[scifan] plantation 06 - plantations origins

by Stella Samiotou Fitzsimons

  “Wait.”

  Eric stopped. He turned to face Damian from a distance.

  “What you said about Freya,” Damian continued as he walked to Eric, “are you certain?”

  Eric rubbed his hands together. “I’ve told you what I have discovered. I wish it were not true.”

  Damian nodded. They walked inside the tent which was lit by a single flashlight. A small couch, a desk and a chair barely fit in the tiny quarters. A carafe of water and a bowl of old fruit sat on the desk.

  “It’s all here,” Eric said, handing Damian a black microchip. “This is the proof you want.”

  Damian weighed the microchip in his hand. “We’ll resolve this. Quickly and quietly.”

  “It will take more than resolution,” Eric said harshly. “It will take research, a team of our brightest minds. All the information is inside the chip.”

  “She will not die,” Damian said in a low voice.

  “Nobody wants that.”

  Damian said nothing. He stared at the microchip one more time before loading it into his touchpad.

  “It’s not a discovery I enjoyed making,” Eric said, sitting at the desk. “You know that.”

  Damian shook his head. “No. This is good. Now that we know, we’ll just override the genetic coding.”

  “And how are we supposed to do that without Freya knowing?”

  Damian tightened his fists. “Telling her would crush her.”

  “I don’t know,” Eric said. “She’s survived crushing information before.”

  Damian’s lips parted to form a sarcastic grin. “There’s a limit. We all have our limits. She’s close to hers. She’s headstrong, unpredictable. Too damn proud. She’d run to save us all from having to watch her die.”

  Eric could not deny the truth of those words. “There’s more, Damian.”

  “More?”

  “Take a look at the data.”

  Eric took the touchpad and keyed in a password which quickly turned the code on Damian’s screen into legible text.

  “The Empress’s threat was real according to these files,” Eric said as he scrolled down to a section highlighted in red. “Freya’s termination has been imprinted in her cells. She will begin to fade away, day by day, until—”

  “What do we do?” Damian said, losing certainty altogether.

  “If she doesn’t get reprogrammed, she’ll lose her powers first and then those powers will consume the rest of her. Any attempt at using her energy sources will only accelerate the process.”

  “She’ll fade faster?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’re absolutely certain this is not a trick?” Damian said, a glimpse of hope in his eyes.

  Eric exhaled heavily. “Those files were meant to stay hidden. Only a Lagerian lord with sufficient training could open them. My sister, remember, presumed I had perished. These were not created for me to find. Now keep reading.”

  Damian became paler as he read. He looked to Eric for further clarity.

  “She needs to be reprogrammed,” Eric reiterated. “The sooner the better.”

  “And you knew this, what? A year ago?”

  “Freya asked me not to mention the Empress’s threat. As you said, they were only the words of a villain faced with death until there was proof.”

  “And I am the one to tell her of this proof? Freya’s been tortured since birth by the Empress and now she’s striking again even from the grave. How am I to tell her that?”

  “That’s an answer I don’t have,” Eric said, “but it must be done. And she can’t run. We’ll need her full cooperation if we are to save her.”

  Damian shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He nodded, running a hand across his forehead. “She might be more receptive if you told her.”

  A clanking and banging began outside. Work had started at the irrigation site across the field. “The day is beginning,” Eric said pensively. “You’re right about one thing. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do to protect you and Tobi.”

  “So, you’ll do it? She’ll be less reactive.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “It’s best,” Damian said. “But I want a day with her first. You can tell her the bad news after that.”

  Eric nodded and placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “We’ll save her, brother. This is not the first time we have faced the impossible.”

  CHAPTER 4

  FREYA

  When Freya woke up, there was no sign of Damian. As they fell asleep, they had talked about spending the morning together.

  She didn’t think much of it—they were busy enough that most plans changed as quickly as they were made. Instead, she spent the early morning with Tobi. The little boy was quite a handful now that he could walk. He loved to test the limits of everything, from gravity to his own speed to his mother’s patience.

  After dropping Tobi at preschool, she attended an administrative meeting that lasted way too long. Sitting a moment now to catch her breath and grab a bite, she started to wonder where Damian might have gone.

  She stepped outside the Administration building, sipping her bottled tea and awkwardly punching in Damian’s number into her comm device. Two hands suddenly covered her eyes from behind. The back of her neck tingled as cool lips landed a kiss there.

  “Who’s that?” she said, a grin forming on her lips.

  Damian lowered his hands to firmly grip her shoulders. “A big bad Sliman,” he whispered.

  She spun around and pressed her hands on his chest. “You like to sneak up on defenseless women?”

  Damian flashed his dark blue eyes, a shadow looming behind his smile.

  “Just you and you are hardly defenseless,” he said, coldly.

  Freya shivered. She didn’t like to see him sinking into gloom. It was too hard of a reminder of his abduction and brainwashing at the hands of the Shadow Empress. It had taken everything she had to bring him back.

  “What is it, Damian?” she said, lifting her eyes to his.

  His mood lightened, an effect of her warm touch and true concern.

