‘What about everything else? You ran for a reason.’
‘Casey Hayes wasn’t trying to get rid of me. She was trying to save my job.’
‘Your apartment.’
‘Instead of hiding my apartment’s destruction, I should have taken advantage and told Daniel that I was ready to live with him – something I couldn’t conceive because I was afraid he’d ask if I was planning on leaving my job.’
The pieces of my confidence clicked together.
‘Fool, there is nothing you won’t screw up if you return.’
That was the moment I knew I’d won. It was no longer a case of when I’d die, it was a case of when I’d return.
‘Oldies,’ I said.
‘What?’
“Oldies. Daniel and I share and keep those data chips at his flat. It’s the music we danced to. The music we cooked dinner to. What is wrong with you? We drive across Scotland to see each other for God’s sake! How could I have been so blind? You are wrong. He was never angry. He was scared I’d lose my identity to some two-bit fear of my life falling apart. When I got off that transport, I heard that music clear as day, and can still feel it if I think hard enough. I feel it because that’s my real self – the real Daniel – sticking around in my mind, waiting for me to get over myself.’
False Daniel was still. In the giant open space of my mind, he looked through me. I finished by repeating something Annalise had sad in that came location, where it was real. ‘If all you ever choose to recall is the negative, then that is all your life will be.’
‘Your life is a mistake. A bundle of errors and screw ups.’
‘That thinking? That’s called depression. And sometimes you just have to understand that it will always be there. I am in control of me. ‘
I blinked, and I was back at the door of the Keep’s Hall. I’d mentioned before that the sun was coming up in the distance. The sun rose enough to send a sliver of light through the open window, and illuminated Velric. This light was brighter than the torchlight, giving me the chance to see Velric’s colours for what they truly were. They weren’t as black as I’d thought – that was a trick of the candle. Instead, Velric’s plates were cascading with grey, a shade so barren of colour that my mind wanted to see it as pure black. In that moment, Velric looked old. Not the kind of old that comes with age – but weary, tired, and consumed. It was then I knew that he shielded himself with the past. Every step, every move came from what he remembered. The rifle slung over my shoulders tipped and knocked into the door. The sound was faint, but loud enough for Velric to hear.
“Attend to the safeguards,” Velric said. “My people are secure from their assailants.”
“Yes, sir,” Father Corin bowed before leaving.
That was a man whose story was alien to me. How had Velric convinced him, and how had he reasoned away the destruction of Sondranos? I would never know. That would be a story another survivor would have to tell because I never saw him again, and he was not amongst the survivors. With Father Corin gone, Velric pushed past the table and headed towards me.
I kicked the door open. Velric stopped midway between one of the tables and the small pathway that cut the room in half. I pointed the rifle at his chest and fired. I stepped into the room and kicked the door closed with the back of my foot. The first had nailed him in the chest, so I held firm, and fired again.
Kayt shoved two rifles into Annalise’s arms and grabbed her by the hand. Kayt had stacked four into her own arms. Annalise let herself be pulled. As they went out the door, Kayt stopped and spun around. Annalise had dropped her guns.
“You told me there would be a moment in which I was so mad that I’d forget Lancaster,” she said as Annalise knelt down and picked up her rifles. Her hands trembled. “You were right. But I’m not mad at the Belovores. At least the Belovores didn’t quit halfway through.”
“I just don’t want to do anything that would cause more harm,” Annalise said.
“Since when have you been ten years old? Everything you’ll ever do will hurt someone. Did you not see what I did to Lancaster? Did you not hear about Melanie’s Dad? Everyone in this damn commune thinks they are acting in the best interest of something else, and they are willing to get killed for it. People get hurt. Big deal. Mourn yourself on your own time instead of letting other people continue to be hurt.”
Annalise cockeyed and looked in the other direction. “What’s your plan?”
“It’s pointless to explain it to you if you’re not planning on doing anything,” Kayt said.
“I’m going to help.”
“Are you?”
“Yes,” Annalise staggered back. Kayt knew she was being mean, but she was also taking the cue I’d given her before they’d set off. “I promise. Now, tell me.”
Kayt pushed one of the rifles into Annalise’s arms, making them each have three. Instead of walking straight down the path, towards the walls where Forgiven traded shots with the troops beyond, she led Annalise to the Keep. Instead of nearing the front, however, she’d gone towards the back end. Nobody else was around. Once Kayt had checked around the corner, and Annalise had done the same for behind Kayt, the young girl began to explain her plan.
“Velric has to be getting down to the places underneath somehow. That’s where the rest of the Belovores are hiding,” she said. “The only way to keep the Belovores from coming out and slaughtering us all is by making sure they don’t come out.”
“The Belovores will kill us before we get enough hits on them,” Annalise said. She brandished her three rifles and lifted her shoulders in unison.
“Not if we collapse the tunnel to their entryway, first.”
Two Forgiven suddenly came around the corner, and startled at Annalise and Kayt. Annalise took charge first, “There’s a breach in the southern wall, we need more weapons – where’s the nearest supply tunnel?” Annalise asked. The question was for Kayt, but the two Forgiven men stammered instead.
