Sidney's Escape

by Nirina Stone

  “Wait,” Gideon says. “Where and when did this—thing—follow you, exactly?”

  “I’m guessing you’d found it in the broken Dome,” Henry says as he runs a hand through his hair. “That explains everything.”

  She doesn’t know what he means by ‘everything’ but she nods her head and looks down at her shoes, embarrassed at the negative attention. It’s about what she’d expected to happen if she got caught, but still—she never enjoyed getting a scolding from Nayne, and she definitely enjoys it far less, now.

  Still, she doesn’t argue. She knows she’s in the wrong here. “A promise,” Nayne had always said, “is a contract. It’s not something you’re allowed to break. Ever.” She’d understood that to mean that, to break a promise, you’d have to not be a very good person. She doesn’t feel like a very good person right now.

  Lashes is doing what it needs to do out there and stands in the doorway of the tent, watching the people inside as if trying to determine the mood before coming back in or heading back out. Its eyes are on Sidney. It carries a tiny bluish-purple fruit in its mouth, like the one it had shared with Sidney.

  “I’m sorry,” Sidney says, her hands twisting in and out of each other as she keeps her head down, her eyes also on Lashes. “She was alone—and very sweet—and I couldn’t just leave her in there when she wanted to come with me. She’s so—”

  Gideon throws a hand in the air. “None of that matters,” he interrupts her. “Do you understand that if you try to bring this thing into the Red Dome, they will destroy it? They will kill it, Sidney.” His voice is raised. He’s never actually shouted at her before. The way his shoulders shake as he does so tells her he’s not exaggerating. He must have witnessed something like this, she decides. He must have seen first-hand that they do that.

  “I won’t bring her into the Dome,” she promises, realizing her word means nothing to him any more. Still, she insists, “I don’t want her to die, I will leave her out here, but please, for tonight, for now until we walk tomorrow, can we please keep her?”

  Gideon finally turns to take a close look at Lashes. As if on cue, the animal hops up to him and places a tiny paw on his left shoe. “What is she?” Henry asks, as if Sidney would know the answer to that.

  “It looks a lot like a Red bush squirrel,” Gideon says, his voice still shaking. Then he leans down to touch Lashes’ head. It reaches up on its hind legs to push its head into his hand and lets him scratch it, just so. Then it places the fruit in its paws like it did with Sidney, and offers it to Gideon, who doesn’t budge.

  “It’s okay,” Sidney says. “It’s edible. I had one, in the broken dome. I think it’s Lashes’ way of saying, ‘Hello’.”

  “I don’t know,” Gideon says as he accepts the fruit then rolls it in his hands suspiciously. “I don’t know.”

  Still, he takes a small bite of the thing. Before he even swallows it though, he runs to the outside of the tent to vomit it all back out again. Sidney looks at him, wondering if maybe that one was overly ripe or—something.

  He watches her for a moment, wiping his mouth. Then he mutters something. She doesn’t quite catch the words, but it sounds like he says, “She could eat it—the planet’s fruit—that means—Sidney. When did you get the flu?”

  She’s had it for as long as she’s alive. “Nayne told me since I was in her stomach,” she replies, wondering what that has anything to do with Lashes, or the fruit.

  His voice raises as he mutters even faster, his eyes still on her. She catches only the occasional word. “Passed the placenta-barrier,” he mutters as he runs a hand frantically through his hair. “Explains why she’s not dead. Why—”

  Then, as if deciding something but not wanting to share it with them, Gideon smiles. He tut-tuts at Lashes. Then, coming to his senses, he turns away from the squirrel abruptly. Something in his eyes reminds Sidney of the times Petra would analyze her, scan her. “All right, kid,” he says without looking at her again. “It can stay with us, but it’s gone tomorrow. Don’t be eating anything else it brings from the Barren, either. You can’t let it in the Red Dome. Not unless you’re okay with its death on your hands.”

  “Hey now,” Henry says. “Bit harsh there, mate.”

  “If she wants the responsibility of it, she needs to know the repercussions,” Gideon spits back. “Mate.”

