Keepers of the Flame

by McFadden III, Edward J.

  “Why isn’t the military working with you?” Peter asked.

  “They went into their shell at the beginning and never came out. They don’t even go after zombie nests as far as I know,” Gerall said.

  “Yeah, about the virals,” Milly said.

  Tester spoke. “Mutation of the virus. XK119 was the most adaptive virus ever seen. It attacked based on your specific genetic code, tailoring its attack to your particular ethnicity.”

  “But why them? Why didn’t they die like the rest?” Tye said.

  “Unknown. All I know is based on very early research being done as they looked for a cure,” Tester said.

  “Now I have a question,” Gerall said. “How the hell did you get here?”

  Tye told the story, and when they got to Hansa’s disappearance, Gerall said, “An odd child. If you can call her that. Kat and she were born a year apart.”

  “Are there others like her?” Tye said.

  “Not exactly, but similar in that they’re frozen in time, so to speak. Their gifts are different and less pronounced, but that’s just here. We’ve heard tales of much stranger things outside Stadium,” Tester said.

  Tye looked at Milly, then at Tester and Gerall. “You have communications?”

  “Oh yes. We talk to other outposts around the world, listen in on the military traffic,” Gerall said.

  “Can we try to contact Respite?” Tye said.

  “Even if you were on the same frequency, at the same time, it would be hard due to the distance. What type of equipment do they have?”

  “An emergency radio,” Tye said.

  “They might hear us as our signal bounces off the ionosphere. Signals have been known to travel half-way around the world, but there are many variables. I doubt we’d be able to receive them at this distance. Two-way communications is out of the question.”

  Tye had always known this on some level, and the ear was only on for an hour, which was a small window of opportunity. Tye rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand.

  “But if we had a frequency and a time? Would you let us try?” Milly said.

  “I’d have no problem adding that to your bill,” Gerall said.

  “Our bill?” Tye said.

  “Oh,” Gerall looked at Tester, who laughed. “Did you think our rescue services, transportation, food, wine, and use of our communications array is free?”

  “We don’t have any money, or anything of value,” Tye said.

  “Money. Money means nothing here. You need credits, and the only way to earn them is to work for them, or sell something for them.” Gerall laughed and looked at Tester again. “And they don’t look like they have much to sell.”

  “You said we could leave when we wanted?” Milly said.

  “I did, and you can. Once you pay your bill.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Year 2069, Houston, Texas

  One more day turned into a week, which turned into a season, and seven months slipped away as Milly and the rest of the fellowship tried to settle their bill. They shared food rations to take a little off the debt, but clothes and rent cost credits, and when Robin took ill and needed the attention of Gerall’s medic, they fell further behind. The group made it a point to gather at Zee’s for a drink regularly to compare notes and plan, but with each passing day these meetings became less frequent. Their discussions had moved on from paying back the bill and drifted toward working on escape.

  Eating beef and vegetables four nights a week alone was enough to put the road and the turtle out of Milly’s mind, but as the days flew by, her need to move on grew. The group had spread out as they blended into Stadium. Peter stayed with her in the Concourse B temporary housing because he wouldn’t have it any other way, but the rest were on their own. Tye was around all the time, but Robin and Jerome lived in another section and their duty cycles were different. Milly never went to the second tier, and all work performed in the upper bowl was done under armed guard, regardless of status. Gerall saw that the fellowship got decent jobs. Tye had skills and worked on the maintenance crew and the rest were jobbers and filled in for citizens who missed work. Tye said that made Milly a temp, and she didn’t like the sound of that at all.

  They sat around a table in a corner of Zee’s, sipping their favorite drinks and racking up more debt as they rehashed topics they’d discussed many times, sinking themselves in familiarity before getting down to the serious stuff. The bar hummed with chatter and laughter, and Milly closed her eyes and imagined she was in the Womb.

