[scifan] plantation - books one to three

by Stella Samiotou Fitzsimons

when I told you I lost it?”

  “I was going to put it back eventually.” He peers into my eyes, coldly. “Come on, Finn, don’t

  look at me like that.”

  “Eventually is not an option. We have to act immediately or else one day hesitation will be our

  undoing. Hesitation is death out here.” He stops to exhale. “Freya, your worst enemy is yourself. In

  fact, your only enemy in this camp is yourself. Damian’s right. I can’t help you. Only you can.”

  When he turns and goes I feel suddenly alone, orphaned. I want to run after him and beg for his

  forgiveness but that’s my whole problem, I react too fast, too strong, too selfishly. Maybe tomorrow

  he will hate me less. He can’t just stop caring for me, can he? He’s cared about me for so long.

  I go inside the tent and notice the new mattress on the bed. I sit on it and realize it’s the best

  mattress I’ve ever had, firm yet soft, relaxing and comforting. Finn will understand. If not, I will make him. Everything will be as before. We will be forever connected. This time I will be a better friend to him.

  I will be a better friend to everyone. That’s what he wants and I can never imagine a life without

  Finn.

  8

  I hate cleaning days but today I’m actually glad it’s my turn. Maybe I can stop mulling over the

  same things again and again. It’s good that it is also Tilly’s day. Her constant chattering and her good nature despite her bandaged foot are much appreciated and needed.

  We’ve just finished cleaning the bathrooms, a task that is painfully unpleasant on a good day.

  Given my mood and lack of concentration today, it would have been beyond miserable if not for

  Tilly.

  We’re headed to the kitchen and that at least is an improvement. We start picking up glasses and

  plates from the tables. The kitchen used to be a lab. It took a couple weeks to convert it to what it is today. There are two ovens that were once used for chemical processes and reactions but are now put

  into culinary uses on a daily basis. The most accomplished cook among us is without a doubt Biscuit,

  with Theo coming in last. I rank somewhere in the middle and so does Tilly.

  There’s plenty of counters and cupboards in the room, two long metal tables with six chairs

  each, a big clock on one wall that doesn’t work and a picture of a rooster on the opposite wall. The

  latter was confiscated from a demolished house in Lost Town. Practically the only thing that was left

  unharmed as if protected by magic.

  I ask Tilly to take over cleaning the counters while I concentrate on the ovens. It’s fair since I

  am not injured in any way besides my pride. Tilly finds a bowl of half-eaten dough behind the mixer

  and starts laughing.

  “I know who’s been here,” she says and both of us exclaim at the same time, “Biscuit!”

  When Biscuit’s name was picked for him, it was not the usual method, but it has proven to fit

  him perfectly. We were walking along a creek that day when we saw some small round things floating

  in the water.

  “What’s that?” Rabbit asked.

  Biscuit’s eyes turned gooey. “It looks like biscuits to me,” he said.

  We all smiled realizing his mistake.

  Damian was the one who said it. “It’s moose turds, you nincompoop.”

  Rabbit and Scout fell on the ground laughing while even Damian started to chuckle. We could

  see Biscuit still wasn’t sure it was moose droppings and he kept staring at them hoping we were all

  wrong. What could I do then? I fell on the ground and laughed with Scout and Rabbit.

  That’s how a boy named Harry had his name changed to Biscuit.

  “It’s a wonder he doesn’t weigh 200 pounds,” Tilly says now.

  In fact, he’s as fit and athletic as the rest of us. As much as he likes food, he burns his calories

  faster than Rabbit can cover a mile.

  “We all have our regrettable habits. Biscuit’s aren’t all that bad and he gets away with them,” I

  conclude.

  “There’s not a single thing bad about him,” Tilly says. “He’s thoughtful, gentle and funny. And

  he can laugh better than anyone.”

  “Anyone besides you, maybe,” I tease her.

  Tilly makes a scrunched up face. She likes Biscuit.

  “He’s better than me at almost everything that involves physical and intellectual skills,” she

  says.

  “Is it Biscuit we’re still talking about? Am I missing something?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, he’s not better than you at anything. You guys both have your strong points, but yours

  are exceptionally strong. As Doc once put it, you have bionic ears and eyes. Nobody can beat that.”

  “Well, I wasn’t talking about our special abilities that nobody knows where they came from.

  You know, Biscuit’s nose could be bionic, too.”

  “What good would a bionic nose be?” I exclaim.

  “I don’t know, but have you seen how good he is during the martial arts practice? He’s getting

  better and better.”

  “Alright, we’ve established that Biscuit is great,” I say finally. Tilly blushes now so I change the

  subject. “Everyone is exceptional in their own way. For some reason the aliens made us this way.”

  “Oh, Freya, we are more than our abilities. Don’t say it so coldly. We have hearts and minds

  untouched by them.”

  “You’re right, Tilly. My attitude always sucks. I don’t know why. The most exceptional thing

  about the Saviors is that we have each other’s backs.”

  “Yeah, I never got a chance to properly thank you, you know, for coming back for me up in the

  hills, you and Daphne.”

