by T. C. Edge
“I need to go, Miss Drayton,” he says. “Others need me.”
I pull back, nodding my understanding, and he darts quickly away to begin tending to someone else. When I look down, I see that the nurse has already done the same, her hands now busy trying to prevent a man from bleeding out at the neck.
I move towards Jackson and kneel down to kiss him on his lips, blackened with soot. My tears fall onto his cheeks, creating small channels in the grime as they flow away.
“I thought I'd lost you,” I weep. “I can't lose you.”
I wipe the tears across his face, clearing my view of him. Around me, the entire world continues to erupt into chaos. Cries of pain and anguish flow from all sides. Busy feet rush in and out, carrying bodies, then returning to the other side of the gate to search for more survivors.
“We need more help!” I hear someone call. “Anyone who can be spared.”
I kiss Jackson once more, and whisper to him amid the commotion.
“I'll be back, Jackson. They need me...I'll be back soon.”
I know he can't hear me. I know there's nothing more I can do. And right now, there are others who I can help.
I stand, turn, and rush back into the carnage beyond the gate. And with the clouds still clearing, I see more bodies still littering the earth, still caught beneath rubble, buried in fresh ruins. I set my sights on the nearest body, grit my teeth, wipe my eyes, and set back to work.
By the time morning comes, the dawn light spilling down onto the camp, the base has once more been cleared of the wounded, and cleared of the dead. The field hospital, once quiet and sparsely populated, has been overrun with suffering, expanding further with each passing hour. The military base, half destroyed by the attack a few days ago, has now been completely obliterated. Nothing remains but burst brick and stone. Most escaped, but some weren't so lucky. The people of Agricola, once confined to that concentration camp, continue to see their numbers reduced.
I return to Jackson as the morning runs on, and find that he's still asleep. I see the medic who saved his life once more, still working, still saving others, and realise that I'll never be able to thank him enough. I catch his eye from afar and he smiles at me so briefly, before returning to his latest charge.
My sister joins the carers, helping to tend to the wounded in any way she can. She's untrained, but willing, and possesses a constitution that I didn't realise she had. The sight of blood and gore and torn limbs doesn't appear to affect her as I thought it might. Others I see aren't quite to hardy, throwing up or passing out at the sight of the various torn up and butchered bodies littering the earth.
As I sit with Jackson, a soldier approaches me from the gate.
“Miss Drayton,” he says gently. “You're needed up in the control room.”
I nod, kiss Jackon's forehead, and follow him through the gate and up into the wall. When I arrive at the control room, I find a briefing in progress. Now, though, it only consists of Generals Richter and Sharpe, and Markus.
“Cyra,” says General Richter immediately, coming forward. “How is Jackson?” His eyes are eager, his concern real.
“He's going to be OK,” I say, wearily. “But he lost his lower left arm. I don't think he'll be able to fight again.”
The three men nod solemnly.
“He's alive,” says General Richter. “That's all that matters.”
“Yes, sir,” I say. “Have you...heard from my father?”
“Nothing yet, I'm afraid. We can't communicate directly with Petram from here. We won't know anything until Stein returns.”
“Did he say when he will return?”
General Richter shakes his head.
“Not until he has something to report. I suspect it will be soon. Manson cannot hide forever.”
I take a few extra paces into the room and we gather together around the central unit. By now, my participation in these meetings has become the norm, and we quickly set about reviewing the extent of the destruction. One question lingers in my mind, though, that I pose to the three men.
“Why,” I ask, “would Knight risk losing so many bombers to kill a few hundred people?”
General Sharpe has the answer.
“Because he's incredibly ruthless and calculating,” he says. “The loss of even dozens of bombers appears to be a sacrifice he's willing to make in order to help destabilise us. That was clear by what he was targeting – mainly, our stocks of food.”