  “People at field level aren’t the worst off, not even close. Great halls, rooms and tunnels snake beneath the arena and people live down there in the dark, though they’re permitted on field level and in the first bowl common areas,” Peter said. Milly and the rest understood this, but Peter had been dispatched below on clean-up detail and had come back white-faced and in shock. He was still in a daze as he described conditions Milly wouldn’t let a pet hog live in.

  “The people on ground level and in the first bowl are middle class, brother,” Tye said. Milly still didn’t fully understand what class was, and she didn’t think she wanted to. “Most folks are in debt to Stadium and have been for years. They make just enough credits for food, clothes, and lodging tax and such. People don’t even know how much they owe because they never intend to pay it off.”

  “What happens if you owe too much?” Jerome said.

  “What is too much?” Robin said.

  “There’s the rub,” Milly said. “All that is at the discretion of Gerall, who maintains control with a well-paid security force, most of which live in the middle bowl in relative luxury. Despite this, the people of Stadium appear happy. Misconduct is dealt with quickly and harshly, and the crime rate is low. Though everyone’s in debt, it’s not much of a pressure. If you work steady, give a little effort, you have food and a roof over your head, with an occasional luxury. Most of all, citizens have security, protection from the world outside.”

  Tester entered Zee’s and sidled up to the bar. He nodded in their direction and Tye’s eyebrows rose. Milly felt sick to her stomach. Wormtongue’s brother had arrived.

  Old fields hoed, Peter pushed on to new business. “Tye, how did your trip go today?”

  “Good. I went about half-way out into the maze. We were working on the waste pipes,” Tye said.

  “Sounds smelly,” Milly said.

  “It was,” Tye said. “Some dipshit had gone to work on a ceramic pipe with a sledgehammer. I thought Terry was going to kill the kid. Shoot him down right there.”

  “Who’s shooting who? Where?” Tester said. He slid a stool alongside their table and looked back over his shoulder. “What be you busy little bees discussing? Escape, perhaps?” His long black hair was greasy and matted to his forehead.

  Nobody spoke.

  “Now, now. No worries.” He leaned in. “Things aren’t always what they seem.”

  Milly looked to Tye whose eyes were wide.

  “You think we’re stupid?” Milly said. “You’re Gerall’s man.”

  “Am I now.”

  A barman brought Tester his mulled wine and retreated. The man’s dark eyes watched her as he sampled his vino. When he was done, a slight smirk spread across his blank face.

  “Yeah, you are,” she said. “What do you want?”

  He sipped. “Nothing.”

  Milly sighed and Tye coughed.

  “Did you know turtles are great conservationists?” Tester said. “They can extract water and nutrients from even the most paltry of bites. Their hindgut system works like a double digestive tract, separating water from their waste. When water’s scarce, they hold water waste and excrete the urates, which look like white toothpaste.”

  “Interesting,” Tye said. “Relevant how?”

  “You know what toothpaste is?” Tester said.

  Tye didn’t respond.

  “This shit don’t mean shit,” Peter said.

  Tester’s obsidian eyes flicked to P
eter. “You want your axe back?”

  Peter nodded.

  “The rest of your weapons? Your watch?”

  “We’ll get new ones, thank you,” Milly said.

  The bar was twenty feet away but Milly felt everyone observing their verbal battle. Nobody directly watched, but they were under a constant barrage of eye flicks and peripheral vision stares. Half the bar was more interested in them than anything else. Zee’s had filled up, and the light rumble had been replaced with a roar, and people stood all around.

  “Just get to it,” Peter said. “Why have you come? Why not send a lackey?”

  “I want you to meet someone.” With a jerk of his arm he slammed the rest of the wine, pushed back his stool, and leaned forward onto the table. “Listen to what he says and find me when you’re ready.” He pulled back and looked around. In a much louder voice he said, “You will pay, or you will lose your jobs.” Tester stormed from the bar.

  Milly watched him go, and when she turned her attention back to the table, a teenage boy sat beside her. Skin and bones, dirty and ragged, the boy looked more animal than human. His hair was a nest of dirt and debris, his blue eyes as cold as the ocean. Milly pulled back in surprise.