  Then he heads into his enclosure, pulling up the zipper so hard, they know it’s his way of saying ‘end of discussion.’

  Henry stares at the closed stall, then kneels down to scratch Lashes’ head as well. Then his eyes land on Sidney.

  “What was all that about?” she asks, knowing fully well as Henry shakes his head, he’s as lost as she is when it comes to Gideon.

  “Well,” he dismisses, “you heard the man. Now—what else does this little squirrel eat?”

  Petra

  IT’S NIGHT TIME AGAIN by the time she’s fully recharged. She tests her systems—stronger, faster. Even more so than the first time she was rolled out on the factory floor—in the Gold Dome, where all the bots are built.

  This is new information—not something she was aware of before. Not information she needs quite yet, but it runs through her with millions of other memories, all mixing in with her absolute conviction of her directive—find Sidney, find Henry.

  She turns South by South East and prepares to run. She’s not far now—then a scream reaches her and her immediate directive changes.

  For her first job is to always help Allendians and an Allendian is in danger to her South West. She bursts into a run, and though her feet sink slightly into the earth, a higher panicked scream makes her run faster.

  She only skids to a stop when she takes in the scene ahead. Four Allendians, one slightly smaller than the others. They are facing down several long red beings. Serpents, her system says. The Allendians are about to be eaten, as the smaller one screams again.

  Petra reaches for her reserves, but finds nothing in her left leg. No weapons, not even a taser. So she throws herself forward, splitting into her most basic form. Stronger, faster. She doesn’t stop when more screams reach her, only when her systems tell her the serpents are no more.

  She’s in one piece again, standing in front of the Allendians not a minute after removing the threat.

  They watch her from behind their masks. Their eyes widen as they take her in. Clearly, they’ve never witnessed a bot like her before. She smiles as she approaches them slowly. “Are you all right?” she asks, though she can see they are. They don’t budge for a few minutes and she stands still, not wanting to scare them more than they already are. “Can you find shelter?” she asks. For if they can’t, her next directive is clear—bring them to the Red Dome so they are safe.

  The smallest one throws its arms around her and chatters away. Not as small as Sidney, she thinks, but still—a child.

  “How did you do that?” it chatters at her as the older Allendians move in closer.

  “What are you?” the biggest one says.

  “I am your companion,” is the automatic reply. “I must bring you to the Red Dome, where you will be safe.”

  She turns, expecting them to follow her. Instead, the smallest one keeps its arms around her as if to never let go. “It is all right, young Allendian,” she assures. “I will bring you to civilization. You’re safe now.”

  Still it doesn’t let go.

  A small alarm to her side tells Petra these Allendians are not what she expects. They do not mean to follow her to the Red Dome. They do not mean to let her go either.

  Her directives shift again, just as they throw oversized nets in her direction. They mean to trap her—to what end?

  She runs through the possibilities—faster than her systems had ever run before. They are out here in the Barren, dressed in outfits she attributes to the Barren—not a part of the civilization in any of the domes. Feral, she summarizes. None of them have the flu, but they’re not civilized like other Allendians. Their outfits are made
from—reptile skin, she analyzes—and something else—not animal. Human.

  Before the biggest one reaches her, meaning to shut her down, she splits into powder again. Her energy reserves normally allow for one, then she’s down for the count for a long time. This is the second time she’s splitting apart in a span of a few minutes. How long will she be out for this time? It doesn’t matter, her time runs out and the world is black again.

  Chapter Fifty Three

  Sidney

  THEY HAVE A SMALL MEAL of their last protein bars, dried raisins, and a variety of other foods Henry found in the broken dome. Of course Lashes gets to have a bit or so of their little feast, and Sidney realizes for the first time just how comfortable this all makes her.

  “I could handle this,” she mutters as she wonders just how much life will change tomorrow once they’re in the Red Dome. Community is the word Nayne used to bring up every now and then. “It’s important to be part of a Community,” she’d say. “My only regret in life is that you don’t get to experience that, you’ve been far too isolated.”

