The Humanarium

by CW Tickner

  He spoke of Gorman, telling how the old man had planned their escape from the tank, and then sealed himself inside to face the horror of the blacking disease alone. Damen nodded in admiration. It was almost too much for Sonora. She curled her arms around her knees, tears glistening at the corner of her eyes, but her sad smile told him to continue.

  And then, finally, he recounted how they had traversed the floor of the shop, their experiences inside the tray, escape, and the dawning truth of their existence as slaves to be sold.

  Murmurs ran around the camp, but they were hushed and everyone seemed to be clinging to his words. Shock was evident on their faces in the amber light. It was clear that they had never known about the existence of humans beyond the fringes of Delta.

  Damen spoke after a long deep silence.

  ‘This is troubling news,’ he said. ‘The Enlightened must hear of it.’ He stood up and addressed the group. ‘We must pack tonight and be ready to leave for Delta in the morning. The city awaits our return.’

  Chapter 32

  It is complete! The first completed tank of many and I have managed to install a much more efficient air filter and water system. The seeds have germinated, as far as I can see, and the micro-trees thrive under the lighting.

  When Harl woke the next day, it was to see Damen’s braided beard and beady eyes hovering just a handspan above his face.

  Harl scrambled back in surprise, but Damen only grinned.

  ‘Come, eat,’ he said. ‘We must be going soon.’

  Everyone was awake and scurrying around the campsite. Bedding was scattered across the floor and the canvas covering the tent of supplies had been dragged aside, leaving only its skeleton behind. It looked like an Aylen had torn the place down.

  Harl sat up and accepted a chunk of meat that Damen passed him.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, tearing a bite off a bit of the cold meat and wondering what the cycle would bring.

  Travelling with these hunters would be a much safer option than himself and Sonora wandering alone, but could he really trust them? He was confused by their motives. They seemed friendly enough and it was obvious that Damen cared for his men, but they could just as easily have cut Harl and Sonora’s throats during the dark cycle or not risked saving them at all in the first place. What did they want?

  He watched Sonora talking to Uman as she patched up the ripshrub wound from the cycle before. He would trust them for now at least. It would be easy enough to slip away into the grasses later on and, even if things turned nasty, they still had the sword and bow. Not that it would help them much. These men and women were seasoned warriors. If they wanted to overwhelm Harl and Sonora, it wouldn’t take much effort. But he had to trust someone. To make a life for themselves in this strange new world they would need all the help they could get.

  They broke camp soon after and walked with their backs to the Aylen’s shop as they pushed deeper into the grasses beyond the tree. The further they got from the building, the better Harl felt. They all carried an extra pack of food and a bundle of arrows, while everything else was piled onto a pair of canvas stretchers that creaked with the weight as Damen’s hunters struggled along.

  Uman slipped in next to Harl as he left the clearing behind Damen.

  ‘I’m curious, Harl,’ he said, rubbing his shaven head. ‘May I look at your bow? I’ve never seen one like it before. Damen has told me of the ones hoarded by the Enlightened, but this is the first one I’ve seen.’

  ‘Sure,’ Harl said, unslinging the bow from his shoulder and passing it to Uman.

  Uman peered along the string and nodded to himself as he touched it.

  ‘It is beautiful,’ Uman said, ‘much like your woman.’

  Harl frowned at the man.

  Uman bowed his head and placed a hand on his heart. 'I meant nothing bad by it, Harl of no tribe. I myself have a woman and will not look elsewhere. When her temper is roused it is like the sky thunder. I mean only that you are lucky.’

  Harl laughed at this description.

  ‘Where did you get such fine clothing from?’ Uman asked, seeming to gather courage from Harl’s laugh. He was looking at the shirt beneath Harl’s leather jerkin and the red leather boots Harl wore. Harl’s shirt was made from a fine cotton and, even though his boots were worn, they were far better than Uman’s hide sandals, which were almost falling apart.

  ‘I’d like to be able to make such things for my woman, especially the robe Sonora wears.’

