by S. M. Wilson
She hadn’t seen him since she started here. People mentioned him all the time. She knew he was around. But she hadn’t actually seen him yet. Did he even know she was working here? The prickly feeling on her skin grew worse. Surely there was no way he had anything to do with her being here?
She’d blackmailed him. She’d stood on that stage in the auditorium and spat her mother’s name at him when she’d thought she was about to be sent to the mines. It had been risky. She’d only suspected she was his daughter – she hadn’t known for sure. But his reaction had told her everything she needed to know.
He’d helped her. He’d told her to challenge Lincoln. To argue that the eggs he claimed were his actually belonged to her. She hadn’t even known the option to challenge existed. But even though he’d helped her, the look on Reban’s face had been anything but friendly. She’d managed to stay out of his way ever since winning the final Trial. She wasn’t too sure what a Chief Stipulator would do to someone who had information that could threaten their position.
But he hadn’t looked for her either. He hadn’t come to find her. He hadn’t asked about her mother. He hadn’t asked where she’d stayed, or what had happened.
When Storm had looked into those violet eyes of his, they had been a clear mirror image of her own. And all that had done was intensify her hatred for him.
“Stormchaser?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t think Reban Don will take a message like that well.”
Octavius didn’t even raise his head from his papers. “Neither do I,” he replied.
There was nothing else to say. Her feet took her to the door. She stepped outside into the bustling atrium. She made her way over to one of the collection points, checking for any messages for Octavius and pouring some water for herself. She was stalling, trying to keep her temper in check.
There were a few other aides chatting at the collection point. They nudged each other when they saw her. She’d noticed them whispering about her before. At first, she thought it was because she was new. Then she thought it was because they recognized her from the Trials. Now, one dark-haired guy who looked a few years older than her finally stepped forward.
“Where did you come from?” he asked.
“I’m from here,” she answered. “Ambulus City. I’ve lived here all my life.”
“Are you related to Octavius?” asked another.
“No.”
“Then how did you get the job? No one just walks into a job like that.”
The statement made her uncomfortable. “Apparently I scored well in some test,” she answered blandly.
There was only one aide she vaguely recognized, the guy who’d been a few years above her at school – she thought his name was Corin. It was obvious from his stare that he found her familiar, but couldn’t place her. “What did you do before?” he asked easily.
She smiled widely. “I lugged hay bales.”
She watched as their jaws collectively hit the floor. Then, apart from Corin, they turned back towards each other and started whispering again.
“How do you go from hay bales to being the aide to the most important man in here?” she overheard.
“She’s far too young.”
“Forven was nearly forty. If he hadn’t been so useless, she would never have got this job.”
“It should have been mine,” hissed another voice. “I was next in line for that position.”
Corin took her elbow.
“Ignore them. You might have noticed that everyone’s pretty stressed out here. Things are getting really bad, you know.”
She gulped. “What do you mean?”
“The parliament chamber.” His brow furrowed. “Haven’t you heard the Chief Stipulators?”
She narrowed her gaze and turned to face him. She’d never been inside the actual parliament chamber. Who needed to, when everything seemed to happen in the atrium anyway? But she’d watched with a tiny bit of wonder as all the Chief Stipulators in their black cloaks filed into the grand hall once a week. She’d made a point of counting them. Three hundred and seventy-six men, and twenty-four women. This place sucked. She shook her head and focused her attention back on Corin. “Why? What’s being said?”
He shrugged. “I just think there might be some changes in the future. People are getting tired. They’re getting tired of waiting, tired of living on top of one another, tired of constant rations.” Right on cue, his stomach gave a loud growl. “Aren’t we all?”
She felt a flicker of guilt – after all, she wasn’t stuck with normal rations. But then, she had earned her rewards. She sighed and looked at the corridor of blank doors. “Which one is Reban Don’s office?”
He laughed. “You’re going there? I wouldn’t advise it.”
“Why?”
“Parliament just finished. They spent most of the time shouting at each other. I don’t think he’ll be in the best of moods.”
She shrugged. “Well, I don’t imagine his mood will improve any when I give him this message.”
Corin shook his head. “Good luck then.” He pointed down the corridor. “Down there, first door as you turn the corner.”
She finished her water and headed down the corridor. The lights were dimmer here, casting shadows.
Why was everyone so unhappy with Reban Don? What was it that Lorcan Field was doing? Her heart gave a little lurch. Maybe Lorcan had said that the dinosaur DNA was useless – that the plans for a virus wouldn’t work. Maybe this could actually be good news instead of bad…
Storm turned the corner and steeled herself as she walked towards the door, lifting her hand and knocking before she had a chance to change her mind.
“What is it?” came the shout.
Storm shook her head. This had disaster stamped all over it.
She felt a surge of adrenaline. She’d survived for seven days on Piloria. She’d faced raptors and a T-rex. She’d seen a megalodon. She’d had the heart-wrenching experience of seeing her friend killed by a deinosuchus.
Reban Don was only a man. And not a very honourable man at that. Against the scale of a continent filled with dinosaurs, he was nothing.
And with that thought, she pushed open the door.
