He reached for his pulse gun when he realized the vehicle was an armored Plantation rover. Just his cursed luck. Now he’d have to deal with humans brash enough to loot a plantation.
His eyes squinted against the hot midday sun. The rover door swung open and Freya stepped out of the vehicle. She waved to him from a distance and then ran over to greet him.
Kroll lowered his gun. He was partially convinced he was hallucinating.
“I was hoping I’d find you here,” Freya said with a grin. “Rumors of a beastly man taking the whip to the Longhorn Sliman have been going around.”
Kroll met her stare, his eyes revealing nothing.
“No one was very happy about your sudden departure,” Freya went on. “What in the world are you doing out here in the wilderness, Kroll? There’s a whole army and a whole community depending on you.”
A scowl darkened Kroll’s face. “The war is over,” he said. “Get onto that scavenged transport and turn back.”
She shot him a sharp glance. “I’m not leaving without you. War or no war, you’re part of a community now.”
“Well, then, welcome to the asshole of the world.”
“This is no way to greet an old friend, Kroll.”
He spun and dashed away. Freya watched him go, stunned. As she came to her senses, she threw a force field at him, trapping him inside. Kroll tried to punch his way through the shield, but that only increased his rage.
Eventually, he managed to crash repeatedly into the shield, pushing it forward a few feet at a time. Freya marveled at the spectacle. No one had ever been able to move one of her solid shields, but Kroll was not only freakishly strong, he was freakishly stubborn as well.
She lost patience, adding more force to the shield to pull it back to her, knocking Kroll off his feet and dragging him along the ground.
“You know,” she said, approaching him, “I do realize how unfair this is, but I’ve come a long way to talk.”
Kroll growled. “Do not shame me in front of my men.”
Freya looked around at the drunken Sliman who were mostly asleep with their mouths hanging open, some of them snoring. “You mean these men?” she said, amused. “They would have to be conscious for that to be valid.”
Kroll stood up, an angry glint in his eyes. “You are not safe near me.”
She considered his words. “I’ll take my chances. Last month I blew a Lagerian mothership out of the sky. Turns out they were able to send dark whispers through our mutated genes. That’s no longer a thing.”
Kroll opened his mouth, but no words came out. He tried again. “How can you know about my dark voices?”
“They did the same to Eric, only worse. Before their ship was destroyed, we were aided by a Lagerian woman, who has become our friend and citizen of Spring Town. She told us everything, Kroll. They wanted you to kill me.”
Kroll pinched her arm, hard.
Freya screeched, rubbing the pinched spot. “This will bruise, you beast.”
“You will survive. I had to make sure you are not a hologram.”
“I’m not a freaking hologram,” she said, still wincing from pain.
“But you are friends with a Lagerian. That might be worse.”
“I should set you two up for a date. She’s extremely likable.”
“You like to speak your nonsense. Love is for the puny or the human.”
Freya rolled her eyes. “You speak quite a bit of nonsense yourself.”
Kroll waved her off, before turning back to address the inebriated dregs that littered Longhorn’s main road. “Scoundrels,” he shouted. “Today is your lucky day. Kroll, leader of the Dark Legion, leaves you to your misery.”
He laughed heartily before joining Freya for the trip home.
***
Kroll itched to get back to his Dark Legion, but Malzod insisted he sit with him first and approve every single decision made during Kroll’s absence.
“That’s all very well,” Kroll said with an exaggerated yawn after hearing a long list of trivialities.
“That will be all then,” Malzod said, picking up his paperwork. The Sliman rebel had turned out to be quite the dedicated bookkeeper.
Kroll took his leave, pleased to breathe fresh air again. He decided he had done his share of walking for the year and headed over to the electric carts.
Arriving at the parking lot, he froze on the spot as if a ten-foot ogre had blocked his way. The strangest looking creature was observing the carts, as if they were exhibits of historical significance.
Kroll itemized her strange details. Her arm was prosthetic, her face was scarred, her ears were pointy, and her waist was high.
Much of the creature’s appearance reminded him of the one he had hated the most: his maker, the Empress of Shadows.
Lada sensed his presence. She immediately wrapped her veil around the scarred half of her face and turned to him. She did not like what she saw.
Kroll raised his hand, embarrassed to be caught staring. “I am here for the carts,” he said, hoarsely.
She moved aside to clear a path for him. He walked by her slowly, deliberately, forcing himself to avoid staring.
He hopped on a cart and switched on the ignition.
Kroll hesitated. “Were you going somewhere?”
Lada tilted her head. “Everywhere is somewhere.”
“Right.” He glanced at her like she was head damaged. He took in two lungs full of air which was fragrant and life affirming.
“If you are asking me to ride with you,” Lada said, “I will.”
He did bring this on himself.
Lada remained still, awaiting a response.
Kroll deliberated. “The cart has two seats,” he said.
She climbed onto the cart next to him. Then she turned to him and tried to form a human smile. Her eyes were as bright as a child’s. Her face gained a shyness that was a new emotion.
Kroll immediately regretted the whole thing. “You are Freya’s friend,” he said, strangely fascinated.