  Harl looked at Sonora’s fine spun dress flashing under her cloak. Maybe Uman had not seen that type of material before.

  ‘It is called cotton’ he said. ‘It’s made from a plant that grows in our homelands.’

  ‘A shame,’ Uman said, ‘but I hope we can learn much from each other.’ He smiled and handed the bow back to Harl, then jogged a few paces to catch up with Damen, who had stopped on the edge of a clearing and was gesturing for silence while he scanned above the stalks.

  Damen crouched and thrust an arm out to indicate that they should to do the same. His men lowered the stretchers to the floor and then slipped bows and weapons out, ready to hand. A faint buzzing noise sounded beyond the grass stalks. Damen glanced up, but shook his head and raised a finger to his lips for silence.

  Harl looked up. He couldn’t make anything out beyond the grass stalks – it was all too much of a tangle – so he lowered his gaze to the waiting hunters as Damen listened patiently.

  One of the younger men in the party was clenching his bow so tight his hand shook. He saw Harl staring at him, frowned and made a visible effort to stop the shaking.

  The buzzing grew louder until Harl saw a mass of shadows pass in front of the sun, the buzzing sounds whipping over their heads one at a time. It was a swarm of hivers flying fast overhead, dozens of them. When the last one had passed and the noise became distant, Damen made a hand-signal to continue.

  They walked for an age, weary as they trudged between the thick stalks. The ground was littered with animal marks and Harl shuddered when he saw several deep claw marks gouged into stalks around them. A line of yellow blood trailed away into a crevice under a nearby boulder. He pressed on, glancing back at the dark hole until it passed from sight as they skirted around a huge heap of fallen branches.

  They stopped that night beside a cluster of large rocks carved with symbols. Harl guessed that they were markers of some sort, the same kind of thing that Gorman had used the trees for as he navigated from place to place.

  Damen deemed it unsafe to light a fire.

  ‘The hivers seem to be hunting us, but that’s not what’s got me worried,’ he told Harl. ‘There has been Aylen activity along this trail, so we need to take an indirect route home.’

  Their meal that night was cold and dismal. Damen handed out what remained of the cold meat and Uman gathered some soft fruits from bushes growing midway up the grass stalks. They were bitter and dry, but at least it was something.

  Damen questioned them some more about their old home, asking how many lived in the tanks, how they mined the ores, and a myriad of other questions.

  ‘Why have the Aylen separated your people?’ he asked at one point. ‘In Delta all types of people mix. Light skinned, dark skinned and all in between.’

  The concept of so many variations staggered Harl. He had marvelled at Sonora’s golden hair and sapphire eyes. What caused such oddities in a person?

  ‘They breed us like cattle,’ Harl said after a moment. ‘They seek pure bloodlines, so they isolate stock and refine the traits they desire. My own people were all dark of hair, but the people of Sonora’s world were all golden. It is a horror I cannot see a way to justify. They seek profit at the expense of our lives and it only makes me loath them all the more.’

  Damen fell silent, clearly lost in thought. Finally, he looked back at the building and his face darkened.

  ‘Then it’s time they tasted death,’ he said. ‘It will be a worthy hunt.’

  Chapter 33

&n
bsp; I have emulated a complete landscape inside the first tank. It’s like a whole little world that exists inside the glass space. It’s only soil and rock for now, but the seeds I picked up from where the creatures were found have been sent to my old research lab for growing.

  It rained as they left the camp the next day, drenching the hunters so that they were cold and shivering as they walked along under the grey, clouded sky.

  Harl was amazed at the difference the influx of water made to this world. Small creatures scurried about in a rush to get the water, and insect activity intensified around them. Water pooled on leafy plants and dripped down from the canopy. He couldn’t get over being able to see the rain. It had only ever come during the dark cycle in his world, but out under this open sky he could see each droplet falling through the air and bouncing off the plants around him. When the other men complained at the soaking, he and Sonora just laughed and lifted their faces to the torrent and let it wash over them.