  “Let’s do something fun today,” he said. “Just us. We could drive out to the Plantation district. You said you’d like to see it again.”

  Freya brushed back his hair. “Where did that come from? Don’t you have a training class after lunch?”

  “I am not up to being victim of a horde of manic youngsters fighting to prove themselves with twitchy kicks and screechy mouths.” He wrapped his arms around Freya, inhaling her scent. “I just want to be with you.”

  She enjoyed his frustration. More than a little. “Silly man, you can’t make it even a few hours away from me.”

  “Will you come or not?” he said, letting go of her.

  Freya shrugged. “Do I have a choice?” she said.

  His eyes locked with hers. “You do not,” he said, unapologetic and smug like always when on his worst behavior.

  “All right, I’ll drop Tobi at my mother’s house,” she agreed.

  Damian nodded, absentminded. Freya followed his gaze to a group of youngsters sprinting toward the open fields.

  “It seems like ages since it was the twelve of us alone,” he said, but then changed gears. “We would have either killed each other or bored ourselves to death by now.”

  “Or maybe we would have just saved the world,” Freya teased. She got on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Meet me at the eastern edge in half an hour,” she said, before hurrying back into the Administration building.

  ***

  Freya loved to drive the electric carts that the tech team on Exodus L-21 designed and manufactured for Spring Town. The carts were fast and agile and could go a long way on very little energy. Freya enjoyed the way the steering wheel responded to the lightest touch and that she did not have to use her own energy to power the transport.

  She also liked that Damian let her do the driving even though it caused him great discomfort not to be in control of the cart—or anything rea
lly.

  They drove along newly built paths through the woods to reach the point where they merged with the old road that led to the plantation district.

  Freya breathed deeply, letting fresh air expand her lungs. “We should stop using the word district. I know it’s not a big deal. There are more pressing matters, but we really should take back the naming of our world. If Eric agrees, I’ll propose a vote.”

  “Eric?” Damian said, rubbing his temples. “As if he’d disagree with anything you suggested.”

  Freya hesitated to respond. “I’m not sure I like what you’re suggesting.”

  She was so over his jealous act. Her connection to Eric was of a different nature. Damian needed to let it go already. A year had passed. The time for suspicions about Eric should have passed as well.

  The truth was simple: she and Eric shared experiences and biology. Nobody else could relate to her on that level. Confiding in him about their genetic mutations, abilities and limitations gave her great comfort.

  After an hour of driving they reached a clearing where they decided to take a break. The Plantation border was close, she could feel it. Freya had not been back since the night Plantation-15 fell, but she had been imagining her return for quite some time. Delaying unpleasant urges was not her strong suit.

  The day was bright and full of spring aromas and sounds. Freya hurried down to a crouch when she noticed an animal near the tree line at the edge of the clearing.

  “It’s a fox,” Damian said, totally disinterested in the marvels of the wild. His voice startled the fox who bolted away.

  Freya frowned. “Thanks, genius. I would have never guessed.”

  Damian raised his eyebrows. “I thought it best to warn the poor thing of the human presence.”

  She shrugged, trying not to listen.

  He stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “C’mon,” he went on while Freya gave him an eye roll. “Nothing natural would willingly stay close to humans.”

  “Then you must not be natural, because you’re like my shadow, but a shadow who talks and talks.”

  “I don’t talk and talk,” he protested.

  She put her arms around his neck. “Maybe not to others.”

  “To you, yeah, I talk, because you need so much guidance,” he whispered as he kissed her behind the ear.

  “Aren’t I the lucky one? The man who wants to crush everything is my advisor.”

  “All men have a need to hunt,” he said. “It’s primal and natural.”

  Was that a hint about Eric? She wouldn’t put it past him. “All right, I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.

  “You don’t believe me,” he said, laughing.

  “If it makes you feel better… Oh my god!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The fox. It’s back.”

  “Serious?”

  “No, I’m joking. It’s right behind that tree!”

  Now it was his turn not to believe her. “Sure, it is.”

  Freya punched his shoulder and stepped forward to take a better look at the pointy ears and auburn fur of the small animal. The fox stared curiously, tensing its leg and back muscles, ready to run off if approached.

  Damian put a tender arm around Freya’s shoulders. “It’s been so long,” he began to say, but then stopped.

  “Since?” she asked him, turning to face him.

  “Never mind. Not important.”

  “You can’t just start saying something and then stop.”

  “As you wish. It’s been so long since you last yelled at me.”

  “I don’t yell,” she said.

  The fox sniffed the air to catch their scent.

  “I fear change,” he said. “If you’re not getting mad, maybe you’ve stopped paying attention when I talk.”

  What was he on about? “Don’t be silly,” she said, plopping down to sit in the middle of the clearing. “I’ve just learned to bite my lip a little. Trust me, I still hear all your infuriating rhetoric. Does that make you happy?”

  “Yes,” he said, sitting down next to her. “Upsetting you is my gift.”

  Damian rested his head on her shoulder. “There’s something I haven’t told you,” he said as he closed his eyes.

  She grinned. “I’ve heard that before. More secrets, great.”

  “Now I’m not sure I want to tell you,” he said, standing up.

