by Wearmouth
Ever since she had those first flashbacks to the Roanoke era, her dreams and thoughts had been invaded by flashes of the terrible things the croatoan invaders had performed on her… well, self.
She looked up at the window in the small Freetown office. Dawn had just broken, bathing the landscape in a warm yellow glow that wasn’t quite strong enough to banish the cold gray of a frosty autumnal morning. The coffee burned her mouth and throat, but she didn’t care; pain was a reminder that although she was a clone she still had feelings—still had her own life.
Outside of the converted office building that Freetown used as a break room, voices and footsteps belonging to both humans and croatoans echoed through the corridor.
They were all getting ready to depart Freetown and join Unity.
Like her clone mother, it seemed Maria had to leave the only place she had considered home for some promised colony of safety. But she had seen the way of life in Unity and it wasn’t all roses and hugs.
But then without Layla and Denver, what did she have to stay around for?
The others within Freetown seemed to go about their business as though nothing had happened, as though their sacrifice was just some small thing to acknowledge and then move on.
The very fact that any of them were able to wake up and breathe should have highlighted that their sacrifice had been worth it and had brought them freedom and life. And yet, all anyone could talk about was what role they would fill in Unity.
Maria, though, had other ideas.
She wasn’t going to go to Unity. She couldn’t face confronting more of her clones. If her residual memories of her original self were anything to go by, she didn’t want to have to talk about them with the others—assuming they had the same vivid dreams about being captured and experimented on by croatoan scientists.
What if Maria was the only one?
What would that mean?
She downed the rest of the coffee. The hot liquid burned her throat and stomach, making her gasp. After a while the pain diminished, as it always did. She stood and approached the window, pressing her palms against it.
One of the harvesters stood just across the square. The thing was huge and bulky, but strangely comforting. She had spent all her formative years there working with her crew, thinking they were doing some noble deed for all of humankind. A generation ship built to take colonists to some faraway planet was a cruel delusion perpetrated by the croatoans.
In some weird way, she was actually more croatoan than human—at least in her mind. They had created her, imprinted the knowledge they had wanted her to know to carry out a specific role.
Did they also program her mind to look back on those times, look onto that harvester with a sense of sadness and longing? Ever since Charlie and Denver had ‘freed’ her from its confines she had never felt settled.
She didn’t belong in this world; she knew that.
She was an accident, a mistake. One of those small things that even the calculating croatoan council didn’t account for, or even if they did, they didn’t care about the results.
So what now? she thought. If Unity wasn’t to be her next location and Freetown was deserted, where should she go? What should she do?
Perhaps that was a question all humans had, she wondered, thinking about children and teenagers, especially those in Unity. If they weren’t pushed into something by their elders or guided by their parents, how would they know what to do with their lives?
What was the purpose of being alive? At least on the harvester she had a role. So what if it was a lie. Isn’t all of reality a lie?
The door to the break room opened. A man—a clone of Ben—entered.
Maria had renamed him Jason on account of being unable to see him as the real Ben… or at least her version of the Ben clone. He had taken to the name willingly when Layla and the others reintegrated him to Freetown after they had freed him from an abandoned harvester.
“How do you do it?” Maria asked, turning to face him.
Jason smiled at her and zipped up his farm-issue suit. The collar was frayed and tatty and the front was stained with orange smudges: spills from the root juice some of the Freetowners had started to make.
“Be so devilishly handsome, you mean?”
Yeah, that was Jason. Ben was more reserved.
Although she missed Ben, Jason was still a likeable person. Since she returned to Freetown she’d spent most of her time with Jason, talking about Tredeya, the croatoans, and what it all meant.
“Hell knows,” Jason had said in response to those questions. He knew he was a clone and knew he didn’t have the answers but seemed quite content to continue to exist without knowing.
“You’re not so bad on the eye, I’ll give you that,” Maria said, feeling her mood lift and the barest of smiles creeping onto her lips. “But I mean, how can you be so calm, so… I don’t know the word for it. Grounded, I suppose? All this craziness going on, the truth of who and what we are. It’s just…”
“Crazy as fuck?”
“Yeah,” Maria said with a hearty laugh. Jason was good at releasing tension, bringing levity to her introspection.
Jason poured himself a cup of ‘instant’ coffee and swallowed a mouthful, twisting his face in disgust. “I’ll never get used to this crap,” he said. “I’d rather drink the slop the aliens gave us on the harvester.”
“You know that was pulped people, right?”
Jason shrugged again and smirked. “People are tasty… I guess that’s why the croatoans came here. Root and tasty human flesh.”
“Ew, that makes us cannibals. You do realize that?”
“Yeah, Layla explained it to me. I don’t see the problem. We’re all just genetic material. No different to eating animals. But before you barf all over me, let me answer your question.” He took another sip of the coffee and casually sat on the edge of the table.
Maria leaned against the window, letting the cool glass touch her neck.
