[scifan] plantation 02 - dark legion

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[scifan] plantation 02 - dark legion Page 10

by Stella Samiotou Fitzsimons


  “Those are in bad shape,” Zoe says as she snatches away my clothes. “Come with me, I’ll give you some of mine.”

  “Finn gave an account of the facts,” Nya says as I get up. “I want to know how it felt. To be out there by yourselves against an army. And to kill them all.”

  “Maybe a few survived,” I say feeling a bit uncomfortable around Nya’s clear-headedness and conviction. I always go through second-guessing everything, doubting the validity of every single action, before I can settle down on a decision.

  But as she talks about the thrill of smelling your enemy’s fear, the need to make instant choices, the knowledge that your partner depends on you, I realize that it actually felt good. It felt good to fight by Finn’s side.

  Pip wants to stay in the Labs with Doc so I follow Zoe to her room. She gives me an earful about how Nya has become Theo’s shadow. “I don’t know where this sudden interest in him is coming from,” she says handing me a new pair of leather pants, a shirt and a pair of black leather boots. “Sometimes I think she does it just to annoy me.”

  I look at the clothes in disbelief. All leather. “Why would she want to annoy you? And why would you be annoyed in the first place?”

  “I don’t know. It’s Nya after all. Who knows why she does anything?”

  “Okay, but why are you bothered by what she does?”

  Zoe thinks about this. “I don’t know that either. I guess I’m a bit territorial when it comes to Theo. It’s not like you and Finn. We don’t have that kind of connection but he is like family to me. And Nya is, well, she’s kind of dangerous.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Well, that’s good,” I say. “We need dangerous people in this group. Zoe, you don’t seriously expect me to wear these pants.”

  “I just don’t want her to play games with Theo. Put those pants on, they fit you. They’re a bit short on me.”

  “He’s not that vulnerable, Zoe. He’s a Savior. Don’t forget that. Are you sure there’s nothing else going on? I’m talking about your feelings.”

  “No, it’s not like that. He’s too carefree and everything is simple to him. If I could ever choose someone to be with, it would be someone complicated enough to keep me interested.”

  “Like Damian,” I say almost imperceptibly.

  “Well, yes, I guess. Like Damian if he wasn’t Damian, of course.”

  Somehow I know what she means. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  Zoe nods. “A secret! It’s been a while since I heard one. Come on, what are you waiting for?” she says rubbing her hands together.

  “Shy Boy is here. He followed us when we left the camp. He followed Finn and me last night and he practically saved my life.”

  I give Zoe an account of last night’s events and I can tell she’s hooked. Then she puts two and two together. “You came to find Damian right after you returned to the base,” she says. “You said it was private. Was it connected to the real reason why you and Finn went back to the camp?”

  No matter how you look at it, Zoe deserves to know the truth. At least, the main part. Besides Damian, she was the one person closest to Daphne. So I tell her about Daphne, about the box she left for Damian, about how Finn felt it was his obligation to deliver it. I leave out the part where I was present when Damian opened the box.

  Zoe is stunned. She takes my hand. “I would have gone, too, if I knew.” Tears begin to form in her eyes.

  I have seen so many tears over the years, yet every time they devastate me. Tears of anger, tears of pain, tears of helplessness and tears of loss. They always resurface, in captivity and in freedom, because to be human is to love and to love often means sorrow.

  14

  I walk around in Zoe’s black leather pants and boots. They help keep me warm in our cool, cavernous new home. My face looks almost normal again. The bruising has faded away to an imperceptible yellow, the scratches and cuts have healed leaving behind an ever slight trace of pink.

  My elbow’s a different story. Theo thinks it should be fine by now but it feels stiff and sore. Maybe it’s because I haven’t rested it like he suggested. We have been training for the last few days several hours a day.

  The Sliman don’t spend much time in the base. They have to report to the plantations, carry out their duties. Quite often we are left all by ourselves. Wudak appears every other day for an hour or so. He shows me a new way to control the receptor to reveal another power it possesses. He says I have made remarkable progress and the device is taking less of a toll on my body.