“Unfortunately,” adds Markus, “we're suffering from the same problem as we did in Petram. We're being strangled and starved out. That's the aim. Across Agricola our men are finding food harder to come by. Stores are either being burnt down or removed to the coast. Knight knows we cannot move from here, and he's taking away our lifeline. That's why he was willing to lose so many bombers.”
“So...how much food do we have?”
“Not enough to sustain these people for long,” says General Richter. “As Colonel Jensen said, Knight is trying to destabilise us and force our hand. He's trying to draw us out, where we'll be vulnerable. Soon, we may have no choice.”
I feel a horrible, sickening feeling of deja vu permeate me. Back in Petram, we were drawn into a battle that most thought would be our end. Troy saved us. Now, the same thing is happening. Soon the only option might be to advance...or retreat. Either would mean that Knight has won.
“Maybe we should consider their proposal,” says Markus.
“What proposal?” asks General Sharpe. “Drake didn't even let us hear it before.”
“Exactly. Perhaps you should have heard out Councillor Graves first.”
“What Drake said before still stands,” says General Sharpe. “Augustus Knight cannot be trusted, and I will sooner die before making a deal with that man.”
A short debate once more ensues, once which I don't contribute to. And once more, I feel that this is all too familiar. That no option is going to satisfy us. Retreat, move forward, or take a deal from a man who's liable to set us up for a trap rather than honour any terms he agrees to.
I leave the control room feeling more downbeat than ever. Ellie and Link still missing. Drake, Athena, Troy, gone with no word yet from Petram. Jackson injured and out of commission. And the threat of another bombing raid ever present. Or of another counter attack that we won't see coming.
It all compresses down onto me as I return to Jackson, still unconscious, and sit with him contemplating everything. I just wish my dad was here to give me a hug. Or Ellie, my confidant, my best friend. I feel lost and lonelier than ever, now stripped of Jackson too as he lies before me, eyes shut, breathing lightly.
“He'll be OK you know.”
I look to see Cassie sitting down beside me. She wipes a fresh tear from my cheek, one I didn't even know had fallen.
“I know,” I say. “But for how long? For how long will any of us be OK?”
She draws me into a tender, soft hug. Her hand runs through my hair as it once did. In her arms I feel the shadow of our mother's embrace, now feeling like a lifetime ago.
“Don't let yourself think like that,” she says quietly. “You have to believe, Cy. It's the only way.”
I pull back and look into her eyes.
“Do you believe?” I ask. “Truly?”
She smiles and nods.
“Of course. I believe in you.”
I shake my head.
“I'm nothing special. I'm no one, really...”
“But you are. These people look up to you. They believe in you too, as I do. You've given them hope, Cyra. And hope is powerful.”
She glides her fingers down my cheek with a smile before standing and leaving me alone once more. I watch as she goes, tending to others who need her more than I do, and think that her faith is misplaced.
I look once more at Jackson, his face a sleeping grimace, and whisper to him: “goodnight.”
Then I stand, the hour growing late, and drag my weary limbs back up into the wall, back into my small, quiet roo
m, so cold and lonely now without Athena, without Ellie.
I crawl into bed and my exhaustion has its effect, drawing me into a deep sleep. And within that sleep, I find myself once more face to face with Knight. And again, I see those grey eyes, blank, his expression lacking that familiar smirk of arrogance. There's something different there now. Something primal, something that rarely passes over that dark visage.
It's fear that I see in him. An uncertainly, a confusion in his eyes, surrounded on all sides by the blur of darkness,
And as I wake, drawn out of the vision and into the quiet of my room, a sudden clarity comes to me.
To save those I love, to protect the people, I have to leave. I have to go alone. I have to return to Eden.
I have to confront Augustus Knight.
31 - Suicide Mission
Under the glittering blanket of the night sky, I sit and look to the heavens. Around me, all is quiet, but for the intermittent snoring of a few, and the gentle footsteps of nurses as they continue their work deep past the twilight hours.
