by Gold, Amelia
Iv had dressed me when I was “dead” and it’s taking some getting used to. I haven’t worn clothes at all since my capture and I’ve become sensitive to touch. It actually feels weird to be wearing something.
“Who is he anyway?” I point to the driver.
“He was a truck driver for the army.” She tells me.
“I’m still a soldier.” He calls out from the front.
“But you’re not going to do what the army tells you to anymore.” She reminds him. “He’s on our side now.”
“How can you tell?” I ask her.
“Because he was the one that got me and Hash out.” She replies.
Resistance
“He saved our lives.” Hash confirms.
“How?” I ask him.
“When the selection process got disbanded, they decided to cut down on extraneous resources (like us). Pav was supposed to drive us to some place out of the way and shoot us.” Iv explains.
“Except he didn’t.” I nod with understanding.
“No, he was about to but Hash talked him out of it.” Iv tells me.
“No, I just gave him the excuse he was looking for. He didn’t really want to do it in the first place.” Hash affirms.
“How long ago was that?” I ask them.
“About a month.” Iv tells me. “It was about two weeks after you were moved from the base.”
Two weeks and a month. This means that I was incarcerated for about six weeks. Since I had completely lost track of time, it felt much longer than that to me.
“We wanted to get to you earlier but we didn’t know which institution you were put in.” Iv tries to explain.
“How did you get in touch with Zeb?” I ask her.
“Actually, he reached out to us.” Hash tells me. “He’s been doing the crosswords at the back of newspapers. We were trying to salvage old papers for information and we found the crosswords. They all look incomplete – like there are entries missing in them. The missing letters can be rearranged like an anagram.”
“He was sending out code from inside the prison?” I exclaim in awe.
“Yes. Based on what he was giving us in the crosswords, we knew that something was being done at Hvin Prison. We just didn’t know the specifics of what it was. We started monitoring the traffic going in and out of the prison. We noticed a young girl who made regular trips to visit someone and Iv befriended her.” He explains.
Iv continues. “I gave her one of the crosswords and I asked her to get her friend in the prison to show it around to everyone. Then she helped us to arrange a meeting where I pretended to be Zeb’s wife and I visited him. We learned that he had stopped seeing you and based on what he knew about the program you were in, we guessed that you had been taken to the research facility.”
“Why did you make him stay behind?” I ask, feeling depressed.
“We didn’t.” Hash tries to explain.
“He wanted to.” Iv affirms. “We were all for knocking out one of the researchers (Hash has tranquilizers) and pinning it on them but Zeb said that that was too risky. He said that it had to look like there was something personal going on between you and him that has nothing to do with the system or the program that you were in.”
He was right. Of course he was. He’s always right. He knew exactly what was going to happen to him and he did it anyway.
“The girl that you befriended.” I turn to Iv. “Was her boyfriend called Gav?”
“Yes.” She replies, startled. “You knew him?”
“He was Zeb’s cellmate.” I tell them.
I had to smile. The girl that I had been feeling sorry for because she had an arse for a boyfriend was actually instrumental in saving my life.
“Where are we going?” I ask them.
“Headquarters.” Hash replies.
“Of?” I ask, dreading the answer.
“Our Resistance.” Iv smiles.
Why am I not surprised?
*_*
“This is the HQ of your Resistance?” I look around me in disbelief. We are standing in the middle of the morgue under the Hvin Imperial Hospital.
“People don’t come down here if they can help it.” Iv shrugs.
“You don’t find it slightly disturbing that you’re workspace has dead bodies in it?” I ask her.
“How is that any different to what we were having to work with before?” She asks me.
She has a point. We’d all been surrounded by death since the army began their crusade against our “kind”. As though there was a way in which you could easily differentiate a Knax from a Venry. We don’t actually look that different from one another. I almost never know for certain until somebody starts speaking in Knav to me because although a Venry might know or understand Knav, they will always refuse to speak it.
“So how do you guys plan on bringing down the Hven Army from in here?” I ask them.
“We’re obviously not going to be able to do that.” She laughs.
“We’re only a few tanks short of being a serious challenge to them.” Hash agrees with his usual sarcasm.
“Then what is it that you do?” I reply. “How are you resisting?”
“Well, we’re not surrendering. That’s for sure.” Says Iv.
“This was never about taking back Hven from the Knax for the Venry, was it?” I ask them.
“When did you believe that that was the real reason we were being hunted?” Hash laughs.
“You’re right. I never did believe it.” I reply, trying to keep my voice calm.
“Hash, I think we should take a break.” Iv is worried.
“No, she needs to hear it.” He shakes his head. “She needs to get it out.”
“So what’s the real reason we’re being hunted?” I ask them.
“The guys in power have enemies. Real enemies. They want to get rid of them but that would draw attention to themselves.” Hash explains
“They destroyed us so that they could take out their rivals and hide those murders?” I ask them with suppressed rage.