  But she’d say back to Nayne, “All I need is you, Nayne. I don’t need anyone else.”

  Nayne would laugh and pull her in for a tight hug. “I love you too, baby girl,” she’d say. “You’re the only one I need too.”

  Sidney hasn’t thought about Nayne this much until recently, she wonders why she keeps popping up in her mind lately. Maybe it’s because I wish she was with us—I wish she could have met Petra, Henry, Lashes—even Gideon. I bet she’d spend hours asking questions of this old man. She’d want to know everything he knows about their world, and about the other domes. That was her style. Sidney keeps her eyes on Gideon and wonders if Nayne would have liked him. Probably, she thinks, though there’s still something about him she doesn’t trust.

  “She’s quite the character, isn’t she?” Henry says as he offers Lashes another raisin. The squirrel grabs the raisin and chews on it a mile a minute then watches him expectantly, knowing that it’s not the last piece of food he’ll offer.

  “She is that,” Gideon agrees. “But not wild—I wonder why—”

  “What do you mean by not wild?” Sidney asks.

  “I mean it listens. It’s almost like it understands what we’re saying. Huh, I wonder.” He turns to Lashes and says, “Sit, Lashes. Sit.”

  The squirrel looks back at him and he tries again but is met with a cock of its head. When he reaches out to her with a small bite of bread, it hops forward. Then he says, “Sit,” again, placing the crumb on the ground. Lashes leans back onto her haunches, her eyes still on him. He says, “Good! Very good,” and offers another piece of food after she’s eaten the crumb on the ground. They try a couple more tricks with her, then finally Sidney yawns out loud, stretching her arms into the air, her eyes closed.

  “On that note,” Henry says. “We should get a good rest tonight. Tomorrow, we walk to the Red Dome. Finally.”

  “Indeed,” Gideon says as he walks towards his compartment. “Bright and early tomorrow, everyone, and you—” he looks down at Lashes. “Sidney’s going to want to stay up playing with you, but you make sure she gets enough sleep.”

  Sidney laughs at his words but he doesn’t respond. Wait—she thinks. Does he really believe the squirrel understood all that? It’s smart, she gives it that, but come on.

  In any case, she heads to her compartment and Lashes bops along until they’re both inside. Though she hears Henry and Gideon zip up their tents, she doesn’t bother to zip up hers in case Lashes wants to head out again. Then she lies down in the small but cushiony sleeping bag and closes her eyes, not noticing until now just how heavy and tired her head felt. She's so tired she thinks she'll have a dreamless sleep, so when it comes she almost believes what she witnesses is real.

  She dreams that she’s a foot taller. She’s chasing—someone. she’s not sure exactly who she’s looking for, but they keep escaping her, somehow.

  Then, she’s fighting people but they’re far too strong. Finally, her entire body pulls apart into dust, but she senses every little bit, every molecule like it’s being ripped from within her and she wails.

  She’s nothing but dust now—no one can hear her or see she’s still there and she can’t pull herself together again, no matter how hard she tries.

  The worst part, the very worst part is the pain. She screams as it moves up her torso, through her neck and into her brain, as if someone’s using a needle to poke and prod through her, to see what she’s seeing. Why don’t they just kill me? Why doesn’t someone just kill me? She wakes up screaming, tears flowing down her face, and Henry runs to hold her in his arms again.

  “It’s okay, Sidney,” he says. “I’m here. I’m always here.”

  “Do you promise?” she cries, holding onto him like a lifeline. “Do you promise?”

  He hesitates, as if looking for the right words. “I promise.” He lies on the ground beside her and she believes him as she closes her eyes again, clutching tight onto his arm.

  Lashes moves up to the side of her neck then purrs as it makes itself comfortable at the top of her head, allowing its bushy red tail to rest on the back of Sidney’s neck. Before she knows it, she’s asleep again.

  When she wakes up in the deep dark, she panics for a moment, not remembering where she is. She throws her hand up, pushing away whatever it is that’s wrapped itself around her neck, then in a split second, realizes it’s Lashes. Squirrel, she thinks. Right. I’m in a tent. Gideon and Henry are nearby. We’re getting to the Red Dome tomorrow.