  From what Wudak has told us, two drones have landed safely so far but they haven’t been put to work yet. I have noticed that he is more reserved with me now when we talk. I don’t know if it’s all because of my indiscretion that night with the Sliman regiment or if there’s something else that preoccupies him.

  This morning something has changed though. When Wudak enters the training ring, his face is clouded with a new kind of concern I have not seen on him before. He comes straight to me and bows.

  “It has started,” he says. That gets everyone’s attention. We quickly gather around Wudak.

  “The drones took off last night,” he says. “They covered the entire district, all fifteen plantations, within a couple hours. I don’t have hard evidence for what I’m about to say but we think the drones are equipped with digital sensors that can track down your sensory receptor device when it’s powered. You’re not safe, Freya, even here. I’m sorry.”

  “So, this move here has been for nothing?” I ask.

  “No, of course not. If you weren’t here last night, they would have you now. But it’s not enough. We have to get you out of the district.”

  I’m trying to wrap my mind around what he has said. We all are.

  “We thought it was impossible to move from district to district,” Damian says. “Haven’t the districts been cut off with wide craters of some kind of toxic mud that will kill you when inhaled or touched?”

  “Acidic trimphonites, yes,” Wudak says. “They warned you about them in the plantations. They showed you videos of the areas when they exposed animals to the effects of the poison just for the benefit of having you watch. The trimphonites enclose the district of the plantations to keep them safe at all times. Though from what nobody knows.”

  “So?” I ask.

  “So, it’s a lie. The trimphonites aren’t there to keep things from coming in. They are put there to keep you from getting out. To achieve that, they didn’t have to cover the entire perimeter with that nasty stuff that is really hard to come by. Only selective points. Most of the mud is harmless but you wouldn’t know it.”

  “And you know that for sure?” I ask.

  “We know of one safe spot and we’ve been moving in and out of the district for years,” Wudak says.

  “So you know what’s out there,” Rabbit says with dreamy eyes. I’m starting to think he might ask Wudak if he has seen any cheetahs.

  “What is out there?” Damian asks. “More plantations? More breeding villages? More Sliman? More terror and death?”

  “We only know of the one district that we can go to. There are no plantations there, no villages. No trees and no animals. It’s a desert, a dead land. Destroyed by chemical missiles many decades ago. Nothing can grow there, nothing can live.”

  “So why do you go there?” Damian says.

  “And why do you want to take Freya to that wasteland?” Finn cuts in.

  “Because it’s safe. Because it’s not surveyed. Because that’s where the revolution will start.”

  “How am I supposed to live there?” I say. My imagination is already running wild with images of the Sahara and the Gobi deserts, the arid lands I’ve read about in encyclopedias.

  “The crossing point is only a few miles to the west. Once we cross it, we’ll have to travel for another ten miles before we reach Zolkon’s fortress.”

  I remember that name. Wudak mentioned it the first night we arrived to the base when we asked who w
as behind the construction. Zolkon built the underground base and reconstructed the fortress. He’s the main engineer for all fifteen plantations and the leader of what Wudak calls “the Sliman insurgence”. All the rebel Sliman follow Zolkon’s command, including Wudak.

  This new information makes Damian even more suspicious than usual. He looks at Wudak for a long while with veins pulsing in his temples. I can’t blame him. I’m taken aback myself. This idea of another Sliman leader building fortresses in the desert is a bit hard to swallow. But then Wudak says something that makes us all think twice.

  “Zolkon believes he can recalibrate the sensory receptor so that it cannot be traced. There’s nothing that he can’t do when it comes to designing technology. You will only stay in the fortress as long as it takes for him to complete the recalibration. Then I’ll bring you back and you will be ready to train again. I would take the receptor myself, but I know you won’t trust me with it.”

  “We’ll have to think about this,” I say in a low voice.

