The Hourglass

by Donaldson, Casey

  “First time out of the gates?”

  Sarah nodded without looking at him. “You?”

  He shook his head. “I’m from a different city. This bus passes through three or so cities before it gets to the ship. We’ve been driving all night. I think yours was meant to be the last one.”

  Sarah turned to look at him properly. She had never met anyone from a different city before. “What city did you live in? Does it look much like mine? What’s it like?”

  “It’s mostly the same. A bit smaller. It’s sort of hard to tell from looking out of a bus window. The soldiers are pretty much a law-unto-themselves. Is that the same with yours?”

  Sarah frowned. “Not really. I mean, we have judges and things, and you never see the soldiers doing anything illegal, if that’s what you mean?”

  “Yup, so our cities are different then,” replied Finn grimly. “Sure, we have judges, but the soldiers are doing whatever they damn well please, no matter who gets hurt.” He was scowling now and his brown eyes appeared slightly unfocused, as if he was remembering something unpleasant in the past.

  “But you were thinking of joining them just before,” said Sarah slowly, confused.

  “It doesn’t mean I have to be like them,” he said angrily. He ran a hand through his white hair and sighed tiredly. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. The ship… the ship doesn’t sound that great.”

  “No,” agreed Sarah, “it doesn’t.”

  There was a pause. Sarah decided that she didn’t want to think about the ship and tried to rekindle the conversation about their cities. “We don’t have much food,” she offered. There had been recent hikes in the price of food and people had actually protested. A memory of Marland whispering her conspiracy theories came back to her. “Have you heard anything about some of the farms getting bombed?”

  Finn snorted. “Yeah, or course. Why do you think food-stuff has increased so much in price?”

  Sarah stared at him, surprised. “How do you know?”

  “Because they tell us, of course. What better way to frighten the populace into doing what you want and not rebell against those who are meant to be there to protect you than to point out just how shit things are outside the city.”

  Sarah blinked. This definitely lent credence to Marland’s claims, but it was odd how the reasons behind what their leaders told the people differed so much. She just hoped that the throwing people overboard theory was still craziness.

  “Obviously we still have food, but what you get very much depends on what you can afford,” continued Finn with a shrug, his expression clearing. “We actually have a bit of farming land surrounding us that hasn’t taken any hits, so the fresh stuff is there, but only if you can afford it. Or if you’re a soldier, in which case you just take it.” His expression darkened again.

  Sarah blinked in surprise. The soldiers in her city would never do that. It was against the law, which they took painfully seriously.

  “How can it be so different? I mean, your city and mine? They’re both run by the Covenant, right?”

  Finn shrugged again. “A lot depends on the person in power, I guess. If they are ok with blackmail and thievery it filters down the ranks.”

  “So basically you’re saying your Mayor is a dick.”

  Finn laughed. “Yeah, I suppose that sums it up nicely.”

  “Ours is too, but in a different way I suppose. She’s just strict. Same rule applies for everyone, no matter what the circumstances.”

  The view outside the window caught her attention and Sarah gasped. The Covenant soldiers’ buildings were gone. All she could see were long fields of grass spotted with the occasional tree. She had never seen such a wide space without a building before.

  “Look at all this space!” She groaned longingly. If only they would expand the city. Maybe then her family wouldn’t have to live in a tiny two room flat, separated by neighbours on all sides by only thin walls and thin roofs and floors. She knew why they didn’t, of course. They would have to assign more soldiers for protection, and they needed every last man and woman they could get out on the fighting fields. But, still, the idea was wonderful. She realised with a second shock that all she could hear was the old bus groaning and the occasional chatter from the others in the bus. There was no yelling, no shouting, no trucks. It made her feel somewhat exposed and she hugged her arms reflexively.

  “Quiet, isn’t it?” mumbled Finn, also looking out of the window.

  Sarah stared at him. It was like he could hear her thoughts. She had heard that there were people out there who could read minds, that the radiation from all the bombs had changed them somehow. She didn’t know if she believed it or not. There were plenty of people in her city who claimed that they had the ability, but she knew most of them were charlatans. The thought disturbed her and she pushed it out of her mind. They lapsed into a relaxed silence after that, just watching the scenery change as they drove past. A few times they drove through towns whose buildings were cracked and falling down, obviously abandoned some time ago. In these towns plant-life had somehow managed to grow wild between the concrete slabs and the brick cracks, yet it couldn’t disguise the signs of war, which cut through the greenery like an ugly scar. Every now and then they would pass a crater where no plant life had encroached upon. Or they would pass kilometres of rolled up barbed wire, just threading its way through the abandoned streets. They were still fairly heavily in Covenant territory, so the bus should be safe from attack, but at the same time she did feel terribly exposed. Occasionally they would pass the entrance to farmland. These were heavily guarded and their bus was stopped frequently by soldiers making sure that they were who they were meant to be.