  Damen was constantly scanning the surroundings for dangers as they trudged along. His gaze would switch from stalk to stalk, from the ground to the air. Harl sensed something of the predator about him, that constant alertness, the ease with which he moved. It was frightening in a way, but also reassuring… Provided he was on their side. Every now and then he would send Uman out to gather reports from the scouts.

  It was halfway through the day when Uman and one of the women returned with news. Damen had ordered a rest for a few brief moments and a quick camp had been set up, but as the group sat eating, Uman and the other hunter moved quickly up to Damen and talked animatedly about something they had seen.

  Harl edged closer, keen to know what dangers lay ahead, but their words were too quiet.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked Damen once the discussion was over. The hunter was frowning as he paced back and forwards in thought.

  ‘A change in the land,’ Damen said. ‘One that was not there on our journey out. Uman spotted it after we heard an Aylen pass. I have tried to take the longer route to avoid where the Aylen had been, but with the hivers hunting us I believe we must risk being exposed so that we can reach home sooner. But this change disturbs me. It can only be the work of the Aylen. They seldom stray this close to Delta, so why they have chosen to do it now is worrying.’ He looked at Harl and Sonora as if it was their fault, but then seemed to dismiss the idea.

  Damen pushed them from the makeshift campsite and, as they wound between the stalks, Harl looked up from navigating the treacherous ground and froze.

  The forest had come to an end and an open expanse of dark, fresh-tilled soil climbed a gentle slope ahead of them. The churned earth ran all the way to a series of vast, distant hills, all of it barren and strewn with shards of rock and mounds of boulders. It looked like an Aylen had dug the land over with a shovel before planting what passed for giant potatoes. It was an empty wasteland that smelled of damp, dirt and faint mildew.

  ‘We have to cut across,’ Damen said, waving between two of the largest hills to where the grass forest started again. ‘Stay close,’ he said, nocking an arrow. ‘The Aylen might return.’

  They trudged across the loose, slippery surface. Even the hunters were unsteady. They kept glancing at their feet to check their footing, before sweeping their gaze back up to the sky to check for potential enemies. The surface seemed strange to Harl. It was far too soft and loose for natural terrain. They almost had to wade through the soil, their feet constantly sinking deep into it.

  It was only when they had covered most of the treacherous ground that Uman broke from the line and crouched beside what looked like a pile of round stones. A small hand poked out between them. It was streaked with dark lines that threaded along the vein tracks.

  It took Harl a moment to realise that the stones were cobbles.

  ‘Don't touch it,’ he said as Uman reached for the open palm.

  Uman froze and then looked back at him.

  ‘It’s just a hand,’ he said.

  Harl shook his head.

  ‘We must get away from here,’ he said. His gaze traced the dark lines covering the child’s hand and a shiver ran down his spine. He’d seen those lines before.

  Uman frowned at him as if leaving a dead body to the wild creatures went against their duty.

  Damen and the others had halted and then marched back to see what had their attention.

  ‘What is the problem?’ Damen asked.

  Sonora crouched beside the hand. Her gaze travelled from the blackened hand to the landscape around them. She stopped, staring at a heap of wooden wreckage a hundred paces away that had looked like a clump of dead grass stalks when Harl had first noticed it from a distance. Instead it was the frame of a wooden house that had crumpled in on itself and become half buried.

  Harl watched as she glanced from the wooden structure down to the small hand again. She knelt down next to it, suddenly, and pulled at the cobblestones.

  ‘Sonora wait,’ he said, but it was pointless. She tugged at the stones and, as they tumbled back around her feet, a blackened face was revealed. It was a little girl, partially covered by long strands of wet blonde hair. Her face was frozen in a look of horror.

  Sonora resisted the urge to drag the body from the rubble. Instead, she staggered to her feet and back-pedalled away. Harl caught her as she collapsed.

  ‘Daisy,’ she said, chest heaving as she sobbed.

  ‘You know the child?’ Damen asked.

  Sonora did not answer.

  ‘It must have brought it all out here,’ Harl said, easing Sonora down, ‘and just tipped it.’