  But what woke me? She lies still to catch her bearings, as Lashes rustles away to head out of her compartment. Maybe she needs to use the ground outside again, Sidney thinks. Gideon’s right. She’s trained. Smart, at the very least.

  So Sidney slowly gets to her feet, thinking she might need to use the facilities as well. Her eyes are still half closed as she walks towards the outer door of the tent, but the moment she pulls the zipper down, a cold shiver down her back tells her something’s wrong. Years of hunting and living in the Blue Dome kick in and she turns swiftly, facing the rest of the tent. Nothing but silence, and the occasional flutter as red snow outside lands on the top of the tent. What was that? She looks around—Gideon’s compartment is still shut tight as is Henry’s. There’s something off—something different, though she can’t place it. Then, as wind pushes against the door to Henry’s compartment, she runs towards it, yelling Gideon’s name at the top of her lungs. She pulls down the zipper to Henry’s room at the same moment Gideon trip-falls out of his, his white-hair splayed everywhere, and they both stand, mouths gaping, in Henry’s empty room. Material flaps in and out across from them as red snow billows all over the room, before Gideon pushes her aside and closes up the zipper again.

  “Don’t breathe it in!” he yells at the same time, and the sudden change is too much to take in. Where is he? Who took him? For it’s painfully clear the tent material was cut away, and Henry’s gone.

  Chapter Fifty Four

  Henry

  HE HAD MADE SURE SIDNEY was snoring softly when he walked away from her compartment. If he’d known what would come, he would have stayed right there on the hard ground; but he was fast asleep when they came, three of them, with Ariadne in the lead of course. Once they grabbed him and he recognized her figure in the dark, several emotions passed through him, none of them surprise. Really, he knew she wanted him because of his whatever-this-chest-thing was that Petra built into him. It was just a matter of time, wasn’t it? He struggled and punched out, wincing at the crunch under his knuckle. A loud grunt from his opponent told him he’d made contact with a now-broken nose. Before he could instill more damage, Ariadne hissed, “You make another move and we kill the girl. We’re only here for you. Understood?” She held a small dagger against his neck.

  He nodded his head and stood up willingly, knowing there was no way he was going to try to fight them. If it was just her, maybe, but she’d held him from behind while
a second raider guarded the door to his room, and the third raider sprinted to the cloth wall closest to Sidney’s room, meaning to rip through and get to her before Henry could do a thing.

  How did they even know our set up in here? Still, he doesn’t resist, and they pull a mask over his face as they head out into the Allendian night. In any other night, he’d love to sit out here and admire the sand snows billowing around them. Right now, all he can think of is a future filled with pain, maybe death. He hasn’t a clue.

  His arms are tied behind him and he’s placed in the car of a small vehicle, not unlike the type that Gideon built. Then they drive away, west, from what he can tell, for several minutes.

  Despite the fact he’s still tired, still hopeful for some shuteye, he keeps his eyes wide open as they come upon another dune—he doesn’t see the lip in front of them, but before he knows it, the bikes drive down an incline, down down down into the earth. He doesn’t have a chance to be frightened—he simply feels a tightening in his chest, and a relief that at least Sidney will be safe. She’ll be at the Red Dome tomorrow—she’ll miss him, sure, and she’ll never know what happened to him.

  But she’ll be fine, he thinks. He hopes.

  Chapter Fifty Five

  Sidney

  GIDEON KNEELS ON THE ground, taking a close look at a print, then fingers the split tent material and stares out into the Allendian sky.

  “Hmm,” he says. “Ariadne.”

  Though she can’t see what’s made him come to the conclusion, she comes in closer. “How long ago did they get him?”

  “I’m not certain,” he says, “but I’d say within the hour.”

  “We have to go save him!” she yells as she makes a move towards the split in the tent.

  He stands in front of her. “How, child?” he asks. “They’re an army of people. Hundreds, last I checked. We can’t save him.”