  “Think then, but you have to understand that there is no choice. It’s either that or the receptor stays powered off for good. Also, nobody else can go but you. We can’t draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves. It will just be me and you on this journey. I will be back in a few hours. I hope you’ll have an answer for me.”

  *

  Damian approaches me in the ring as I remove the white sticky powder off my hands. This powder that the Sliman gave us keeps our palms free of sweat when we train with weapons. I’m the last one to leave the ring before lunch. I am scared to stop moving because then I will have to think.

  “I talked to Wudak two days ago,” he says.

  This surprises me and he knows it. That was his intention probably.

  “I asked him about many things and he gave me more answers than I expected,” Damian says, impressed. “I hate to say this, but he seemed kind of honest. Either that or he has practiced the answers.”

  “What did you ask him about?”

  “The big questions. What happens to us when we are taken from the plantations. Where they take us. What the life expectancy is after the transfer.”

  “Were any of the answers hopeful?” I ask although I already know the answer.

  He shakes his head. “Wudak doesn’t know everything. No Sliman has a complete picture according to him. Not even this Zolkon apparently. But here’s the gist of it. When children show no potential for genetic enhancement they’re either sent off to the breeding villages or to the mines overseas, as Wudak put it. He’s never seen them but he has heard that the aliens are searching for remains of primitive meteorites that fell there. They think the meteorites contain certain radioactive isotopes that could hold a key to the recovery of the alien species.”

  I look at him perplexed. “You should run this by Theo.”

  “I will. Once I come to terms with the fact that children there aren’t expected to live longer than a year. Two maybe.”

  He sits on the hard, cold floor of the ring and hides his face in his hands for a moment. “It gets worse,” he says when I sit next to him.

  “The ones that do show potential, the ones like us ironically, they’re shipped off to planet Sliman, a place the aliens have also invaded and enslaved the indigenous population just like Earth.”

  “The planet where the first Sliman came from. Where they were first genetically modified.”

  “Yes. The children are turned into guinea pigs there. The aliens run multiple experiments on them in search of an answer. Most of them die in agony. All alone. Desperate. Some are turned into slaves. Some are executed just for the fun of it. Wudak doesn’t know what happens to those that survive the experiments.”

  He slams the floor hard and I have to grab his hand to stop him from doing it again. When he turns his face to me, there are tears in his eyes.

  “Who is it?” I say as it hits me. “Who is it that you’ve lost?” The truth is I know nothing about him. About his life before the Saviors. Before Plantation-2. We have all opened up at one time or another but not Damian.

  “Too many to remember,” he says. “It doesn’t matter. They’re all dead.”

  I know his despair because I have felt it. It has cut through my flesh and bones. It has made me angrier but it hasn’t made me stronger.

  “You should go,” he says. “You should meet that Zolkon character. We have to fight and we can’t win without you and the receptor. It’s a risk worth taking.”

  I nod. I know he’s right.

  “And I will go with you.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  “I will.”

  “Wudak would never let you of all people go. He can’t stand the sight of you,” I joke.

  “What about you? Can you stand the sight of me? Or are you too scared to even think about me after what Daphne said in that recording?”

  I don’t want to talk about Daphne and her prophecies. I have actually managed to avoid thinking about it altogether. Like a virus or a poison, I’ve expelled it from my system with medicinal doses of sleep. I’ve been going to bed early and getting up late. I can’t remember when the last time was that I slept so deeply and soundly as I have the past week.

  I don’t want to talk about it and yet I am drawn to this moment of sincerity that we share. It’s been such an emotional time ever since Finn and I fought the Sliman. Ever since I kissed Finn for the first time. Ever since Damian and I started arguing about the imaginary relationship he thought we could have. I want life to be simple again. Sleep, eat, practice, laugh and learn.

  “I don’t believe what she said. I don’t believe in destiny,” I say. “I don’t believe in dark forces that control people as if they were puppets in a play.”

  “What about the aliens? She said they were involved somehow.”