His room was eerily empty. It was almost as if he didn’t want to leave anything around for people to see. He didn’t have shelves full of books like Octavius. His desk was on a raised platform but the smaller desk where she guessed an aide would normally sit was empty. Didn’t he have one?
Not that she cared.
He started, obviously surprised to see her standing there. He was leaning across a pile of paper, a piece of graphite in his hand.
“What are you doing here?”
She stifled her smile. “Octavius Arange sent me with a message.”
He stiffened in his chair. “Why on earth would Octavius Arange send you with a message?” His eyes narrowed as he recognized her blue uniform.
“I’m his aide.”
“Since when?”
“A week ago.”
He didn’t say anything. Just held her gaze. She could almost see the cogs in his brain whirring. Any thought she’d had about Reban Don being the person to bring her here vanished. It was clear he knew nothing about it. He muttered under his breath: “What a surprise. Octavius wants Ms Piloria all to himself.”
“What?” She couldn’t help it. What kind of comment was that?
He ignored her question. “What’s the message?” he snapped.
She took a deep breath. “Octavius wanted me to tell you to get Lorcan Field under control. He said the other Chief Stipulators are complaining.”
Reban’s nostrils flared. “That’s it?”
She’d expected more. She’d expected him to shout and scream. He was obviously angry, but he had an unexpected air of calm around him. She was almost a little disappointed.
“Yes, that’s it,” she replied.
“You can go.” He waved his hand. An act of dismissal. A
nother one. She tilted her chin and put her hands on her hips.
“That’s all? That’s all you’re going to say to me?”
He put down his graphite and raised one eyebrow. “What exactly would you like me to say to you?”
The rage that she’d tempered for so long bubbled to the surface. “Maybe some kind of an explanation? Maybe some acknowledgement of who you actually are? Or is that too much to ask of Chief Stipulator Reban Don?” She couldn’t help the mocking tone in her voice.
He stood up, thudding his hands on the desk. “You should watch what you say out loud, Stormchaser Knux,” he hissed. “You have no idea how much danger you could be in.”
“From who? And is it me or you that you’re worried about?”
She could see the veins bulging on his forehead as his face grew redder and redder. “Be careful who you trust. People aren’t quite what they seem.”
She walked over to the desk. Even though he towered above her, she wasn’t intimidated. “Don’t worry, I learned that a long time ago.”
She turned on her heels and walked towards the door.
“Storm,” came the voice behind her. “Be careful.”
Her footsteps faltered but she was determined not to stop, determined not to give him any further acknowledgement. She’d delivered Octavius’s message.
The sooner she got away from this man the better.
It was unusually cold as Lincoln made his way home towards the caves. He was worried about his mother – she’d been looking exhausted and strained, working extra hours while worrying all the time about Arta. The other family that had moved in with them were difficult and untidy. Tunics lay unwashed on the floor, dirty bowls were scattered across the eating area and the cave had a strange odour now. It had always smelled damp. But now it almost smelled mouldy.
Without Arta there the cave felt strange. When Storm had declared Arta her half-sister he’d been so relieved he hadn’t considered anything else. But now he realized that to keep up their current charade, Arta would never be able to come and live with them again.
Home just didn’t feel like a home any more.
And from what Arta told him about Storm, she was struggling with the changes since their return from Piloria too.
But something was giving him just the tiniest bit of hope. Today, when he’d looked at Arta’s arm, it had seemed a little bit better. Maybe he was imagining it? Maybe he was just seeing what he wanted to see. But he was almost sure there had been an improvement. The skin wasn’t quite so red in the crook of her arm, and the cracked skin there actually looked as if it might seal and mend.
He hadn’t said anything out loud – because he didn’t want to draw any attention to the ointment or to create false hope – but his mind was currently on overdrive. Could an ointment from Piloria actually help the blistering plague?
He jostled his way through the thronging bodies in Ambulus City. For most of the workplaces, shifts had just changed.
The crowd was claustrophobic. Some people just walked blindly forward, exhausted from the long hours, banging blank-faced into other people and shouldering them out of the way. Thankfully, due to the starvation rations, most of these people had no weight behind them.
A woman appeared directly in front of Lincoln. He tried to sidestep her, but she moved back into his path. He tried again, and she moved again. “Sorry,” he muttered.
But she reached out and grabbed his arm. “It’s you,” she said, her face tense.
“What?”
“It’s you, isn’t it? You’re Lincoln Kreft.” He instantly felt uncomfortable and glanced from side to side to see if anyone had overheard. Nobody in the crowd made eye contact, except one. A boy who looked the same age as him, with brown shaggy hair. Lincoln blinked. Although he was certain he didn’t know this boy, there was something achingly familiar about him. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. The almond-shaped brown eyes?
Lincoln shook his head. “Do I know you?”
It was clear the woman and boy were together. The woman took his hand and squeezed it. “You were there. You were there on Piloria. I need to know. I need to know what it’s like.”
Lincoln tried to pull his hand away. He had no idea who this woman was. Was she some kind of weird fan of the Trials? Or the Finalists? Lots of people had asked him questions about Piloria. About the dinosaurs. But no one had approached him quite like this.
