by G J Ogden
Ethan suddenly felt a stabbing guilt. He had believed his pain was unique and special, and hadn’t thought it possible that Maria’s suffering could in any way match his own. But he was wrong. And, more than that, he realised that her pain actually mattered to him. He did not want her to die. He barely knew this woman, but he felt a powerful connection to her. He liked her being around, and he liked himself when they were together. If he turned his back on her then she would be exiled, and Ethan knew, as did the council of administrators, that being put outside the protection of a settlement was tantamount to a death sentence. The best she could hope for would be to survive merely long enough to succumb to The Maddening. He knew now that he'd never forgive himself if he allowed that to happen.
Maria watched him intensely, trying to figure out what was going on inside his head, why his demeanour had changed. Then Ethan squeezed Maria's hand gently, a sign of acceptance and reassurance. “I'm sorry for what I said, Sal,” he said, dropping his guard completely. “This has been harder than I imagined, but that doesn’t excuse my words.”
Holding Ethan's hand had been a tool to help Maria break through to Ethan, but she was painfully conscious of how much she enjoyed the feel of his hand around hers, and the gentle pressure he had added. She let go and looked away. Without physical contact, or eye contact, she hoped she could detach her emotions again, but it wasn't working. Maria was always at her best when there was conflict. She understood conflict, and was able to use it to keep herself focused. She was not used to opening up to people, and it had left her vulnerable. Now, without the conflict between Ethan and herself to use as an anchor, she found herself succumbing to her own emotions, which were washing over her like a strong tide.
“You asked me what I know about loss,” she said, quietly. Ethan waited, concerned that in his anger and self-righteousness, he had not considered that Maria also may have actually lost someone she loved. “I had a family too.” Her voice was unsteady and Ethan felt the stab of guilt. She had a family, past-tense.
Talking about her life had always been hard for Maria, even to those she was closest too. Even to Kurren. She chose instead to bury her feelings and keep them locked away, but she wanted Ethan to understand. She wanted him to know that she had suffered too. Not because of the mission, but because she wanted him to know that she wasn’t just a soldier following orders, that this was personal for her too. “The war I told you about never ended, not for us,” she went on, trying to stay composed. She walked over to the window where Ethan had been standing earlier, and stared out, as he had done. “GPS lost the war for the planet, but they have never stopped fighting.”
“They’re still up there too?” said Ethan. “But… what are they fighting for, the refinery was destroyed?” Maria glanced at him. He was still partly in the shadows, but a streak of light from the window caught his face, and she could see he looked concerned, even sad.
“When the refinery was destroyed and the scale of the devastation had become clear, both sides struggled to process what had happened,” said Maria. “In the end, we gave way to fear and anger, each side blaming the other, each demanding the other surrender and submit themselves for judgement.”
“But they caused it,” said Ethan, struggling to comprehend. “How could they blame you?”
Maria shook her head. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said, with an air of fatalism. “All that matters is they never stopped blaming us, or hating us, and have passed on this hate to the next generation, and it will continue until one of us is destroyed. I know this much; they will never stop fighting, not until we’re all dead. Not until they’ve won.”
Ethan stepped out from the shadows fully now and stood beside Maria, barely a body’s width apart, his back to the window. “Perhaps our lives are not so different, after all,” he said.
Maria looked up at sky, which had been growing darker as they had been talking. A faint streak of light fell across the horizon, barely visible. Maria watched it fade out of view, and remembered what Ethan had told her about the night his parent’s died. “My mother and father were killed in an attack when I was sixteen years old,” she said.
Ethan shut his eyes tightly. He had been an arrogant fool.
“I hated GPS before, for the sleepless nights and nightmares they had caused me as a child,” Maria continued. “Can you imagine, Ethan, being woken up in the middle of the night, the room vibrating as energy bolts shook what few toys I owned onto the floor? And then being grabbed – still half asleep – by my father and rushed to the safe room. Each time, not knowing if this would finally be the night when GPS broke through and killed us?”
Ethan understood about nightmares and sleepless nights. It didn’t seem to make a difference if it was energy bolts or the cries of terror from inside a burning house, the effect was the same. “I can’t imagine how that was,” he admitted, “but I’ve known fear like it, and I’m sorry you had to go through what you did.”
Maria did not hear him. She was reliving the screams, the panic. The sound of the blasts hammering into the the shields around the base. The sirens from the emergency crews being dispatched to plug holes and tend to the wounded. The agonised shouts of families caught under the rubble. The sight of people being sucked out into the cold vacuum of space. The memories fuelled her anger. “Then one night it happened to us,” she said. Her voice had hardened. “Our quarters were hit. I tried to pull her free – my father was already dead – but I couldn't... I couldn't get her out, I wasn’t strong enough. They dragged me, screaming, away from her. I held onto her hand for as long as I could, but they pulled me away. And as the shields failed, I saw her vanish into space.”
Maria turned away from the window and locked her eyes on Ethan’s. “She was still alive at the time,” she said, her voice still hard and cold. “I used to wonder what she thought in those last moments, and if she blamed me for leaving her.”