“Yes,” Lada said. “I trust her most.”
“It is true. She can be trusted. I am Kroll.”
Lada gasped. “You are the one they call Kroll?”
He nodded, a bit concerned about what she might have heard.
“I’ve heard of your attributes. You are ferocious, noble and strong,” she said with complete reverence.
“Yes,” Kroll said, tilting his head down to her. “Those are but a few of my many attributes.”
“It is an honor to ride the cart with you,” Lada said, pleased.
Kroll turned to watch the road ahead. He had no clue where he should take her or what he should show her. When he was sure she was not looking at him, he, too, attempted a human smile. It was a struggle and began to strain the bones of his face.
“I think humans are strange,” he blurted out.
The silence quickly became too awkward to bare.
“Yes,” Lada said. “I think this same thing.”
He could enjoy the air again, now that the silence was gone.
CHAPTER 21
PAST AND PRESENT
Love and loss had become one to me, yet another grotesque hybrid born in this world of hybrids and monsters.
I survived the nights sheltered in thoughts of Faith. When I closed my eyes, memories trickled like a muddy river. In that state, every breath is a precious agony. I stayed alive to keep our memories alive. I was a forgotten monk, protecting a sacred scroll written in sensual impulses, a beauty so pure it could save the world or, at least, one lost soul.
It took years before I joined humans again. It wasn’t planned, but when I came upon a famished nomad family, I saw the need in their sunken eyes. I couldn’t stand by and deprive them of a chance to live.
Little by little, I managed to forge a new community of human souls, most of them nomads running away from histories almost as savage as mine. Even then, I remained guarded and distant. I served them, nothing more.
My
heightened senses kept us safe from the Sliman rangers. My instincts and speed led us to the scarce prey we needed for sustenance.
We traveled the mountainous highlands or crossed through deserts at night, never staying in the same place too long. Constant change kept me sane.
But then a day arrived when I heard my bloodline calling to me. My brain whispered of my desire to rediscover my origins.
It was foolish, but I felt compelled to lead my people to the big woods near the Plantation district, where my life had been sparked in an alien lab.
The promise of abundant food sources convinced myself and them to make the perilous journey. We just had to stay in the shadows. They were safer with me than without me, I told myself. And I had to go, it was the only way to quiet the demons that lived inside me.
We set up camp in the mountains, only braving the valley when there was absolute need. I spent hours meditating in the crisp mountain air, purging my soul of worldly needs, like a life mate. I took lovers among my people, but never allowed it to become emotional. I honored Faith in that way.
If there was one thing I had learned, it was that nothing lasts forever. All things can shatter within a single moment. So, when we found a Sliman knife near our water source, I decided to investigate.
The Grain Village was the closest community to our campsite. It was well known that spring was the time children were collected from the villages, which meant a sudden spike in Sliman population within the region.
I wanted to make sure they posed no threat to us, but I also yearned to witness with my own eyes the progress of Eldaria’s dark works.
I approached from the south, with no intention of getting any closer to the village than was necessary. There were men gathered at the village square, skinning dead animals. There were no guards in sight. Women walked about aimlessly, children pulling at their skirts.
Then a Sliman guard showed up, barking out orders. After a few minutes I realized this was not a useful way to uncover Eldaria’s schemes.
I turned to go, disappointed in myself for taking a needless risk, when I saw her: a young woman, dressed in shorts and T-shirt. Like me, she was observing the village activity, but through compact binoculars.
Crouching down to watch her, my heart pounded in my chest. I could not quite see her face, but I knew she did not belong to the village.
There was no easy way to label her within the parameters of the worlds I had traveled through. For the first time, I had come upon a human who didn’t shy away from the oppressors or their mutant armies. Instead, her manner was full-on aggressive, as if she was about to pounce and take on the guards.
She left me speechless. I realized she was a curiosity I needed to investigate. I snuck behind her, my footfalls as soft as a mountain lion, and snatched away her binoculars while pressing my hand against her mouth.
The strange girl fought me, but she finally agreed that when I took my hand off her mouth, she would not scream. I spun her around. My heart leapt into my throat. The resemblance to Faith was stunning. The same petite build, unruly brown hair, big almond-shaped eyes and full lips.
And there was that same stubbornness, too.
We silently gazed at each other’s appearance and dress. The girl was as stunned as I to be in that moment.
I reached inside my huge coat pocket.
“What are you doing?” she asked, fixing her eyes on my moving hand.
Her eyes were clear and fearless. In fact, she had a look like she was giving me a moment before she would take me out.
Faith had once looked at me that way.
I slowly pulled out a wound rope I had stuffed in my coat.
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” she said.
If I opened my mouth, I was convinced I would give away too much. Instead, I shut up and pretended to be dim. She watched closely as I made a loop with the rope and threw it around a branch to pull a sensor down.
She was impressed but composed. “What exactly are you?”
This was not a villager or a nomad. Her few possessions attested to that. Her clothes were unwrinkled, her backpack tidy. Her skin and hair were unblemished like she washed every day. Humans in the wild did not look or smell like that, and villagers were but human shadows.