  “Nobody can control people’s feelings,” I say. “Not even the aliens. To assume that is to admit we are powerless and we are not. Look how much we’ve achieved against all odds.”

  “Conviction becomes you,” he says with a half-smile.

  “If we could always be like that,” I say.

  “Decent to each other?”

  “I was going to say nice, but yes, decent works, too.”

  He springs to his feet but then changes his mind. He squats back down and brings his face close to mine. “I cared about Daphne,” he says. “You know that. It’s bad enough she’s gone, but to know she did it to save me has been a tremendous burden.” He looks into my eyes with the deepest sincerity. “I will try and work through this, Freya.”

  When he goes, I realize that he has given me permission to leave with Wudak and at the same time he has eased my conscience about forcing Daphne’s secrets on him. Damian is an ocean whose depths I may never manage to fathom completely.

  15

  Biscuit is in control of the underground kitchen he has created. He bakes batches of bread rolls and cookies daily and saves half of them for the Sliman. He makes beef stew and chicken casseroles with the supplies that the Sliman leave on his counter, dishes we hadn’t tasted for a very long time.

  The kitchen is a small cave at the beginning of the long hallway. It’s the only place in the base besides the Labs that has a steady supply of electricity so that the fridge and the oven can function. There’s a counter in the middle with shelves underneath where all the pots and dishes are kept. There’s also a small metallic table with two chairs.

  I watch Biscuit as he spreads flour on the counter before unfolding the dough and kneading it one last time.

  “Do you want to help?” he asks.

  “No, thanks. I could never match your skill.”

  He nods. “You’re probably right.”

  “You’re not supposed to say that, Biscuit,” I protest. “You’re supposed to say I can do anything just as good as you.”

  “Of course, you can. Well, not everything. I don’t think you could ever smell out a rhubarb bush among thousands of shrubs and then make a rhubarb pie.”


  “No, I couldn’t and I’m really grateful for that.”

  I have a hard time reconciling the two Biscuits in my mind. The one seeking some sort of domestic bliss in every kitchen he can find and the one that plunges into battle with unparalleled bravery and skill.

  Rabbit and Scout walk in and when I see them like that one next to the other, I realize that Rabbit has grown considerably. He’s at least two inches taller than last month and has put on some weight. Being in the underground base has been hard on all of us but especially so on Rabbit. Not being able to run makes him antsy and restless. Maybe that’s why he’s been eating more.

  “We’re starving,” he says now and walks to the fridge.

  “When are those going to be ready?” Scout asks looking at the rolls that Biscuit expertly forms with the dough.

  Biscuit slaps her hand when she reaches out to grab some dough.

  “You have to say please and about an hour,” he says.

  Scout crunches up her face. “Please,” she says imitating Biscuit’s voice, “and an hour is too long.”

  “There’s breadsticks in the fridge,” Rabbit says and hands one to Scout.

  “You’re supposed to heat them up first,” Biscuit says rolling his eyes.

  “I like them better cold,” Rabbit says and takes a big bite.

  “Where’s Tilly?” I ask.

  “She’ll be here shortly. She’s with Wudak in the ring,” Scout says. “Well, everyone is. We just got tired.”

  “And hungry,” Rabbit says.

  “Wudak’s back?” I ask.

  Rabbit and Scout nod. “He’s here with Gritu and Malzod,” Rabbit says.

  I head for the training ring with slow steps. Why didn’t Wudak call for me? I have to inform him of my decision, put things in motion.

  Wudak is in the ring with Finn, Nya, Tilly and Theo. Damian and Doc watch the action with their backs against the wall. Pip sits at their feet. On the opposite wall, Gritu and Malzod are cleaning their pulse guns.

  “The one main issue that the primitive Sliman have is the one that the aliens have as well,” he says. “They don’t think they can be defeated. Even now that they know what you kids can do, they still don’t think you have a chance in hell. And it has never crossed their mind there could be mutiny in the ranks of the mutant army. That’s our advantage. That and Freya,” he adds as he takes notice of me.

 

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