As Maria had gotten older she avoided thinking about that day, because the pain made her cold and hollow. The guilt had never left her, and the anger was always there, locked away, but still a part of her. She hated how it made her feel. “Do you know what it feels like to die in the emptiness of space, Planetsider?” she asked, bitterly.
“No,” said Ethan flatly. He recognised the pain and anger in her voice, and understood that no words could offer any comfort. Trying to put out the fire in her eyes was a pointless as trying to extinguish the flame that burned inside him.
“I joined the resistance fighters the very next day,” Maria continued. “And every day since, I have fought those bastards. But now they may actually win.”
Ethan ran his hand though his hair and massaged the back of his neck. There was so much to take in. So much more to her story than he had realised. “You say they may win,” he said, piecing together different parts of what Maria had said. “Are they behind whatever is threatening to kill you?”
“Yes.”
“But they can be stopped?”
“Not without your help, Planetsider,” Maria replied. “And you won't help us.”
She turned away from him again and faced the window once more, her eyes tightly closed, fighting hard to keep her strained emotions intact, her mind filled with images she had battled for so long to forget.
Maria felt Ethan's hands on her shoulders and despite all her rage, some of which was directed at the young Ranger, she did not pull away. Maria did not know what to do. She was paralysed with a mixture of fury and intense sadness, but the hands closing around her shoulder muscles were somehow squeezing the tension from her, like water being pressed from a sponge.
Then she felt him turning her around, to face him. And she let him. She opened her eyes, but looked down at his chest, fearing what would happen if she met his gaze. Then he pulled her close and Maria felt her face resting on his chest. She could feel his heart beating, powerful and fast. Then his arms were around her back and, slowly, confidently, a hand pressed softly around the base of her neck. Her whole
body tingled and she was sure she was trembling. She did not want this sensation to end. All her feelings of anger and bitterness were melting away. She stayed there in his arms, listening to his heart beat, feeling the warmth of his body redden her cheek.
Ethan relaxed his hold and Maria looked up into his eyes. There was a damp patch on Ethan's shoulder and Maria realised she was crying. But she was no longer sad or angry. In fact, at this moment she had never felt more alive. Ethan gently wiped away a tear from Maria’s cheek and she let her face fall into his hand. Ethan looked deep into her hazel eyes.
“Tell me what you want me to do.”
chapter 16
Commander Chris Kurren was woken abruptly by the sound of a bell being rung and people shouting outside the Ranger hut, where he had been put under house arrest by the headstrong female Ranger, Summer. He had no idea how long he'd been asleep for, but he could see through the slatted windows that it had started to get dark. He got out of his bunk and put on his boots. The door swung open and Summer stood in the threshold, wearing her utilitarian Ranger clothing, holding a staff. A bow was slung over her left shoulder and Kurren could see the feathered tails of arrows poking up from the quiver behind her right shoulder.
“Get up! Roamers are attacking the settlement,” she said firmly, but without any panic in her voice.
“Roamers?...Attacking where, how…?” Kurren began, but Summer cut across him.
“I take it that you know how to fight?” she asked.
Kurren shrugged and said, “Sure, but with what, you've taken my weapons.”
Summer threw the staff at him, which he didn't anticipate and so caught clumsily. He felt a little embarrassed. “I don't trust you with your weapons,” Summer continued. “I barely trust you with that. But we need every capable fighter, and since your life is on the line here too, I'd suggest you fight well.”
Kurren began to speak, but Summer had already left. After their last encounter with Roamers, he didn't much like the prospect of what lay in store should the fight not go well, so he quickly pulled on the coat that he had been given upon arriving, and followed Summer outside. In the courtyard, lanterns had been lit on the watch platforms along the crude stone walls that surrounded the settlement. The settlement was certainly no fortress, with rough-cut stone bonded together by some form of mud-like cement, and wooden platforms built at intervals, providing enough room for two or three people per platform to get an elevated view of the surroundings. The main gate was the most elaborate construction and looked solid enough. It was hinged at each wall with material salvaged from the city, perhaps originally the gate hinges of a scrapyard or large warehouse, and was operated by two Rangers per side. It, like the walls, stood around three to four metres tall, and certainly couldn't be breached by a mob of Roamers wielding crude, hand-held weapons. Based on what he’d seen so far, Kurren assumed that the Roamers were capable of nothing more sophisticated than that.
He looked around, assessing the tactical situation. People were scurrying into their homes and barricading doors. A body of Rangers were concentrated around the front gate, ten in total, by Kurren's count. Summer was around twenty metres to the left, on a watch platform. He ran over and climbed the stone steps to stand alongside her.
“What are you doing here, space man? Go help the others.”
Kurren gazed out over the wall, trying to see what Summer was looking at. The bright lanterns nearby made it hard to focus too far out into the distance, and all he could see was an abandoned old barn, perhaps two-hundred metres distant, near a cluster of ancient-looking and most likely dead trees. To the right, he could see the shapes of figures moving outside the wall. A small group were running up to and then hurling burning objects at the Rangers and at the wall and gate, and then scurrying away. The Rangers had already picked off two or three with arrows, but the sorties had still succeeded in setting a section of the wall on fire. A few people were running to a well to fetch water.
