boot around the corner, he saw a light he hadn't noticed before.

  One door stood open.

  Down, down, down the hall, almost at the end, some light spilled out from a door, open perhaps only a few inches. So close to the end of the hall, it's light must have blended with the other hallways' and been invisible from the far end.

  What is in there?

  Harper's jaw twitched. He grimaced at his own curiosity.

  No. Go! Go before you get yourself into a one-way room.

  But his eyes were locked on the open door, and his feet were twitching towards it, inching into a step, shuffling away from safety, further down the hall towards the open cell. The open door got closer and closer. Harper paused, listening. There was no sound outside or inside the room. Closer and closer his feet shuffled.

  He was almost there.

  He leaned against the wall only two feet away from the cell from which the light spilled. He pressed himself flat against the black wall and inched along it, peering at the gap. His hands were in fists at his side. Then the gap was right beside him, but still he could see nothing on the other side of the door. He peeked an eye around the corner.

  An old man lay on a bed.

  A table sat in the middle of the room with two chairs sitting empty across from each other. A tray with crumbs sat on the table. The old man lay on h
is side, not moving, but Harper could see his shoulders twitching, just a little, breathing.

  It's just a grandpa.

  Harper let his breath out, a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He took another step, then turned his head sharply away from the acrid smell coming from the open door. The room smelled of piss.

  The man looked up.

  The wizened lids flicked up, grey eyes floated in a sunken face on a still body, and they fixed on Harper's face. Harper twitched, but held the old man's gaze. He did not recognize him.

  "Hey, grandpa," he said, and the old man just stared up some more. "What are you doing here?"

  "I... I..." The cracked voice rasped over the dry, cracked lips, and the grey eyes blinked once, twice. "I... don't know anything."

  Harper stared at the shriveled husk of a body, barely living. His lips moved mechanically, out of habit, forming a response that didn't fit the bizarre conversation. "I know" he said. He didn't know what else to say. He made his voice soft, calming, and held up his hands palms open, a gesture of peace. "I know," he said again.

  Harper took another step into the room. He clenched his jaw tight so he wouldn't retch at the smell.

  He can't be dangerous.

  He took another step, and the old man just watched.

  But if not dangerous... useful? But how? An old man!

  He shivered. And took another step. This time the old man groaned and rolled over, turning away from Harper, burying the old face into what was probably supposed to be a mattress.

  "Go away," the cracked voice pleaded, muffled now.

  "It's ok, nobody's around," said Harper, stupidly. Of course there are people around! It's a military base. "No one's taken notice of me, and I've been wandering around for a bit." For now.

  The insistent urge to flee – to run back to the relative safety of the well-lit halls where his room and his soft and puffy bed with its soft and puffy pillows were – gnawed at his gut. Again. But curiosity and revulsion kept his back to the door. He took another step. He could have reached out and touched the end of the bed.

 

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