Suddenly, everything fell silent. Annalise heard it first, and Kayt shortly after. The shooting had stopped. Either everyone was dead, or Kayt and Melanie’s stories had worked. Annalise kept the guns trained on the Forgiven, while Kayt stepped to the other end of the wall. She peered over and saw hundreds of Forgiven hunkering against the ladders, and nobody atop the wall. Enough bodies had been littered on the ground to see that shooting back was not a cause worth fighting. Instead, hiding and not dying had better odds. When Kayt looked closer, she saw that some of the bodies on the ground twitched. That was something none of us banked on: the troops would be armed with stun weapons rather than body piercers.
“We heard stories that we were next,” one of the Forgiven said.
“Not everyone believes them, but enough of us are heading to safety. We don’t want to be pawns,” said the other. “
Kayt stifled an excited breath. “I guess not all stories are for everyone.”
She came back around and set Annalise’s guns to the ground. They shared a quick look that they both understood. With the gunfire stopping, the Belovores would be coming out next. “We need to find out where the Belovore tunnels are, and fast.”
Small flakes chipped away from his chest. Velric kept coming. His expression turned into rage, the kind that could have boiled blood. He threw a seat out of his way, and I fired again. This one was aimed at his feet. It impacted his ankle, and he stumbled. He didn’t fall, but he did have to stop and use the table to maintain balance. Within a few seconds, he was heading for me again. I pressed my back against the wall and slid alongside it. Velric swung. His hand crashed into the wall, tearing bits of stone off and sending them showering at me.
“This is a pointless gesture,” he said.
“So is getting everyone here killed, and then killing the survivors,” I said. I stepped over a footstool and fired. When Velric took the impact, I jumped away from the wall and into an alley between tables. With two benches and a large surface between us, I felt more comfortable. However, I still ste
pped back onto one bench and climbed backwards over the next row, adding more distance.
“What do you know of our people? Of waiting in space to die because you cannot return home?” he said. He stood before the bench. Instead of climbing over it, he pounded through the wood with his leg, and then splintered the table with his fists. He slammed into the surface like it was a pool of water. Shrapnel flew across the room. I fired again, but missed.
“You could have come back at any time. Somehow you contacted them,” I said.
“The colony would have shunned us and found a way to remove us anyway,” Velric said. He stopped. It was a moment of grace. He held still, and I didn’t fire. But I kept my finger on the trigger.
“Then push back,” I said.
“You’ve lived here for a long time. How many times have you heard of us, of our accomplishments, or deeds, or history?”
“Survivors don’t spend all their time thinking about other people,” I said, remembering that the pamphlet on the flight said nothing tangible about the Belovores.
“We were forgotten. A myth in the minds of children; the shadows that they fear when they’re alone. We were nothing. Centuries of our civilization’s growth and regrowth undone within a matter of years because of a new colony. All because our pride and the arrogance of an Admiral stood in our way. At least this way we will survive in the names of every human,” Velric said.
“Even if you stay in your tunnels and come out once every man and woman and child is dead, more will come. They will bring enough firepower to wipe you from the planet,” I said. “How can you think that is a solution?”
Velric cocked to the side and sneered. He didn’t know I’d heard about where his people had hidden. He inched forward. “I am aware of the firepower you possess. One of your ancient star-ship’s engines was enough to vaporize the city you built over our home,” Velric growled. He came at me again, stepping through the shattered remains of the table. I fired again, at his leg. The shot sunk in, and he staggered.
“Then you know that you have no chance of surviving.”
“My people would never survive a resettling,” Velric said. He clenched his leg, and looked up at me through narrowed eyes.
“How do you know if you’ve never tried?”
“My people do not move at the pace yours does.”
“How do you know what your people can handle, and what they can’t?”
“I know the Belovore.”
“You’ve been here for all your life. You didn’t even go with them.”
“Fool.”
I stopped. Words alone weren’t working. I pulled the rifle up and aimed at Velric’s chest. I fired. Velric was taken aback, but I stepped forward and fired again. “One human could never survive one of these shots,” I shot again, and again. I stepped onto the bench and stopped on the table between us. “You’ve survived through I don’t know how many. You’re older than my family name.”
I fired, and this time, Velric fell backwards. The chips in his chest had grown larger. The cracks webbed out like a spider had just fashioned his chest plates. Dusty clouds as big as my fingernails fell from where he’d been cracked. He lay sprawled against the table’s remains, as I laid the rifle’s energy blasts into him. Again, and again, and again.
“You have age,” I fired.
“You have strength no human could ever possess,” I fired. “The anger you have for us is evidence enough. No human would ever hold on to anger for as long as you, and plan something so horrible.” That was when I remembered Davion’s story and the mention of the hive mind. I flashed back to the Transistor Radio station – saw how it reached so many people from the edge of the crater, recalled how the Belovores in Annalise’s neighbourhood had communicated on multiple levels in simplistic speech. Emotions were a shared experience. Velric had diluted the emotional pool. His hatred and rage was so strong that it had carried out and infected the Belovores the moment he’d made contact with them. He had to die if the Belovores were to survive. What had begun an idea had turned into a story, and that story turned into action – the narrator had been lost to a distorted sense of folklore and revenge.