  She was about to lose patience when her throat seized up. The faintest thrush of sound tickled her ears as she glimpsed a flying blade coming from the woods. “Damian, watch out!”

  Her frantic tone triggered the Sliman inside Damian. He ducked just in time to avoid the magnetic knife headed for his skull.

  Damian quickly spun Freya to get her down and pull her behind a line of nearby brush. “What the hell was that?” he said, his senses alerted but his mind struggling to accept the fact they were being attacked.

  “Over there,” Freya said, pointing at the tree line and reaching for her receptor.

  “No,” Damian said, grabbing her hand. “It doesn’t always have to be you.”

  Was he for real? Freya’s eyes narrowed as her frustration grew. She was a fighter. She’d not stay behind when danger lurked. That should be clear by now.

  Damian scanned the area, sprang up and sprinted to the trees.

  “Goddamnit!” Freya hissed, latching onto her receptor and throwing a pulsating energy field at Damian, instantly enveloping him in a purple shield.

  Keeping a strong shield around someone who was dashing away at an increasing speed was not easy. She needed all her focus as pure energy coursed through her veins.

  A pulse gun blast targeted Damian from the tree line. The shield held steady, sparking with the jolt of impact as the blast ricocheted away.

  Damian broke into the trees, no doubt trying to shed her shield.

  “You fool,” she muttered.

  Something rustled behind her. The receptor pulsated in her hand, forcing her to turn around. She was startled to find a tall, muscular Sliman cloaked in a black hood standing a few yards from her.

  Was he friend or foe?

  The answer came swift. The Sliman attacked, covering the space between them with two quick strides. He went straight for the receptor.

  Going for a sensory receptor was never wise, but when in the hands of the only person on the planet who could yield its full force, it was suicidal.

  The receptor jerked backwards as she ordered it to light up the assailant. Nothing happened. The receptor was dead.

  The Sliman grabbed her arm. Freya tossed the receptor aside and fought to bring her palms together. The familiar jolt raced down her spine as energy spun out of her palms, striking the Sliman in the center of his chest.

  He shuddered and collapsed with a heavy thud at her feet. Freya remained still, trying to process what the hell had happened.

  Damian emerged from the trees, dragging the body of a second Sliman.

  “Is he dead?” he asked, motioning the Sliman at her feet.

  Freya nodded, barely, regret all over her face. “I didn’t have to kill him,” she said. “I should have been able to control my attack. I don’t understand.”

  “Control is hard when someone’s trying to kill you,” he said, letting go of the Sliman’s hair. “I lost control, too. I should have stayed with you.”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. How could this happen, Damian? Where did these Sliman fighters come from?”

  “We were followed,” he said, clenching his teeth. He reached down over the dead body on the ground, pulling the hood aside.

  The sight stunned her. Freya leaned over the body to study the tattoos on his face and the insignia on his shirt. “A Dark Legion fighter. How’s that possible?”

  “It’s possible,” Damian said. “They have a will of their own now. You set them free, remember?”

  “It makes no sense,” Freya said, shaking her head. “They can’t be my fighters. Even if they’re free, they’re still bound to me i
n a hundred different ways.”

  “Says who? Only one person could know that for sure.”

  “Kroll,” she said. Had his army grown tired of peace already? Had he lost his clout with them?

  Damian spotted the receptor on the ground. “What happened?”

  She shrugged. “The receptor did not respond to my touch,” she said. “I had to use my embedded force.”

  “Is it broken? You shielded me with energy only moments ago.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, picking up the sensory receptor. Instantly, a rainbow of color and light poured out of the small device. “That’s strange. It’s working now.”

  ***

  As soon as they got back to Spring Town, Freya ran ahead to summon Kroll. Damian followed despite her assertions that Kroll would respond more readily if she faced him alone.

  Freya was lost in thought when the old Sliman blocked their way.

  “Step aside, Zolkon,” Damian ordered.

  “You will want to hear this, lad,” Zolkon grunted through his yellowing teeth. He turned his attention to Freya. “You, too, girl.”

  “Out with it then,” Damian said.

  “Kroll is gone.”

  “What do you mean gone?”

  “Have you lost your hearing? He’s vanished, dematerialized from our sight. Eric has been searching for you and the alien bride.”

  Damian grabbed Zolkon by the collar. “Never call her that.”

  “Damian,” Freya scolded him. “Zolkon’s manners hardly concern me. Let him tell us what’s going on.”

  Damian pushed Zolkon aside when Eric showed up. “Is it true, Eric? Has Kroll gone?”

  Eric nodded to Damian before his gaze landed on Freya. “He left wearing a pack. He told a group of fighters he would be away for a while.”

  “Nobody tried to stop him?” Damian said, raising his voice. His face turned red like the old days. “Did you send a hunting party after him?”

  Eric considered Damian’s words. “Hunting? Why would I do that? This is a free world we’re building. We don’t hold anyone against their will.”

  “This one does not understand the way of the Sliman,” Zolkon said with a grin. “But you and I know, don’t we, Damian boy?”

  “What is going on?” Eric demanded to know.