“From my short experience and the things I’ve observed since my release from the harvester, I believe there is no purpose. We’re just here through a combination of factors that none of us can truly understand. We’re all just motes of dust floating in a cloud of chaos. Only, when you gather enough dust, it forms a ball; when the ball gets big enough, the trajectory changes, it creates a path and hides chaos, creating an illusion of a route, a journey. But we’re not heading anywhere for anything other than destruction. We’re already dead. We are entropy in motion.”
“And that thought actually makes you happy? It’s sounds awful.”
“Think about it this way,” he said, placing the cup on the table. “If we are all just dust motes of chaos and cannot control or change anything, then why try? Why not just be happy for what we are and go with the motion? Be reactive instead of active. Some would say it’s giving up, but I would say it’s giving in to freedom, giving in to the way of the universe.”
Maria took in his words and thought them over.
She had to admit, he had a point.
The idea of just not worrying about anything anymore did appeal. Reacting to life as opposed to trying to direct it seemed like a logical answer to an existence where an individual had so little control.
Turning back to look at the harvester, she said in a small, resigned voice, “I miss it, you know? The schedule, the task, the certainty of it… hell, even the safety. As long as we did the procedures, we were safe. Layla said to me the harvester was like a womb—you know, where human babies come from when they’re not cloned in vats by croatoans.”
“I have no idea about that,” Jason said. “But I do understand the sentiment. I too miss life in the harvester. For me it wasn’t just the certainty of our job, it was the camaraderie. Out here, there are so many people to remember, not to mention the croatoans… it’s too busy. The chaos outside here is frankly tiring—which is why I sleep so much,” he added, his eyes creasing at the edges.
Two women in Freetown overalls cro
ssed the square to a building that Mike and Mai had set up as their workshop. Maria could hear their faint voices carrying on the calm wind.
Behind them, the intact harvester remained in Maria’s focus. Without turning around she said, “Why don’t we just go? Take the harvester and leave this all behind?”
She heard Jason’s response between slurps from his coffee mug. “Sure, why not? Want to go now?”
And so Maria agreed without thinking about it.
Embrace the chaos, she thought.
***
Maria didn’t find it difficult packing her items to leave. With everyone else preparing to depart for Unity, her activities raised no questions.
Maria met Jason at the front of the building. He was leaning against the wall outside of the glass doors; his hair tousled by the wind. He dragged on a root cigarette and breathed out a gaseous cloud of orange tint.
“You haven’t packed anything,” Maria said, noticing he didn’t carry a bag of items like she did.
“Don’t need anything else,” he said, patting his chest pocket, “when I have my rootsticks and good company.” He winked at Maria and flicked the charred end of the cigarette to the floor. A small ember fizzled on the frosted gravel.
He stepped closer and kissed Maria full on the lips, taking her utterly by surprise. Her body stiffened and for the briefest of moments she thought back to when Gregor was trying to ‘mate’ with her. But unlike Gregor, Jason didn’t disgust her and she found herself leaning into his body, relaxing her shoulders and returning the kiss.
They broke away and gasped for breath.
“Okay,” Maria said, her head dizzy. “That was unexpected.”
“Of course,” Jason replied with that charming smirk of his. “It’s all chaos, right? Shall we go before the others realize we’re not getting on the shuttle to Unity?”
Feeling better than she had at almost any other time since Charlie and Denver had taken her out of her previous life, she put her arm through Jason’s and walked with him across the square toward the harvester—toward her future: one with no purpose or reason, just a life to be lived and to do with whatever whim took her.
They reached halfway when a shadow blotted out the sun. Thinking it was just a cloud, Maria continued on her path. Something hot and wet splashed against the side of her face.
Jason suddenly became very heavy and she thought he had tripped, but when she looked round, she saw with horror that half of his head was missing, the skull smashed out toward the back.
Maria removed her arm. His body slumped to the ground. She wiped her cheek and stared at the blood smeared across her hand. The whine of croatoan engines filled the air, rapidly increasing in volume. She looked up and saw three shuttles and a dozen hover-bikes descending toward the square.
In the open door of one of the shuttles, a woman in army fatigues aimed a croatoan rifle at Jason’s limp body.
Maria dashed out of the way as a projectile struck Jason’s stomach. She screamed, dropped her bag and ran to the side, her heart kicking at her chest with every step. None of this made sense; her mind whirled with a mixture of trying to understand and getting to cover.
The two women who entered the workshop earlier came rushing out into the square toward Maria.
Before she had time to warn them, two croatoans on hover-bikes strafed a line of fire across their path, cutting them down instantly into a bloody mess. Maria skidded to a halt and changed direction, heading back for the main building, hoping to get down the side of it and get the building between her and the attackers.
She had no luck, though; the whole of Freetown seemed to have rushed out, presumably thinking the shuttles were for them.
“Get back inside,” Maria screamed, waving her hands.
Her voice wasn’t audible over the sound of gunfire and the whine of engines.
The mass of people panicked and ran in all directions. They hadn’t had time to organize themselves when the shuttles landed and hundreds of armed humans and croatoans flooded out, killing all those before them.