“You have time on your side,” I fired again. “And a connection with your people, now. You are not, and will not ever be alone. Unless you let your people die.”
I stepped down from the table, and stood over Velric. I fired. This time, ashes clouded up into the air from the creases in his chest plates.
“No human has the tools you’ve been given, and we have flourished in ways we never thought possible. Stop thinking about death, and start thinking about how to survive,” I said. “When you are given the tools to succeed, don’t give up before you’ve even begun.”
I pressed the trigger again, but nothing happened. The chamber whined. The red reload light came on, and I felt my heart trying to climb out of my chest from fear. I tossed the gun to the side. Velric stood, groaning and pushing away from the ground to hoist himself up, and stared at me. He stepped closer. I could smell the cracks in his skin. The area beneath had begun to cook. It was as if someone had soldered him together, and the smell was emanating from every pore. Velric looked down at me and leaned in.
A loud tremor shook the compound from beneath the Hall. The roof shook, and dust careened down while pebbles introduced a beam crashing to the ground. Another beam fell and cut a table in half. Velric grabbed me by the arm and pulled me towards the door. A large block of stone shattered to the ground in front of us, and Velric yanked me back. Without control of my body, Velric carried me to the pulpit and flung me to the ground. All the air in my chest exploded away. Velric leaned over and shielded me with his arms and body. I could feel the chest plate pressing against my skin – the imperfections and cracks webbed out all over and made me think I was being pushed against uncut stone. I heard his heartbeat, and the whisper of air escaping as he breathed. He was close to dead – although, I don’t know if that was my doing or because of his age.
Velric whispered, “I have been in control.”
That was the last thing he said before the roof caved in on both of us.
The rest of Velric’s revelation comes quickly – after the gun has run out of ammunition, he looks at Leon Bishop and contemplates why he’s never considered what Leon said. Then the memory strikes him. And strikes him again. It plays over, because it’s rebounding against the hive mind much like his hatred had so long ago.
The memory is of the first Father, years ago, asking why Velric couldn’t simply have the Belovores return under a banner of peace, or ask for help. The term of refugee was insulting. Velric killed the man, and threatened to do the same to the next who denied his vengeance. Only, it wasn’t his vengeance that he wanted to complete. It was why the hive mind had been set under the control of the younger generation – if the older generation took control and refused the changes necessary for a better life, then life would never move forward. Tradition had made it so that every Belovore over a certain age underwent the same procedure of mind awakening. Most took it for granted. Velric had been taught this hundreds of times, before the Irene had come. But with the Belovores gone, and him behind, all that remained was an empty, instinctive cycle.
When the crashing begins in the Hall, Velric awakens. He breaks the feedback loop of rebounding thoughts. He severs his emotional connection over his people. As the only Belovore on Sondranos, Velric had never been given the chance to allow his mind to be shaped. Age is shaped by experience, and these emotions were always meant to be shared so that the next generation could learn. Instead, his will had seized control. He doesn’t know where the thought comes from, but the word ‘infection’ seeps in.
When the ceiling crashes to the ground, Velric tells Leon this – although, he can’t be sure Leon will remember. He describes what he can, hoping that it might stick in Leon’s mind. Velric apologizes. The link from such an age might not be as steady as he’d hoped, even though it had proven strong enough to destroy a city. He doesn’t
ask forgiveness, but understands that the cycle must be completely broken if his darkest thoughts and hatreds were ever to be severed from his people. Leon listens, but is in pain.
It took twenty minutes before we heard the rumbling of troops outside trying to dig through the refuse in the Hall. The structure hadn’t altered much, but most of what the Forgiven had used to make the place liveable was gone. Velric stood, stretched out, and a large gust of wind escaped his chest. He winced. When he saw that I was looking, he maintained his strength. He grabbed me by the throat, but didn’t squeeze. The anger in his eyes had gone.
Four soldiers pointed their weapons at him and yelled for him to release me, while two others had been pulling off the wreckage around the door with large tools that dock loaders use to move heavy containers. The soldiers didn’t fire. I could feel the ground shaking terribly as the podium beneath us cracked. I dusted some of the refuse away, and felt blood. A large gash on the side of my face felt painless, but came screaming into existence when I touched it again; my ribs hurt, and my legs ached. The only thing that didn’t give me issue was my head.
The soldiers approached slowly. The peered through large black helmets and shaded fabricated glass. Their rifles glowed a faint blue on the holsters, and they prodded Velric. He didn’t do anything to provoke them. I could hear his voice in my head even then. Velric turned around, releasing my neck and raising his arms into the air. The troops escorted him away, and then one came up to me and helped me out of the rubble. I had no idea what had happened, but I was not surprised when, as the troops led us outside the door, the grounds of the commune was swarmed with troops.
Velric went quietly, and part of me knew that he’d only grabbed my throat so that he’d look like a threat, after having just saved my life. I didn’t know what he was playing at, but I knew it wouldn’t end well for him.
Sondranos: The Narrative of Leon Bishop Page 26