  Approximately two hours later the bus trundled to a stop. They had arrived at a large industrial warehouse. Hardy trees and shrubs stretched out from either side of the building as far as she could see. The bus driver pulled up the handbrake and waddled off the bus. Four guards had appeared outside and one of them now entered the bus. She held a gun in a lowered position against her shoulder.

  “Everyone off the bus.”

  Chapter Seven

  Crime and Punishment

  The eight prisoners stood up, some stretching, and walked off the bus. It was windy outside and the coldness of it ripped through the thin jacket Sarah was wearing. The guard with the gun followed them off the bus. Another guard had a handheld device. It was similar to the one the soldier had used to tattoo her court date on her arm but there were obvious differences. It was bulkier and the tattoo attachment was different. He walked up to the first prisoner in line. It was a boy, about fourteen. He looked weedy and had a hunched over posture. The guard held the device up near the boy’s face, comparing the boy with his documented citizen picture. The guard then reached down and grabbed the boy’s wrist. The boy didn’t look too concerned. He was probably thinking the same thing as Sarah, that he was just going to get temporarily inked. The guard placed the device on the wrist and pressed a button. The boy yelped in pain. He withdrew his wrist and looked at it, surprised. A barcode was burnt into his flesh.

  “Holy shit!” yelled the boy standing next to him. This boy was larger. He had shaggy brown hair and was nearly six feet tall, although still gangly. The guard ignored the outburst and moved over to him, preparing to go through the same motions. The boy wasn’t having any of it. He backed away and then turned and ran, sidestepping around another guard in the process.

  “Stop!” yelled one of the guards. “Stop now!”

  The boy ignored him and continued to run. He was fast and was making a beeline for the trees. Sarah glanced around. Everyone else was paying attention to the boy. She could probably slip away now and nobody would notice. But where would she go? There wasn’t another building in miles, just this endless, uninterrupted scrub. Her attention was brought back to the action as the boy let out a shriek. They had fired a shot of electricity at him. His whole body convulsed twice on the ground before becoming still. One o
f the guards walked over to him, his gun trained the whole time. He reached the prone body and nudged it with his boot. The boy didn’t move. He brought out a pair of handcuffs and snapped them onto the boy’s wrist, then used them to drag the boy back to the group. Every now and then the boy’s head would hit the ground with a horrible thud as he was dragged over the uneven ground. Sarah felt sick. Finn was looking pale. Some of the other prisoners were watching it coolly, whereas others, like Marland, were trying to focus on anything but what was happening. The guard finally reached them and dropped the boy’s arms none too gently. The guard with the ID device walked over and burnt a barcode into the boy’s wrist. He then stood up and moved to the next prisoner. It was Marland. She was pale as a ghost and stood shaking slightly, but she didn’t resist when he grabbed her wrist. She only winced when they burnt the barcode in. Finn was before Sarah. He didn’t resist either, but he stared at the guard the whole time, not blinking. A muscle in his cheek twitched when the code was burnt into his flesh, but that was all. Sarah looked away and tried to think of something else when it was her turn. She didn’t want to remember the guard’s face, or any of this. She just wanted to serve out her time as quickly as possible and get the hell out of there. It was quicker than she thought, but it hurt like hell. And it smelt. That was probably the worst of it. She could smell her own burning flesh. The guard moved on and she examined her arm tentatively. The barcode was about two by four centimetres, the lines fine and delicate, but they were burning an angry red. She gently placed her other hand over it, wincing at the pain but appreciating for the first time how cold the wind had made her hand. She glanced around. Most of the others had done the same, except for Finn. He had wrenched his sleeve back down, covering the burn completely. It must have hurt more for it.

  “Ok, let’s move,” ordered one of the guards. She gestured with her rifle towards the door of the warehouse. They walked over to it. The unconscious boy was lifted over the shoulder of one of the guards in a fireman’s lift.

  Sarah shivered with appreciation as soon as they entered the building. It was warm and they were out of the wind. The warehouse consisted of one large open space inside. There were a number of cubicles situated near their end of the room. The half of the building furthest away from them appeared to be mostly for storage, containing large shipping containers and boxes of various sizes and shapes stacked up in piles. A few of the people in the cubicles glanced up as they passed, but not all of them. They were ushered straight through to the far side, where there was another door. One of the guards advanced and wrenched it open. Sarah gasped. There was a pier leading straight off from the doorway, and at the end of it sat a thirty metre long enclosed boat. It looked dull but fast. Yet this wasn’t what had caught her attention. Everywhere she looked there was water. She had never seen the sea before. She had heard about it, of course. Old Martin who lived in her apartment block had told her about it once. She snorted at the memory. ‘Big and wet’ hardly seemed to cover it. Most of the other prisoners had also stopped walking and were likewise staring at it in amazement. They were all prodded forward and made to walk along the pier. As they approached the boat Sarah started to freak out a little. What would they do if the boat sank? What if they ran out of food or water? She realised Finn was breathing heavily besides her.

  “Are you ok?” she asked.

  “I can’t swim,” he muttered between clenched teeth.

