The Refugee Sentinel

by Hayes, Harrison

  Unannounced, Saretto’s tears gushed. “What you’re doing to me belongs at a prison,” he said, “not the Seattle Police Headquarters.”

  Natt lifted the man by the collar and spun him. Cold handcuff steel clawed into Saretto’s wrists.

  “Victor Saretto, I charge you with breaking the curfew provisions of Seattle City proper and with besmirching a police officer.” Natt pushed the cellist out of the office and past a row of cop cubicles, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say –”

  The two men walked through the building. Another cop arresting another curfew dodger on another day in the Pacific Northwest. Natt stuffed Saretto in the back of a police prowler and sped into the gray morning, heading toward a Capitol Hill detention center that didn’t exist.

  nine days till defiance day (39

  Sarah’s tone left no room for negotiations. “One hundred percent unacceptable.”

  “What do you want me to say?” Colton coughed like he was suffering from an asthma attack. Something fell and broke on his side of the line.

  “The ULE would rather mummify me than let me out of their sight.”

  “I only took her spot, Sarah.”

  “Unless you’ve discovered teleportation, getting us to Seattle is not going to happen.” Then she laughed in the receiver. “It would be a stretch even with teleportation.”

  “Soon you’ll be the only one left, Sarah. But now, I have as much right to be her parent as you do.”

  “Do you really think your melodramatic lines are helping the situation?”

  “I may have been the drunk who scarred Yana for life, but I’m still her father.”

  “Then you should act like one and stop being selfish.”

  “And you should, for once, put her before your work. The next nine days won’t obliterate the world any more than it already is.”

  Sarah knew he was right. On any given day, her schedule spanned from four-am to midnight. She had to give him that, even if being wrong was not Dr. Sarah Perkins’s forte. She was the world’s foremost molecular biophysicist, and humanity’s last hope of squeezing more energy out of the dog-tired Earth. The team of forty-five under her, and the management above, had gotten used to doing as she asked. Not because they were yes-men but because Sarah was always right. The ULE Ministry of Science had endorsed her inclusion in the High-Potential program and the US Territory Governor had filed the motion with the ULE Congress. Whether her Hi-Po candidacy was approved would always remain classified information, but everyone knew that Earth would be screwed if Sarah weren’t on the list.

  She knew Colton was right – only a small person would deny a father the right to see his daughter for the first time in seven years… and maybe the last time. Sarah rummaged through the dependencies on how to get this done. It was an outrageous decision tree and it also wouldn’t be her call. A committee of ULE politicians and military strategists had full control over the Hi-Pos’ itineraries and whereabouts. She paced around her desk, eyes jogging back and forth between the speakerphone and a coffee stain on the wall.

  “Shake those lab rats off your tail.” Colton interrupted her thoughts. “Move to the ULE embassy in Seattle, if you have to. When a father’s dying wish is to see his daughter, the world, and I mean the whole damn world, makes way. Least of all, this Bunsen-burner project you’re working on.” He hung up in the middle of another coughing fit.

  Sarah had to guess he was fighting a cold or perhaps coughing because of the fear that even sacrificing his life wouldn’t be enough to see Yana again.

  nine days till defiance day (40

  “Mom?” Yana’s voice hung in disbelief. “You want to go to Seattle? After what he did to us?”

  “What I said about him…” Sarah paused, her hand on her forehead. “Some of it I said when I was emotional, and –”

  “But you said he almost killed me,” Yana couldn’t believe her Mom had allowed the rebellion to last this long. “And that he could never redeem himself.” Each time they argued, Sarah would lecture with stern and complicated words Yana didn’t always understand. And that would settle it. But tonight Sarah shrunk back further, as if her daughter’s argument was pushing her out of the room. Yana knew her Mom was hiding something. Like she hid Defiance Day. And Yana was pretending not to notice. But she did notice, because everyone at school talked about how you would die unless your Mom and Dad took your spot and died instead of you. Yana also knew, though she wasn’t supposed to, that her Mom was one of the special people prohibited to Sacrifice herself. It didn’t matter, because she knew Mom would find a way to save her, in the end.