Beside me, lying on his stretcher, Jackson remains unconscious, sleeping soundly now. According to Cassie, he woke briefly during the day, but I wasn't there to see him. Perhaps, after tonight, I never will again.
“I have to go now, Jack,” I whisper to him, my hand to his warm cheek. “Promise me you'll live long and happy. I...I don't think I'll be coming back.”
I hold back the tears, hold back any thoughts that might stay my courage and stop me from doing what I know I need to do. I take a deep breath and, for the final time, kiss his lips, lingering for as long as I will allow myself before pulling away.
I stand, pacing through the dirt, and don't look back.
I can't look back.
It's quiet when I move through the gate, the entire camp now having been shifted onto the Deadlands side of the wall for greater protection. Soldiers still patrol the top of the wall and the perimeter of the camp, eyes everywhere seeking any imminent threat. I pass by a couple of guards and they do nothing but nod at me with respect. Here, I have a pass to go wherever I want.
I continue on, sneaking into the darkness, and away towards the ridge. When I reach it, I turn back and take one final look at the camp, now so different to what it once was; the military base destroyed, the field of tents and shelters on this side transferred to the other.
Slowly but surely, we already seem to be retreating.
I don't stand there long. I can't. The quicker I move off, the better, the easier it will be. I turn and descend the other side of the rocky outcrop a little East of the camp, and aim my sights across the wide expanse of the mainland. And one step after another, I begin moving away from the base and out over the barren earth.
Guided by the glowing moon and stars, I pace onwards, into the night. In my pocket, I draw out my mother's watch, rubbing my thumb along the cracked glass as I go. From another, I draw out the picture of Theo given to me by Priscilla. I kiss it gently on the lips.
Holding both in my hands, I walk through the night, working my way down the same tracks that we used to reach the wall many weeks ago. There's little to look at as I go, little to see. Some old ruins silhouetted in the distance. The odd grouping of trees here and there. Rugged shrubbery casting small shadows across the open, rolling plains.
In silence I wander, alone with my thoughts, for several hours that night. I think of all that's come before me, all those who have died. I think of how many more might fall if this war goes any further. The innocent people journeying through the regions. The soldiers and refugees at our base. Even the soldiers wielded by Eden, by Knight, coerced into fighting their countrymen for another man's cause. None of them deserve to die.
And if I can put a stop to this fighting, I have to try. Even if it means my death, I have to try...
So on I go, an endless march, until the sky begins to brighten slightly on the horizon. I stop and watch for a while as the sun creeps higher and the colours become more magnificent. Such beauty in this world to contrast with the death, with the pain and suffering.
But I can't linger. On I go, the sky growing blue, until in the distance I see the shape of an aircraft pressing on through the air. I stop, and wait, until it comes close, hovering above me and gently dropping down to the earth.
I wait for the door to open, the short ramp extending to the ground. And then, a face appears, stepping out into the sun.
Ajax steps towards me, his feet crunching on the dirt, his frame, draped in black, looming above me as he gets closer. His eyes are wreathed in doubt, narrow under the glaring sun.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks.
Slowly, I nod, and say: “I'm sure.”
Then silently, without another word, we climb aboard, and rise into the sky once more. The plane hovers and twists, and Ajax plots his course ahead. And with the press of a button the ship begins shooting forward.
To Eden.
We share few words as we go. There's little to say that hasn't already been discussed. It was the previous day, the one following my vision of Knight, my moment of clarity, that I contacted Ajax and told him what I needed him to do.
He'd agreed with his usual impassiveness.
And now, here we are, together again once more, flying directly towards the fox's lair.
I spend my time on the journey looking out over the lands below. At one point, I spy the ruins of Arbor, my home, once again. It passes by beneath us in a flash, and in that flash my mother's watch finds its way back into my hand.
Soon, the lands turn more green, and the region of Lignum appears below. This time, it's Ellie who steps forward, her sweet smile appearing before my eyes, her innocent voice echoing in my ears.