  “Excuse me?” Tye said.

  “You fart?” the boy said.

  Nothing.

  “Badoom boom,” the boy said.

  “What’s your name and where the turtle did you come from?” Milly said.

  Wide eyes told her this was Tester’s man.

  “So? Spit it out,” Milly said. Peter contained a chuckle.

  “I’m Ingo Swan.”

  “And why did you sneak up on us like that? What do you want?” Milly said.

  “Sneak? Want? Tester said you guys wanted information about the turtle. I can split,” Ingo said. He slid off his stool and headed for the exit.

  Milly looked at Peter, then said, “This reeks of a trap, but what do we have to lose by listening?”

  “It’s a set-up,” Robin said. “They want to lead us someplace where they can prove we’re trying to skip out on our bill. Then we’ll never get out of here.”

  Tye shot to his feet and went after the boy. Half the bar noticed, and Milly had no doubts that Gerall would hear of their meeting with Ingo before it was completed.

  “I don’t understand,” Jerome said. “Why would Tester have given that away? He asked us if we were trying to escape. Tester wouldn’t do that if they were trying to trap us into escaping. He would have tried to put our minds at ease, and he wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

  “You’ve got a point,” Milly said.

  Tye was talking to Ingo, and they were making their way back to the table.

  “What about the ‘find me when you’re ready’ shit?” Robin said. She’d fully recovered, but scars covered her face from where the pox had been. The medic told them it was a new and nasty variant of chickenpox that killed one in ten who contracted it. The doc explained how Robin and all of them needed to take extra care because their immune systems hadn’t been tested much on Respite and thus would be weaker than Stadium citizens, making them more susceptible to disease.

  “Yeah,” Peter said. “Grady mentioned Tester was a turtle preacher.”

  Tye and Ingo arrived and took seats around the table.

  Silence.

  “So…” Milly said.

  “Your home is beautiful. Why did you come here?” Ingo said.

  Milly started and looked at Tye, whose forehead was knitted.

  “What game are you playing at?” Robin said.

  “The Womb, with your little waterfall.” He looked at Milly. “The Perpetual Flame and the Fire Wood.” His gaze strayed to the ceiling. “Crystal clear water, palm trees, white sand.”

  “Nice trick. Anyone in Kat and Grady’s group would know that,” Milly said. Kat and Grady were back out on patrol, and none of the fellowship had seen them in weeks.

  “Did you tell them about the box you have buried under the great tree, Milly? Or the tunnels beneath the island? Or the futility of your life? ‘A way of providing purpose and keeping you focused until a time when the world is ready for you again,’” Ingo said.

  Tye opened his mouth to reply, but didn’t.

  “So I ask you now. Is the world ready for your greatness?” Ingo said.

  “What is it you want?” Peter said. He’d become the cut-to-the-chase man.

  “To find the turtle.”

  “I think he meant, what do you want with us?” Tye said. “And how do you know these things there is no way you could know?”

  “They call it RV. I can visualize places. All I need is a little information and everything else falls into place,” Ingo said.

  “How old are you?” Milly said.

  The skinny boy looked at the floor. To Milly he looked no more than eighteen, and would be ripe to be a fire guard.

  “I’m forty-eight years old,” Ingo said. “A reborn. Like Hansa.”

  The fellowship said nothing.

  “As to what I want you for, I’ve been waiting for you. I can see the turtle in my mind, and three of you are there with me. I just don’t know how to get there. But I have this,” Ingo said. He laid a folded piece of paper on the table.

  “Wait, three of us?” Milly said.

  “Yes. You, him, and her,” the boy said. He pointed at Tye and Robin.

  “That’s Tye, Robin, Peter, and Jerome,” Milly said, pointing to each member of the fellowship in turn. “Jerome and Peter weren’t there? What did you see?”

  “We walk through a tunnel of green, and at its end, the giant white turtle awaits with the final clue,” Ingo said.