  “He did almost kill you.” Sarah’s voice started slow then grew in size. “That’s why I divorced him. But he used to be a better man, once. And he was my college sweetheart.” Yana knew her parents’ college story by heart, but didn’t interrupt. She liked hearing about the time when Mom was young, before Yana was born and before Mom’s work became more important than anything else in the world. “His love made me believe the world wouldn’t end, even if I failed to perform a scientific miracle. But then he developed a gambling addiction. And allowed gambling to take over our lives, including you and I.” Sarah pulled a graying strand of hair away from her face. “But now, he’s trying to turn the page. Why don’t you spend an hour with him in Seattle and show him what a great daughter he’s missed out on. Haven’t you wondered what he’s like?” She crossed her arms like a protective barrier. “Look… you have the right to be upset, but seeing him is important to me, too. You and I could go to Seattle together. It’s less cold there than DC this time of year.” She nodded, maybe expecting Yana to follow. “You’ll have fun, OK?”

  Yana tried to smile. “OK, Mom,” she said. “Let’s go to Seattle, if you want. But, we’re seeing Dad because you’re asking me, not because he is.”

  Sarah hugged her daughter with arms smelling of lab cultures and Yana wished she could fast forward time, until Defiance Day were finished and done with already.

  twenty-one years and one hundred sixteen days till defiance day (41

  This time he hadn’t come for the hair. Li-Mei saw it in his lifeless grin, like a notary stamp on a license to do to her the unspeakable. Today, to break her would be to spare her. The Purple Servant had come to annihilate what was decent in her, as homage to something she didn’t quite understand. Maybe that’s why they had brought her to Jenli. Six years to prepare for this... and turn her into a monument to humanity’s sins. Li-Mei’s past no longer mattered, her future was irrelevant, even death had gone into hiding. The Purple Servant was the only one here. Other than Taxi, of course.

  “Do you remember me?” the Purple Servant said.

  “I don’t, because you are forgettable.”

  “Cherish this moment, for you will never be the same after.”

  Li-Mei knew she had to be strong but around her the air was like a hot and sludgy soup. She was sweating and guessed it was what fear felt like. Her eyes asked him for mercy, then for an explanation. He gave none and she understood she'd remain eight forever. Then Taxi bumped a wet nose against her left calf, the one that the river had broken. The Shiba hadn’t checked out like the rest of Jenli. He was with her and his muzzle shook with a guttural growl. If her dog could growl at this man, why couldn’t she?

  The Purple Servant shifted weight from one foot to the other. She knelt and tickled Taxi’s ear. His growl deepened. He walked from behind her and bared his teeth. Li-Mei laughed.

  The Purple Servant responded by unsheathing the kinjal from their last encounter. The blade reflected the setting sun in a golden stripe across her face. He ran a thick tongue over his lips and thrust hips back and forth, then screamed, draining all air from his lungs.

  Li-Mei took the screams in, standing straight. She wouldn’t repeat the mistakes of their last faceoff; she would be the aggressor this time. The girl ran toward the Purple Servant, Taxi in tow. A step away from the man, she jumped with both feet, above his head. He turned ar
ound before she could land behind him. His hand, clutching the hungry kinjal, flew forward, aiming for her limbs. He smiled with the anticipation of the blade sinking in her thigh, just above the knee. Then canine teeth shredded the back of his neck.

  The Purple Servant spun around but the teeth remained locked in his nape. He let the girl land on her feet and directed his attention to the dog. Blood poured over his shoulder from the wound. He swiped at the air behind his neck and on the second try, snatched the dog’s tail then pushed the animal closer. Behind the two, Li-Mei jumped on the Servant’s ankle with both feet. It snapped with a muffled pop. The man screamed in pain then sunk the kinjal into Taxi’s body. She couldn’t see where the knife had hit but that didn’t seem to matter. He held the dog in place as an offering, twisting the blade then taking it out and hitting again, this time in a different spot. Taxi’s teeth unclenched and the Shiba fell to the ground. The Purple Servant roared, turning to sink a third and final blow, but after a step, fell to his knees, as the broken ankle collapsed under his weight.