“This is what happens when you have too much power in your hands. You get very paranoid.” Hash tells me.
“I went through absolute hell for nothing. No reason! We weren’t even the real targets!” I am shouting now because I’m not able to hold it back any longer.
“Myc, you died today. Think about what that means. You can’t go on raging like this. You will overload your system.” Iv is trying to calm me down.
“Right now, I bloody damn well want to overload my system.” I tell her.
“Then you were right. We should have left you back there and saved the male. He at least would have made a brilliant strategist. You’re just annoying.” Says Pav.
Recovery
I punch Pav in the face and he does not defend himself. I would have landed more punches but Iv has taken hold of my hand and refuses to let go.
“Pav. Leave. Now.” She tells him.
He turns and exits the morgue without another word.
“He’ll have a smoke and then come back. He always does.” Hash is trying to reassure me.
I’m not entirely sure what came over me. I know that he was not personally involved in any of the torture and abuse that I had suffered at the base. Prior to today, I didn’t even know that Pav existed as a person. But when I see him, I don’t see Pav. I see army. I see the people who have taken everything from me. I’ve come to see an enemy. We’re not supposed to make enemies. In these difficult times, you need as many friends as you can get.
“Myc, are you alright?” Iv is concerned because I’ve started crying again.
“Her eyes didn’t close.” I reply.
“Who’s eyes? Who are you talking about?” Iv asks.
“Lyth. She was the girl that I shot in the prison.” I tell them. “Her eyes never closed after she died.”
“Why were you shooting her?” Iv is confused. I guess what I’m saying doesn’t really make a lot of sense.
“They force t
hem to shoot their predecessors.” Hash explains for me.
“He said that on purpose. He wanted me to hit him.” I suddenly realize.
“Think about how badly you felt after you shot Lyth. Multiply that by about a hundred and you’ll get somewhere close to what he’s feeling right about now.” Hash tells me gently.
“But he wasn’t part of the killing. He was just a driver.” I reply.
“You probably don’t remember this but he thinks of himself as having been responsible for you being dragged half to death on the way to your selection.” Hash explains.
“I remember now. Pav was the one who gave us water.” I say as the memory comes back to me.
So Pav was the truck driver from my selection. It’s amazing how I’d completely forgotten about the one soldier who offered us some kindness in all the craziness that was happening during my capture. If I can remember the ones who hurt me, then I should be able to remember the ones who tried to help (however slight the gesture). But I didn’t.
“You might be able to forgive him for his part in your capture but it will be a long time before he can forgive himself.” Hash tells me gently.
I’ve never considered that. I have met too many Venry who also happen to be psychopaths. I’ve never considered what it would be like for the ones who are a little more sane. I don’t know what it would be like to carry that kind of guilt around. I can’t imagine that it would be very pleasant.
“Can we help him?” I ask them.
“When was the last time you saw yourself?” Iv asks me.
“Do I look that bad?” I realize that I haven’t seen my reflection at all since being moved to Hvin Prison.
“I wouldn’t recommend that you do anytime soon.” She replies.
“The best way that you can help him now is to get yourself better. Because right now, you are a walking reminder of the damage that he’s been part of.” Says Hash.
*_*
Being woken up by your own screams is exhausting and disorientating and you just want to punch someone. Unfortunately for Pav, that someone just happens to be him because he’s the one who has come over to calm me down.
The charts on the wall tell me that I’m not where I think I am. There is a large map of the country of Hven with towns marked and numbers stuck onto them. Yes, we are counting our dead. The second chart is a vertical timeline of everything that has happened between the Venry and the Knax starting six months ago when the killings began with specific targeted individual killings rather than the mass executions that they have become.
I am in a hidden room behind the morgue that is supposed to be the safest place on earth right now. Supervising my recovery is not Hash or Iv. It’s Pav.
“Myc, it’s okay. No one is going to hurt you. It’s over.” He’s telling me.
What he says just reminds me that it’s not over for everyone. There are still people, right now, who are suffering like how I was suffering before.
“Sorry I hit you.” I reply, trying to slow my pulse which is beating is way too fast for someone that’s lying down.
“That’s okay.” He smiles. “If it makes you feel better, you can hit me again.”
I look at him properly now. It doesn’t make any sense. I only see warmth. Where was the hardened soldier? Where was the man who was more than capable of killing someone but chose not to?
“What made you change?” I ask him.
“I didn’t. Change.” His expression sours a little. “I never wanted to kill anybody.”
“Then what made you leave?” I ask him.
“When this campaign is over, no one (and I mean no one) can be allowed to tell what happened. For those of us in the campaign, we either shut our mouths or we meet the same fate as our captives. I don’t plan on keeping my mouth shut.” He smiles.
“Will it end?” I ask him, uncertain.
“Our neighbours have stopped trading with us so I imagine that eventually they will have to stop this campaign if they don’t want the economy to collapse.” He replies.