We reach the shore, and the sight of the large coastal towns and naval bases dominates the world below. I catch glimpse of a force of soldiers, marching across the lands like ants. I turn to Ajax with a question in my eyes, and he reads them without my voice being needed.
“They're massing for an attack,” he says. “I fear your forces won't be able to hold them off for long.”
They disappear as soon as they're seen though, and I raise my eyes to the endless ocean beyond. To the far North, in the distance, the shadow of New Atlantis appears, and I think of Cassius Duke, who put himself on the line to help us infiltrate Eden. I wonder whether he was found, his involvement discovered. Did we get him killed as well?
The weather grows more foul as we go deeper into the ocean, the sky darkening, the swirling wind gathering together vast clouds filled with rain. Crackles of lightning pierce the view ahead, thunder vibrating through the heavens. And soon, through the grumbling storm, the fortress of Eden appears.
Lower we go, descending beneath the clouds, and ahead I see the giant aircraft hangers that last spat us out when we escaped this awful place. One begins to open, a huge metal wall sliding up and revealing the cavernous space within. Ajax probes forward and we glide inside out of the pouring rain.
Below, a contingent of guards awaits us.
As the ship touches down, Ajax turns to me, eyes hooded and a shadow on his face.
“I'll have to put you in restraints,” he says. “I'm sorry.”
I nod, and he slowly pulls my arms behind my back, and places handcuffs around my wrists.
Then, holding me by his side, he presses a button by the door and it opens up, the short ramp extending to the ground. He takes a breath, as if to steady himself, and begins walking me down into the hanger.
I hear whispers among the guards as soon as I step off.
“The Golden Girl...it's the Golden Girl,” they say.
One shhh's them quickly, and steps forward. He's dressed differently, his garb showing him to be their superior.
“Commander Ajax,” he says. “Please, this way. Your vehicle is ready.”
We walk forward as the soldiers stare at me silently, but with wide eyes. But I don't look back. My eyes fall to the floor, the place where Theo was shot. Th
e faintest stain of blood remains, locked into the concrete. I feel his ghost around me, calling for me to turn back. But I can't. There's no going back for me now.
I'm briefly searched for weapons before being led out towards the exit of the hanger, where I see a military hovercar waiting. We move towards it and I'm gently placed inside by Ajax, who steps in and sits down beside me. Ahead, the commanding officer drops into the passenger seat beside a driver.
“You know where to go,” he says, and the driver immediately pulls off.
I feel my heart-rate begin to steadily climb as we pass through the large open strip beyond the hangers and towards the city ahead, as I remember our escape down this very route only months ago. Tall towers climb up towards the domed roof, the streets appearing silent and unoccupied. Even here, in Eden, life appears to have slowed to a crawl.
Soon, faces appear from windows and through doors. I see them watching from their homes as we pass. Hundreds of faces, hundreds of eyes, always watching, always staring.
It's one thing I'll be happy to be rid of.
I feel Ajax's hand creep over to mine as we drive. His strong fingers grip mine lightly, and my eyes turn to his. He gives me a nod of reassurance, and I see that firm clench of his jaw. His eyes show steel, give me the strength I need as I start to crumble inside.
And when I turn away, and see the sight of Knight's mansion ahead, my own jaw sets to stone.
The car stops outside the large gate. It's a part of the city I've only ever been to once, set back from the main city within wide grounds and protected by a tall wall and dozens of the city's most highly trained guards.
Out I step, and the sight of Knight appears before me, a statue of himself standing tall above the archway into his home. Even when wrought from stone, that cold, heartless visage remains.
The commanding officer steps towards the four guards at the gate. They share a brief word and the gate is opened. The officer nods to Ajax and then steps away, returning to his hovercar. With Ajax's calming presence by my side, we walk onwards and through the gate, flanked now by Knight's personal guard, fitted with the full regalia afforded them by their position.