  “How do you like my dog now?” Li-Mei shouted. “His name is Taxi in case you forgot.” She stomped her foot on the ground, as if that settled it.

  The Servant hit his forehead with a fist to refocus. With stuttered bounces, he rose up on his good leg, torn ankle dangling at one side and the purple birthmark glowing against the rest of his lilac-white face. He wiped the kinjal on his sleeve then knelt down again, all the way, until it looked like he was sitting on the ground. Then the leg uncoiled and the man flipped on his arms, two points of support instead of one, in a cartwheel. He rotated into a full-blown somersault that smashed into the girl, his thighs hitting her chest and clamping her body like an iron vise. His fists tore into her face. Left, right then left again; he kept hitting until she couldn’t feel his knuckles on her skin.

  The Purple Servant raised the kinjal above his head and plunged it into Li-Mei’s right thigh. Her flesh swallowed the steel to the hilt but she didn’t move. Another hit, in her left leg. This time she whimpered, the pain ungluing her from the unconsciousness. The Servant limped around his prey; with two gashed legs, she wasn’t going anywhere. He took in her every cut and bloodied bruise. She was the prize and the encouragement. And she was broken.

  He sat on her chest and under his knee, twisted her left arm until it broke with a soggy snap, followed by Li-Mei’s gargled screams. He took her right arm next, twisted and broke it. He turned her head to one side then grabbed her right ear and rested the kinjal’s blade at the part she would have pierced one day, as a teenager, with an earring. With a sharp tug, he cut her ear clean and threw it at the whimpering dog, injured but still alive. “Have a snack,” he said, “you’ll need the protein to recover.”

  Li-Mei widened her eyes as blood trickled out of her skull in spurts. The Purple Servant swayed like a drunk, dragged his broken ankle to a nearby bell and rung it to summon medical help. The sun was setting above the single-floor Jenli rooftops.

  nine days till defiance day (42

  Avery sat at his desk in room 1327 and held a crumpled paper between his thumb and index finger. His head was glistening bald. Ink stains spotted his military shirt and half a dozen scuffs dented his collar. His bloodshot gaze, buried behind glasses that sat too low on his nose, darted between Sarah and the paper. He took off his glasses.

  “Should I shred this request or are you going to, Sarah?” Avery leaned back and covered his face with both palms, thumbs massaging his temples in opposite circles. “A two-day vacation is out of the question. Anything else?”

  “I do insist you reconsider.”

  “The Atlas synthesis can’t afford an hour of downtime while we’re staging billions of mutation clusters.” The palms over the face distorted Avery’s voice into a mutter.

  “But even if I were to derive the correct sequence, at once,” Sarah’s fingers snapped to illustrate her words, “I’d still need to test the formula in the field, unless we figured out how to bring the ocean to DC. It could happen if the damn waters don’t stop rising, but what I’m saying is, we’ll need to perform full-scale oceanic tests in one of our coastal labs soon.”

  The man shook his head without looking up, either too exhausted or too annoyed to speak. “You’re skipping way ahead. The Atlas sequence is not ready and I can’t afford the downtime of you not being here. Field tests mean squat if the sequence continues to fail. Get it working first and frolic anywhere the hell you want.”

  “We can do both scientific and field work in Seattle, Avery. You know that. Our oceanic facilities there are the best we’ve got. The hydraulic energy of that town lights up the entire West Coast. Let’s swing for the fences on this one.” Avery’s thumbs stopped making laps around the temples but his face stayed put behind the palms. “How about I set up shop in Seattle and onboard the field to start production in the next few days? By the time we extract the sequence, their Pacific Northwest pipeline will be ready for prime time. We can just flip the switch and light up the whole continent. In another week, the world’s energy will run on algae. You know we need this, Avery. You know we’re dead without a functional production environment.”

  Avery’s hands let go of his face. His small, naked eyes blinked at the sudden torrent of light. “You want to see him that bad, huh?”

  “I do.” She leaned on the desk. “And saving Atlas happens to take place in the same city where Parker lives. That’s all.”

  “Did you know our childbirth mortality rate is at forty-eight percent?”

  “How is that relevant?”