“What was the mission for you?” I ask him my journalistic interest piquing. “The guys at the top knew what they wanted the campaign to do. What did you think it was all about?”
“I didn’t. Think.” His voice is angry again – with himself. “You’re not really supposed to think about it. You just do it.”
“So you’re saying all of this craziness is the result of people just not thinking?” I ask him.
No offense to him but I don’t buy it. You have to be aware, however unconscious, that killing a whole bunch of people is just wrong.
“It’s hard to explain.” He tells me. “And I know we will get no sympathy for it, but when I was in it, it was easier not to think about it. If I had given it any thought, I would have developed insomnia.”
“But you were not against it? I mean getting rid of the Knax. If you didn’t have to see with your own eyes what was being done to us, you would not have objected to it.” I keep pressing because I am trying to understand.
“If I told you I wasn’t prejudiced against you, I would be lying. But there’s a difference between hoping that someone will go away and actually wanting them dead.” He replies.
“Not that big a difference though. I mean where could we go if everyone wants us to be somewhere else?” I laugh.
“It’s a bit different to what you think it is.” He tries to explain. “You think that it was all planned from the beginning: Alright let’s get rid of these people. But you’ve got to understand that no one can give that kind of order. What’s more, no one can control what people will actually do with that kind of order.”
“So you’re saying that it just got out of control?” I ask him.
“In a way, yes.” He replies. “If I told you that everyone has a killer inside them, would you agree?”
“Yes.” I nod.
“Okay, what stops you from killing?” He asks.
“I don’t want blood on my hands.” I reply.
“That’s one way of looking at it.” He smiles. “We think of death as this majestic thing. That’s why most people don’t know how to deal with it. But when you see too much death. When you strip away everything you’ve been told about death and you see it for what it is, it becomes surprisingly easy to kill.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” I counter. “I’ve killed as well. It doesn’t make me want to shoot everyone I meet.”
“You’re not in a situation where you have to shoot everyone you meet. And that was just one person that you killed. I’ve killed a lot more.” He confesses.
*_*
Iv and Hash have taken it upon themselves to document the Aurora – the name that Hash has given to this period of our history from my comment about the sun falling out of the sky. When we were in it, there was not enough information. Now that we’ve somehow managed to get ourselves out of it, there is too much information.
Hash and Pav won’t let me do any “fieldwork” so I spend most of my time working with Iv, sorting through every piece of intelligence that comes our way with regard to the Aurora. We go through newspaper clippings, online articles (downloaded from a nearby internet café), personal artefacts and private correspondences. It’s very different to what you would normally consider to be a recovery operation because we are not trying to recover people or property. We are trying to recover stories and statistics.
“You don’t find this work to be slightly depressing?” I ask Iv as more deaths are reported in the papers, though with a sick positive twist to them because these deaths are wanted and not something to be grieved about.
“That depends. Would you prefer not to know?” She smiles kindly.
“I think I would prefer to document it after it’s actually over.” I reply.
“That doesn’t sound like a would-be reporter talking.” She laughs.
“Maybe it’s because I’m too close to it.” I sigh.
“It’s never going to leave you.” She says more seriously. “You
are always going to be too close to it. But if we don’t do this, who will?”
“If we ever have children, this isn’t what we would want them to learn about.” I shake my head. Then I remember that I will never be able to have any children.
“This folder has everything that I’ve collected about Venry reactions to the Aurora. Some of it might actually surprise you.” She smiles as she hands me a blue folder.
As I flick through the folder, I come across reports of Venry civilians who have been arrested for helping the Knax in various ways like providing supplies or allowing them to hide at their residence. The most touching report is one about a public demonstration where Venry girls paraded through the main road of Hvin without clothes, recreating what they had seen from our selections in the snow.
“I had no idea.” I smile.
“One of the reporters from Uvana is here and she is the one who has captured most of these stories. She goes for stories that either the Venry media won’t report on or they’re not allowed to report on.” Iv tells me.
“You forget.” I remark. “When you’re in captivity, you forget about the outside world. You forget that there are people out there who don’t think like that. You forget that there are people who actually don’t want this to happen.”
“I think most people don’t really want this to happen.” She replies. “But they’re scared, Myc. They don’t know if they’re going to be next. They don’t know what’s going to happen to them if they try to help us.”
I look at the photo of the reporter underneath the article that I am holding. This Uri reporter was fearless. She was not scared to show her face. She was not afraid to put herself in dangerous situations to get to the stories that no one else will write about.
“That’s why we have to let them know.” Says Iv. “We have to tell them the whole story. That there are people out there like you. People who didn’t die. And there are people like Hash and I – who have seen way too many people die. Then there are people like Pav, who has killed way too many people, and now he doesn’t want to kill anymore. We need to let them know that it’s not just about numbers. It’s about people too.”