He pulled his hand away sharply and held it against his chest. “It’s a continent,” he said abruptly, “and it’s got dinosaurs.”
The boy leaned forward and gripped Lincoln’s shoulder tightly. “Could someone survive there?”
“What do you mean?” Lincoln instantly felt more on edge.
The woman and boy glanced at each other. “We…might know someone who was sent there.”
Sent there. A strange thing to say. Finalists won their places. They weren’t sent to Piloria. Lincoln only knew one person who’d been sent there…
His eyes widened as realization struck. He stared at the woman again. She was older than the picture he remembered…and the boy? He’d only been a child in the sketch stuck to the wall in Blaine Thredell’s makeshift hut. The sketch had been of the woman and her two young children. A boy and a girl.
He’d known Blaine had a family in Ambulus City. But in a city of a million people he’d never expected to see them – to meet them. The surprise was like being plunged into the cold sea at the bottom of the pterosaur cliffs. He couldn’t speak.
The boy shook him. “Well?”
Tears glistened in the woman’s eyes. She glanced around to see if anyone else was listening. “My partner. He was sent there nine years ago.”
Lincoln was numb. The one thing that Blaine had revealed he longed for, but had never been granted, was news of his family. And this boy had to be his – with his brown shaggy hair and brown eyes, he was almost a living image of his father. It was just like looking at a younger version of the slightly mad man who’d been abandoned with the dinosaurs.
“I’ve been watching you – following you,” the woman muttered, averting her eyes from his. “I needed to ask. I needed to speak to you.”
“Wh…who…was your partner?” he managed to say. He needed confirmation. He needed to know that this wasn’t just some random mistake.
“Blaine, Blaine Thredell.” Both voices spoke in perfect unison.
It was like being in a bubble. The mass of people around him, the chattering noise and echo of machinery seemed to vanish into the background. All he could see right now was the woman and boy in front of him.
Lincoln’s father had died only a few years before – another victim of the blistering plague. Lincoln had a number of special memories of him. But this boy in front of him hadn’t seen his father since he’d been around five. He must have spent the last nine years wondering about him. Wondering if his father was dead or alive.
The thought of it was like a fist punching into Lincoln’s heart. Blaine’s manner had worried him. His behaviour had been erratic. But one thing had been crystal clear: Blaine loved this woman and their children. He’d lost his position and his life on Earthasia because of them.
The Stipulators already knew Blaine had survived on the continent. But they were determined to keep that fact a secret – Blaine had told them that much. Which meant that telling people about meeting Blaine was the easiest way to make an enemy of parliament. So Lincoln, Leif and Storm had agreed not to mention him to anyone. Lincoln hadn’t told his mother, or his sister, or any of the Stipulators who’d interrogated him about his time on Piloria. He hadn’t mentioned Blaine at all. But could he really deny the man’s existence to his partner and his child?
Lincoln squeezed the woman’s hand back and pulled her towards one of the Blocks. There were cameras in the streets. People were watched. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, or them. The boy looked furtively around, then dodged between the crowds and followed.
The Blocks were so close toget
her that only a little sun filtered down between them. Lincoln pulled the woman against the side of one of the buildings. In the shade it was less likely they would be spotted. Her lips were trembling.
“What? What is it?”
The boy appeared by his mother, his face pale, his fists clenched at his sides.
He looked at the anxiety in their eyes. He could lie. He could make up some kind of story. But wasn’t the truth always best? He’d learned what lies and deceit could do. It had cost him the two people he’d come to think of as friends on Piloria.
The woman placed her hand on his chest. “You have to tell us,” she pleaded.
He nodded slowly. “Blaine…he’s still there. He’s alive.”
“He’s alive?” the woman shouted. Several heads turned in their direction.
“Sshhhh,” Lincoln urged.
“He’s managed to stay alive on the dinosaur continent?” Her eyes were wide as the thoughts clearly kept tumbling around in her mind. “Do the Stipulators know?”
Lincoln nodded.
The boy spoke up. “They won’t bring him back? Surely if he’s managed to stay alive all this time then he’s earned the right to come home?”
Lincoln sighed, trying to decide how much to share. “What are your names?”
“He didn’t tell you?” The woman’s voice wobbled.
Lincoln chose his words carefully. “He had a hand-drawn picture of the three of you. I saw it, but I didn’t ask your names.”
The hand against his chest was trembling. The woman spoke. “This is our son Caleb, our daughter is Jesa and I’m Kayna.”
Caleb narrowed his eyes. “He’s really survived on Piloria all this time?”
Lincoln nodded again. “He has. He was injured to begin with. But he managed to find food and water and survive until the ship returned a year later.” He left out the extent of Blaine’s injuries from the T-rex. The fact he’d originally been unable to walk and it had taken a whole year for his gaping wound to finally heal.
“So why didn’t they let him come home then? Surely he’d suffered enough punishment?”
Lincoln ran his fingers through his hair. “The Stipulators don’t want it to be known that anyone can actually survive that length of time on the dinosaur continent. They’re so fixed on killing the dinosaurs and wiping the place clean for themselves. If Blaine comes home and the news spreads, people might start asking questions about the virus plan.”