Maria sprinted to the corner of the building. As she slid round on the gravel, she tripped, cracking her head against the gray, alien concrete of the wall. She hit the ground hard, her head spinning with the impact.
She placed her hands over her ears, unable to stand the screams and the gunfire. Tears streaked down her face. What had happened? Why this? Why now? She was so close to leaving. Just her and Jason… but it seemed Chaos had other ideas.
A shadow appeared around the corner of the building. In amongst the din of war she made out the crunch of feet on gravel. When she looked up and wiped the tears and blood from her eyes, she saw a familiar figure that made her tremble with fear. She tried to back up, but fear paralyzed her.
“Ah, you’re the Maria, aren’t you?” Augustus said.
He adjusted an awful metal mask on his face. He wore no robe and sandals this time, preferring to wear an army uniform. A cruelly curved dagger hung on his belt. On the opposite side he wore a holster containing one of the croatoan laser pistols. He took the latter and pointed it at Maria’s forehead.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” Augustus said with no hint of sorrow in his voice. If anything, it was amusement that played on his words. “He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn’t personal.”
“You sick bastard,” Maria spat, finally able to find her voice. “Why all this? What did anyone here do to you?”
“Oh, nothing, but I didn’t want to take the risk they would, and besides, my force needed a little warming up before the real show. I was hoping to find you, though, so it’s quite fortuitous for us to meet so easily like this.”
“I want nothing to do with you! Kill me if you want, I don’t care anymore.”
Augustus crouched down until he was looking directly in her eyes.
“You really don’t, do you?” he said, pressing the pistol against her skull. “I could pull this trigger and turn your brains into superheated steam and you’d actually be relieved for it.” He shook his head. “It’s a terrible business this cloning. I told the croatoans at the time that it wasn’t right, but I guess my stock wasn’t high enough for me to be listened to. That’s about to change.”
To Maria’s surprise and disappointment, Augustus withdrew the pistol and replaced it back into his holster. He stood up and held his hand out to her.
“Why don’t you come with me? You never did fit in around here, did you? And Unity didn’t want you around either. I could do with some more female company. You’ll keep Zoe on her toes, that’s for sure.”
At first she thought about slapping his hand away and telling him to go to hell, but he did have a point: she didn’t fit in around here, or anywhere. Seeing her friend Jason just end like that… well, wasn’t that the point of his theory? One can’t really do anything. What will be will be.
Be reactive, she thought, hearing his words.
Maria grasped his hand and he helped her to her feet. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, Augustus gently wiped her face clean. “There, that’s much better. I can see your pretty face again.”
She could see his eyes narrow behind that awful mask of his. He was enjoying this, enjoying her.
With her heart rate coming down slightly, she composed herself and asked, “Why all this? What’s the plan?”
“Plan?” he said, clearly amused. “Isn’t that obvious? I’m going to rule the world—again.”
“But why? I mean, what’s the point?”
Augustus turned his back to her and started to walk to the edge of the building, toward the square, when he said, “Because I can. Come with me, or not, your choice.”
Because I can…
Could she?
Before Augustus disappeared around the corner, Maria decided.
“Wait,” she said. “I’m coming with you.”
CHAPTER TEN
Layla stood up and tried to walk off her anxiety. She knew Charlie and Denver were probably
as stressed and out of sorts as she, but they didn’t show it, so she tried not to either. They had to remain a strong group.
It seemed terribly important right then for everyone to keep their shit together in the face of the most bizarre of experiences.
The alternative was to lose it and let the craziness crawl to the forefront, bubbles in champagne racing to the surface. Only this wasn’t the kind of craziness that would be fun. No disinhibiting giddiness here: just sheer terror and mind-bending psychosis from which none of them would likely recover.
The Tredeyan sun filtered through the dust- and grime-covered windows of the temple. It seemed strange to her to be in a temple and not see the stained-glass facsimiles of Jesus or other religious scenes.
This particular temple didn’t put much stock into religious semiotics.
The windows were undecorated, made from a clear material that resembled glass but she couldn’t be sure. On their trek across, Layla noted a range of materials from soil to sand and other silica-based particulate. It wouldn’t be so strange to be on an alien planet and see familiar materials such as glass.
Through her knowledge of the croatoans, she knew other planets in the galaxy that harbored life weren’t so different in their makeup. And therefore the technological progress-trees were often similar.
Glass, steel, graphene, silicon, and even wood weren’t exclusive to Earth or human technological evolution.
“Are you okay?” Denver asked quietly over the intercom, although there was little need. Old habits are reluctant to leave when they find a home, she supposed.
Layla walked back to the group of bodies and sat with her legs crossed. “I’m… holding it together, for now,” she said, glad the suit Vingo had given her hid the tremble in her hands. The suit’s system seemed to realize that jittering wasn’t actual movement and the cushioned seal soaked up the vibrations.
“We will get home,” Denver said with not a scintilla of doubt in his words.
“That’s what I love about you,” she said, making the double meaning obvious. “Rightly or wrongly, you’re without doubt the most optimistic man I’ve ever met.”