“I thought that these Roamers were savages,” said Kurren, concerned that he had underestimated the Roamers' capabilities. “How is it that they are throwing firebombs at the walls?”
Summer glowered at him for a second, and then looked towards the barn again. “The Maddening has different stages,” she replied, not trying to hide the annoyance in her voice. “In the early stages, you lose empathy and compassion, but can still function with the skills and knowledge you had before. For a time, at least.”
Kurren shivered, but not from the cold wind. “So, it’s like they don’t have a conscience?”
“Yes,” Summer replied. “In that respect, they’re a lot like your ancestors.” Kurren let this slide. He had seen the darker side of this woman, and didn’t want to see it again; at least, not focused on him. “We don't often see groups like this,” Summer continued. “My guess is that they were a travelling caravan that passed too close to one of the KCs, where the sickness appears more concentrated.”
Kurren thought for a moment and then said, “KCs, what are they?”
Summer shot him a look that could shatter stone. “This is not the time for a cosy little chat, space man,” she spat. “Now go away and fight before I shoot you myself.”
Kurren was growing tired of the girl's attitude and it showed in his response. “Look lady, if you want me to fight I need to know my enemy,” he said, trying to remain calm. “Now cut the attitude and give me something that could help.”
Summer felt anger swell in her stomach, but she also knew that Kurren was right, and so grudgingly she relented. “Keep Clear Areas, If you must know,” she answered. “KCs for short. They are just big scorched areas of nothing, but you find them in the worst damaged parts of the cities too.”
“Thank you,” said Kurren, sincerely. He was trying to form a bond, but this girl was even more stubborn than Maria.
“Another gift from your little war,” Summer added spitefully. Kurren rolled his eyes, but let this slide too. He considered what Summer had told him. It made sense that some elements of the refinery that made it though the atmosphere without burning up would create areas of particularly intense toxicity. Satisfied with the explanation he fell silent and resumed his survey of the landscape.
One group of five Roamers had clustered together further from the wall. Some had objects in their hands, possibly weapons, though he couldn't make out what from this distance. They certainly seemed reasonably organised, not like the more savage Roamers that they had encountered in the space port. He shook his head. He’d rather go quickly than end up like them, slowly degrading until they eventually changed into something vile and obscene.
“There seem to be enough of you manning the gate,” said Kurren, “and I don't think hurling rocks and petty fire-bombs is going to cause much of a threat, so I'll stick around here, if you don't mind.” He knew she would mind. His attempt at levity went unnoticed, or at least unappreciated, by Summer.
“I don't need your help,” she said curtly, still looking out over the wall into surrounding darkness.
“So what are you up here for?” Kurren replied, ignoring her continued slights.
“It's none of your concern, and I told you I don't...” She stopped abruptly. Two figures emerged from inside the barn and started to run towards the settlement wall, between where Summer and Kurren stood and the gate. They both had bulging bags slung over their shoulders and were holding something in their hands, but Kurren couldn't identify what. The objects glinted and were clearly metallic, and looked like cylinders of some kind. He felt his senses heighten. Something was not right.
“What's in the barn?” Kurren asked with no trace of his usual chirpiness. His military instincts had kicked in.
“Nothing,” Summer said, unconvincingly, and then she tried to move away from him, along the wall's walkway in the direction of the gate, but Kurren caught her by the arm. Summer glowered at him, murderously. “Let go. Now!” she demanded, and Kurren could see her hand close around the handle of a dagger in her belt pouch.
Kurren let go of her arm, but he wasn’t going to give up.
“Stop screwing me around!” he said, agitated. “Whatever else you think I am, above all else I’m a soldier. So if you really want my help, tell me what’s in that old building.”
Summer stood there momentarily, weighing up the pros and cons of telling Kurren whatever it was she was hiding from him. The Roamers from the barn continued at speed towards the gate. “The barn is where we hid your... vehicle, or whatever it is,” she said, finally. “The thing that you arrived in from the city. And it's where your weapons are stored too,” she added, reluctantly.
Kurren look shocked. “Why the hell did you leave our weapons out there, for anyone to find?” he asked, genuinely baffled.
“No Roamer would know what they were or how to use them,” Summer replied, angry at having her decision questioned by this outsider. “And I couldn't risk you finding them inside the settlement and using them against us.”
Kurren looked back towards the running figures. They were now perhaps only forty or fifty seconds from reaching the wall, and so were easier to make out. He felt his heart rate climb. “We’ve got to stop them!” he said, urgently.
“What have they got?” said Summer, squinting hard at the figures, trying to spot the danger.
“Fuel cells,” said Kurren. “They are fuel cells from the transport.”
“But they can't know what they are,” said Summer. “What are they, anyway? Are they dangerous?”
“If you don't know what they are then chances are they won’t,” said Kurren, thinking on his feet. “They’re heavy, so maybe they want to use them to smash chunks out of the wall, who knows?”
“But?” said Summer, sensing there was more.