  Sarah thought back to the small pool near her apartment that regularly filled up with water when it rained. A few of the apartment kids used to play in it when she was younger and better at making friends. Her doggie-paddling and the few strokes she could pull off in the small space seemed far from adequate now.

  “Well, hopefully you won’t need to.”

  She looked back at the boat. It seemed a lot smaller than she had imagined. One of the other kids seemed to think the same.

  “Is this it?” the girl asked one of the guards. “Is that the prison ship?”

  The guard laughed. “No. That’s what we’re using to transport you to the ship.”

  They arrived at the boat and gingerly stepped onto the back decking. A few of them stumbled at the slight rocking motion. The guards prompted them to enter the hatch and go down the stairs below. It took Sarah a moment to adjust to the gloominess inside. There were two portholes on the side, providing the room’s only source of light. A bench ran along three of the walls. They all sat down, facing each other. The unconscious boy was laid down in the middle of the floor. The guard then retreated outside and closed the door, making it even darker.

  “So,” said Heather, spreading out as much as she could on her bench. “What did you losers do?”

  No one answered her. Heather wasn’t dissuaded. She turned to face the weedy fourteen year old, who had been the first to have his barcode burnt on. Every now and then he would suck on his teeth in a way that Sarah found repulsive.

  “You, skinny, what’s your name?” she demanded.

  The boy shrugged his shoulders awkwardly. “Toddy.”

  “What did you do?”

  His eyes darted around the cabin, looking for a way out of answering, but no help came.

  “Well?” demanded Heather.

  “Um, I poisoned some meat,” he muttered. “I just wanted to give the guy a belly-ache, you know? But he got really sick and well… yeah.”

  “You killed him?”

  “Nah, he lived. Just, well, he was really sick.” He sucked at his teeth again. Sarah wished he would stop doing that.

  Heather rolled her eyes. “And you?” she demanded, looking at a boy with black hair and dark eyes. He was, Sarah couldn’t help but notice, incredibly good looking.

  “I stole a police horse,” he said, his face covered in a huge grin at the memory. “What did you do?”

  “Stabbed a man,” said Heather, her voice full of bravado. She pointed at Sarah, “She’s a thief,” she pointed at Marland, “and she’s an arsonist.” She turned back to the black-haired boy. “What’s your name?”

  “Colt.”

  Sarah snorted in amusement. The others all turned to look at her. None of them were even smiling. She flushed. “Colt, and well, he stole a horse,” she explained. “It’s just apt, that’s all.”

  Finn gave her a slow smile and even Colt smirked, but the rest of them just gave her a blank look.

  “That’s Justin,” said Toddy, who also hadn’t got the pun. He pointed at the tall, gangly unconscious boy on the floor. “He streaked through an important government ceremony. They didn’t give him back his clothes for three days after they caught him.” He grinned as if this was the funniest thing in the world.

  Heather chortled but no one else laughed. It was hard to find it funny when he was lying there unconscious. Heather turned to the youngest person on the boat. “How about you, pipsqueak?” It was the small girl Marland had sat next to on the bus.

  “What’s it to you?”

  “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” bristled Heather. She stood up. Sarah assumed she did it to appear more menacing.

  “I don’t know. Nobody, probably.” There was a slight pause as Heather processed this and then she advanced on the girl.

  “Leave her alone,” said Finn.

  Heather gave him an ugly look. “No need to ask why you’re here, freak. I bet they made any excuse to get you locked away.” She looked pointedly at his hair. Finn flushed. He went to retort back but the girl interrupted him.

  “I can fight my own battles,” she said, staring at Finn with dislike. Finn just threw up his hands.

  “Fine, whatever.”

  The girl looked at Heather evenly. “I sold black-market fruit, and before you ask, my name’s April.”

  “Good girl,” said Heather, giving her a cold smile and sitting back down.

  There was an awkward pause after that, their early story-sharing having been poisoned by the antagonism now radiating around the room. Nobody spoke for the rest of the journey. A
combination of fear of the approaching prison ship and nausea started to permeate the space. Sarah had enjoyed the boat’s rocking at first, but after ten minutes the roiling motion had gotten to her. She didn’t have it as bad as some, however. Toddy looked like he was going to be sick at any moment. Sarah hoped that he could keep it in. There was nothing for him to be sick into and she knew that if he vomited, she wouldn’t be that far behind. Finn was sitting very still with his eyes closed, apparently going through the same thing. At some point the boy on the floor, Justin, woke up. He cried a little and sat up, but he didn’t move to sit on the bench. Sarah had never felt more hopeless in her life. She looked at the burn on her arm. She hated it. It was a cruel thing to do. It meant that everyone would know, for all eternity that she was a convict. Eventually the motions of the boat slowed down. Sarah leaned over so that she could see out of one of the grimy portholes. All she saw was a wall of grey metal. They had arrived then. There was shouting above them and the sound of movement. Ten minutes later the hatch door swung open, bringing sunlight and fresh air down into the room. A guard stuck his head in, smiled, and then leaned back out again.