I had never been so intrigued. I made the decision instantly even though I knew my people would not be pleased. “You’re coming with me,” I told her.
She looked defiant, yet she followed willingly as if it had been her idea.
I took note as she observed every detail like a scout. At times she looked as innocent as a child. At other times, she looked as fierce as a predator.
With the benefit of time, I know that in that moment I was not leading her anywhere. It was she who led me everywhere. She was the predator, but also the child. Not afraid to feel hope and express vulnerability, but she could also show her teeth and hunt. She hunted humanity, hanging it up in front of my eyes like a trophy, forcing me to look at myself and judge and decide.
It’s why I had to oppose my sister. It’s why I have returned again and again to my humanity and it’s why Freya and I will forever be linked.
That moment I first saw her, it was already too late.
***
Freya exhaled. The room expanded around her and shrank again. She had sat quietly at the foot of his bed while Eric recounted his whole story for the first time.
“You’ve always wanted my past,” Eric concluded. “And now you have it.”
She smiled tenderly, his words still buzzing in her blood. “Eric, thank you. That was beautiful. There was, and is, so much beauty in your story. You never killed Faith. You never killed the beauty. You live it, every day.”
He grinned. “Are you sure your power is not bullshit?”
“No, it’s right there. And if you look beyond your guilt, you’ll see it, too.”
His room was a mess. Discarded food had petrified on surfaces, open books lay scattered about, piles of laundry filled up corners. This was not like Eric at all. Since returning to Spring Town, he had lost all purpose.
Freya spent as much time with him as he would allow. She often suspected that he was blowing her off, that being around her was too much for him. At those times, she felt like she had stolen his essence.
When he began his tale, she was astonished that he decided to open up about his past. It wasn’t like she hadn’t asked him before. The most he ever offered were a few hastened sentences about his growing powers and the attack that killed his family and another that killed the woman he loved and that he had blamed himself for all of it.
“What did you mean exactly, when you said the moment you first saw me it was already too late?”
He did not respond.
“Eric?”
“Yeah, I heard you.”
“You don’t have to give me an answer.”
He took in a deep breath. “Your heart has always belonged to another. There would be no point to examine my own feelings.”
She hesitated. “And what are those feelings exactly?”
“If you’re going to tell me I projected my feelings for Faith onto you, save your breath. I’ve had a lot of time to analyze my motives. I don’t understand anything if I’m being honest. All I know is that since Aspis, it has become impossible to hide from any of my feelings. Maybe I had created a protection shield that kept my feelings in a box and now that shield has been destroyed.”
Something broke in her. “I don’t know how to live without you anymore,” she said, swallowing down a sob. Weird premonitions seized her throat. She brushed her hair back. “Every moment of every day, I feel the bond we share grow, your gift of energy traveling through my body, keeping me alive.”
“It’s a good thing,” he said. “Embrace it, Freya, make the energy yours and yours only. Don’t have regrets. Our bond is ours and I’m here for you.”
“Sometimes it feels like you don’t want me near you.”
“I’m learning to be a new man. It wil
l take time.”
“That makes sense,” she said. She got up and kissed his cheek. “There is work to be done,” she said, wiping a few tears. “I’ll see you later.”
When she left, a moment passed and then Kroll walked in.
“Can I help you, Kroll?” Eric said, arching an eyebrow.
Kroll paced about Eric’s room, cataloguing every detail.
“That is not the question,” Kroll stated. “The question is, can I help you? You’re wasting away. I am here to help you change the outcome.”
“Now you believe in change?” Eric said, wistfully. “No, my friend, there is no changing this outcome. Degeneration accelerates every day. It’s not a matter of if but when.”
Kroll stopped in front of Eric. He strained his neck to sniff him. “It’s a miracle Freya hasn’t noticed. Maybe she doesn’t want to see.”
“And you will not tell her,” Eric said, glaring at Kroll. “I will not be mourned while yet alive.”
A solemn respect grew in Kroll’s dark eyes. “You have my word, hybrid.”
Eric nodded, touched by the more soulful Kroll. He wanted to spare Freya as much pain as possible. When he was gone, she would feel his absence with every fiber and every flicker of her life force. For now, he wanted her to smile.
He wasn’t afraid of the vast unknown beyond mortal life, but his heart ached for a little more time in the world, a little more human touch.
Now it was the living on his mind, not the dead.
CHAPTER 22
FREYA
Curled up on the couch, still in her nightgown, Freya watched Damian sleep. His chest rose and fell with every breath he took. She walked to the bed, her fingers tracing his jaw line.
He stretched his body, turning slightly to his side. He grabbed her hand and kissed it. “How long have you been awake?” he said, rubbing his eye.
“Not long,” she said, bending over to kiss him.
“Hmm, I could get used to that.”
“I bet you could,” she said, grinning.
She slapped his hand away when he tried to pull her onto the bed. “There is a reason I woke you up,” she said.
“Uh huh.”
[scifan] plantation 06 - plantations origins Page 13