  “The final clue?” Jerome said.

  “Instructions that lead to Argartha, the new civilization where people like me gather,” Ingo said. “And him… Tye.”

  “Why him?” Peter asked.

  “He is an old one. But fear not. All are welcome says the turtle that will rebuild the world,” Ingo said.

  “If you don’t know where the turtle is, where the hell does this map lead to?” Tye said.

  “I’d been searching for the turtle for a year before I got trapped here. This map leads to a stop on the road to enlightenment. There should be a clue here that tells me where the turtle is,” Ingo said.

  “Should be a clue?” Milly said.

  “Sometimes the turtle is elusive,” Ingo said.

  “And we’re supposed to believe Tester wants to help us?” Tye said.

  “He is a man of the turtle. He gave up his people to find Argartha,” Ingo said.

  “I don’t trust him,” Tye said.

  “Nor me,” Peter said.

  “How do you plan to get out without Tester? He can get us to the outside,” Ingo said.

  Milly sighed. “And you’re sure he won’t betray us? He seemed tight with Gerall.”

  Ingo said nothing.

  “As I thought,” Milly said.

  “We don’t need Tester. With Ingo’s help I know how we can get out,” Peter said.

  Nobody spoke.

  “But you’re not gonna like it.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Year 2069, Houston, Texas

  “This isn’t so bad,” Milly said. Her head ached and her nerves jumped.

  “Save that thought,” Peter said.

  The tunnels beneath the old arena were poorly lit, dirty, and smelled of shit and vomit. The convention space in the sub-basement one was fairly habitable, but the deeper the fellowship delved the worse the conditions became, and the lower levels had no torchlight. Peter led the group through darkness, the party not wanting to draw unwanted attention. Rats scuttled about, squeaking their protests, and the swoosh of water flowing through pipes echoed in the stillness.

  “We can light a torch now. Nobody is in this deep,” Peter said.

  Tye was ahead on point, and Jerome watched their backs.

  Ingo gasped.

  “What is it?” Milly asked.

  Ingo collapsed to the
floor and shuddered in the flicker of sparks as Peter tried to light a torch.

  “I’m all right.”

  “What happened?” Milly said.

  The torch blazed, and the passageway filled with pale orange light.

  “I… Never mind. I’m fine.”

  “Bullshit,” Peter said. “What did you see?”

  Ingo started walking.

  Peter pushed him to the wall and Milly screamed for him to stop. “What did you see?” Peter repeated.

  “Respite. At least what’s left of it,” Ingo said.

  Peter looked at the ground and Ingo started walking again.

  “What does that mean?” Milly said.

  “I don’t know,” Ingo said.

  “You don’t know? Really? You can see shit you’ve never actually seen from half-way around the world, but you have no clue why you see it or if it’s true? Your image of the turtle could be a crazy delusion,” Peter said.

  “What I see is truth. I’ve proven that. When is the problem. I don’t know if what I’ve seen is past or future in this case.”

  “But why now? You went down it hit you so hard,” Milly said.

  Ingo said nothing.

  They came to a staircase that was walled off on the third step. Abandoned utility service chases angled up through the tunnel’s ceiling, and the three large ceramic pipes stacked within the passage disappeared into the concrete wall beside the blocked steps.

  Tye waited for them. “Dead end,” he said. “What happened, Peter? We can’t get out here.”

  “No,” Ingo said. “No way I’m doing that, Peter.”

  “Easy small fry,” Peter said.

  “What’s he talking about?” Milly said. “You said there was a way out.”

  “There is.” Peter pointed at the large pipes. “Tye gave me the idea when he told us about the broken waste pipe.”

  “Piss on me,” Jerome said.

  “Literally,” Milly said.

  “So your plan is to have us crawl out the waste line?” Robin said.

  “A waste line. We should try to determine which pipes are in use, and to what extent,” Peter said.

  Milly was fuming, but she was impressed. Peter was taking control and not being a wimp. She liked it. “That makes sense,” she said.