  ‘I do not understand,’ Damen said.

  ‘This was our home,’ Harl said. ‘After the disease spread and we had left, we saw one of the giants carrying the tank’s contents away.’

  Sonora's sob made him turn back to her. Tears streaked her face, carving rivulets in the dirt that coated her pale skin. He knelt in the fresh soil and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Rage coursed through his veins as he held her trembling body to his, her tears warm against his skin.

  How could the Aylen do this? Did it have any feelings? He had lived his entire life believing it a god, but now here, in this barren space, where the dead lay in the tormented mounds of rubble, he saw the Aylen for what it was. A monster.

  ‘Will it be safe for you to cross?’ Damen asked.

  Harl looked at the child’s face and shook his head.

  ‘I don't know,’ he said.

  ‘We should not linger,’ Sonora said, wiping her eyes and standing.

  ‘I agree,’ Damen said. ‘We'll send word to the Enlightened when we get to Delta.’

  They pushed on through the landscape. Every now and then something would remind Harl of the life he’d shared with Sonora and Gorman at the house, the spire of a building or a blackened face that he'd once spoke to. Sonora looked away every time a body came into view, focusing on the grass stalks ahead, the sky, or rocks, anything but the bodies and the decimation around them. Harl had expected her to run to the nearest body and check for vital signs in her caring way, but, like him, he guessed she had no desire to touch anything that might infect them.

  Harl froze, causing Uman to unsling his bow and crouch down ready to fire at the first sign of danger. Harl waved a hand to let him know it was not needed and walked over to what had caught his eye. Lying on it’s side, still partially encased in its broken pot, was a tiny tree. It was neatly trimmed and lay there, bare-rooted, as if waiting to be re-planted by a kind-hearted owner. It was like a miniature piece of art and it was obvious that someone had once cared for it deeply, but now it was just another piece of debris.

  Anger flared up inside him. He snatched up the tree in one hand and lobbed it as far as he could, hating what it represented.

  The others had continued ahead and only Uman watched his action. He just nodded, as though he understood, and then trudged on after the others.

  Once in the forest, the horror behind faded to an uncomforta
ble memory. A mountain formed on the horizon. It stood out beige above the thick green stalks, its tip glinting momentarily in the bright sunlight.

  Damen slowed at a rise in the land and shielded his eyes against the light as he peered at the oddity.

  ‘That’s where Delta lies,’ he said, thrusting a hand out. ‘Most of it is hidden in tunnels under the mountain, but many of us live outside in an area under the overhang. A wall shields us from the wild lands.’

  ‘Wall?’ Harl asked.

  ‘The Enlightened built a circular wall around the rock to hold off the beasts that plague this land.’

  Sonora came over to Harl’s side and clasped his hand in her own. He knew what she was thinking. Was this somewhere they would be safe? It was such a fragile hope, but when he looked at the faces of the people around him it seemed to strengthen. There was joy in their eyes when they looked at the mountain looming over their home.

  ‘The rock,’ Damen continued, ‘hides us from Aylen when they pass.’

  ‘And the flash of light on top?’ Sonora said. ‘It’s a bit easy to spot something so bright like that,’

  ‘That’s the energy making panels,’ Damen said. ‘We hide them when an Aylen comes past. But they rarely do. Maybe once or twice a year.’

  ‘Is that often then?’ she asked, obviously lost at the strange word.

  ‘Twice every four hundred days,’ Damen clarified.

  ‘And you've managed to go unnoticed?’ Harl asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Damen said. ‘Luckily we have remained undiscovered, at least the Enlightened tell us as much.’

  ‘The Enlightened?’ Sonora asked. ‘What's their responsibility in Delta?’

  ‘Each of them has a role,’ Damen said, ‘either in running the city or constantly repairing the artefacts they keep in Delta.’

  ‘So what makes someone a member of the Enlightened?’

  ‘It’s down to knowledge,’ Damen said. ‘Enlightened children are taught about technology by their parents so that they are ready to take over the duties when they grow up.’