  “One of two kids, in this Territory, dies at birth, not because of a protocol failure or a disease. Some doctors are… you know, envious of newborns.” Avery put his glasses back on. “Some earmarked doctors like dragging their patients down with them. Best case, they don’t want to help create new life. It’s like, babies get born by themselves these days.”

  “These are hateful –”

  “Are they, Sarah?” He jumped to his feet, pointing a gun at her face. Sarah remained motionless. “Are they?” The fatigue had left his mauve face. “Like them, I will die in a few days… But you won’t. You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to blow your goddamn Hi-Po brains out.” He panted as if in the middle of a marathon. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t shoot you right here.”

  Her face eked out a smile. “Your grandson,” she said. “You’re dying in a few days, but will he?” The metallic muzzle remained fixed on her forehead. “Will you Sacrifice for him? So he can have a better life than you did? Shoot me, Avery. But who else could pick up Atlas from where I left off? And will they produce more energy for your boy than I will?”

  The gun slithered off his hand and fell on the floor. “I’m tired, Sarah.” His eyes locked with hers, as if seeking assurance that Project Atlas was going to work. He collapsed in the chair. “Damn you… Go, but be careful in Seattle and remain in the ULE embassy, at all times. It’s an order. Will you be contacting outsiders, other than Parker?”

  She thought for a moment. “I’ll need to find a replacement piano teacher for Yana. That’s it.”

  “Pick someone who clears the ULE background checks and stick to the visitation protocol... Do they have blind piano teachers in Seattle?” Avery’s shoulders shook with either laughter or sobbing. Sarah preferred not to have to guess.

  nine days till defiance day (43

  Seattle bathed in the evening dusk. Natt woke with a snap, the back of his head hitting against the car seat. He rubbed a palm over his face and smacked his mouth, thick with un-flossed breath. He recognized the inside of his work car, exhaled and turned around. He recognized Saretto there too, awake but quiet in the back seat.

  “Mr. Gurloskey… sir?” Saretto’s shaky voice travelled through the divider mesh. “There’s been a terrible mistake. I’m sure I can explain.”

  Again, Natt smacked his mouth and opened the glove compartment with a grunt. Damn, no chewing gum left. He was tired, too tired to cut Saretto o
ff. Waking up in the prowler drained Natt every time. The car seemed to have changed Saretto too. In fewer than four hours, the cellist had gone from thrashing, to being quiet, to groveling. Natt was about ready to grovel too. How much longer was she going to be? Her text had said to meet her at the flooded Walmart in the SoDo area. But that was four long hours ago.

  Fresh whining interrupted Natt’s thoughts. “Sir? It’s getting dark. I’ll miss my mandatory sign-in, tonight.” Then a car engine growl, followed by brakes prompted him to glance outside. Piercing headlights stopped a foot from the prowler’s front tires and the newcomer’s car shut down. Acres of empty parking and an evening with the color of ink engulfed the two vehicles.

  Saretto broke into muffled cries. Natt pumped the air with a fist. High damn time, darling, he thought and unbuckled his seat belt, then turned to Saretto. “Don’t worry, pumpkin. We’ll check your records and have you off in a jiff. Not even jail, you lucky dog.” Natt patted the steel mesh with a reassuring palm and jumped out. He crouched by the door of the other car with his palms on his bent knees.

  “Who’s in the prowler with you?” Li-Mei said.

  “You’ll be pleased, my lady.”

  “Quit the Alexander Dumas bullshit and answer the question.”

  “Come find out.” Natt wouldn’t have dreamed of such fraternization with Li-Mei, but the cellist inside the prowler made for a great icebreaker.

  “Saretto or Parker?”

  “What have we got on today’s menu? A cellist or a gambling man?” Natt spun around like a ballerina and opened the prowler’s back door. Saretto’s head poked from the inside.

  Li-Mei got out of the car and walked to the cellist, who was trembling – either with fear or with the evening chill. “I owe you an apology, sir, for how you’ve been treated. And I’m here to rectify your situation,” she said, maybe to stunt her victim’s resistance by offering him normalcy for the remaining few minutes of his life.