  It strikes me that the only reason we were running that day and Tilly fell behind was my

  carelessness. My daydreaming almost put her back into slavery or worse. “You would have done the

  same thing,” I say sheepishly. “I told you, we have each other’s backs.”

  “Biscuit says we are like The Three Musketeers. One for all and all for one.”

  “I think it’s easier to make three as one than twelve as one.”

  “The Three Musketeers are actually four anyway,” she informs me.

  “Is that a book he’s read?”

  “Yes, Biscuit made me read it,” she says beginning to blush again.

  “I’ll put it on my list.”

  We get back to work. I scrub the oven while Tilly wipes down the tables. She’s curiously silent

  now. She hasn’t uttered a word in at least two minutes.

  “Freya?” she calls to me suddenly.

  “What?”

  “Do you think there’s such a thing as love?”

  “Of course there is. We love each other, don’t we?”

  She stops her work and looks me straight in the eyes.

  “That’s not what I meant. I mean, love like we read in the novels. Between a boy and a girl. Like

  Romeo and Juliet.”

  “Oh, Tilly. Does Biscuit know?”

  “Know what?”

  “That you love him.”

  “I don’t! That’s not why I’m asking.”

  She turns away, goes back to wiping the table.

  “Well, then, no, I don’t believe there’s such a thing as romantic love. Not in our world. There’s

  no time for that. No point.”

  I go back to scrubbing, thinking I have said the right thing. We are all so new to this autonomous

  life and it would be stupid to think we can control our future while there is an alien invasion on Earth.

  Every day, for all we know, could be our last.
/>
  Tilly comes at me again with a new determination on her face. “Freya, how can you say that?

  What about Finn and you?”

  “Finn and me? You can’t be serious,” I say laughing.

  “Why not? You take off together all the time. You always support him and he supports you. Just

  like in the books.”

  “Finn and I are friends, Tilly. Very good, close friends. At least we used to be until I screwed

  up big time.”

  “What did you do? When?”

  “Let’s just say it might take him a long while before he forgives me.”

  Her face takes on that mischievous expression that tells me she’s not done talking about this.

  “I’ll believe you if you say that’s how it is, but just so you know, everybody thinks otherwise.”

  “Who’s everybody? What are you talking about?”

  “Everybody is everybody. Well, I don’t know about Damian. He might not think about those

  things, but definitely Biscuit, Rabbit and Scout. Zoe and Nya, too. They’re girls. They notice.”

  “You are all crazy. Quit talking about me behind my back.”

  Tilly says they’ve only brought it up once or twice and that it wasn’t focused on Finn and me,

  they talked about what love really was and why people seemed to think about it so much in the days

  before the invasion.

  We probably all of us have wondered about such things one time or another. But they are

  counterproductive meanderings so I try not to dwell too much upon them. Our lives are hard enough

  as it is.

  Daphne interrupts my train of thought when she walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge. She

  can’t find what she’s looking for and turns to us.

  “Is there no lemonade left?” she asks.

  “I don’t know,” Tilly responds.

  I point at the fruit basket.

  “There’s some lemons in the basket. Why don’t you make some lemonade? I could use a glass

  after all this scrubbing,” I suggest.

  Daphne doesn’t even bother to answer me. She leaves the kitchen as quickly as she can.

  Tilly sighs. “Now Daphne is a different story. She has her eyes set on Damian. But he seems to

  be completely unaware. There can be no mistake there, she’s in love with him. Even you can see that,

  right? It’s so romantic.”

  I have no idea where Tilly and the rest of them get these ideas. Daphne of all people romantic

  and in love. You need a heart to do that, don’t you? It’s absurd, maybe even more absurd than what

  they’re saying about Finn and me.

  Obviously, we all have too much time on our hands.

  *

  DAPHNE HURRIES TO CATCH UP with me on my way to the showers. I immediately dread

  her sense of urgency. “Whatever it is, can it wait?” I say. “I’m feeling grimy after all that cleaning. I need to hit the shower.”

  “Relax, I’m not here to lecture you. I just want to talk.”

  Daphne wants to talk to me. I would have been less surprised if she sprouted wings and flew

  away. For better or worse, she’s managed to grab my attention. Part of me wants to be on her good

  side and put our silly differences aside.

  “It’s safe to say that you hate Damian, am I right?” she says with a sweet smile on her face.

  It takes me a couple seconds to comprehend what she is suggesting. “Hate him?” I say finally.

  “Of course I don’t hate him. I don’t hate anyone. At least not anyone human.”

  “Not even me?”

  “Daphne, where is this going? I really want to shower.”

  She places both hands on my shoulders and stares into my eyes. “I noticed you didn’t answer the

  question,” she says.

  “I don’t hate you, Daphne.”

  “That’s nice to know. Really. Maybe now you know it, too.”

  I nod unable to speak or look away. Her eyes shine like two bright blue stones in the night. I feel

  like a stunned deer staring at bright lights.

  “Your dislike of me comes only from my association with the person you truly hate,” she goes

  on. “The person that really stands between you and your self-esteem. Damian.”

  I’m about to nod again when something clicks in me and I put two and two together. Daphne’s

  spell is broken and I sweep her hands off my shoulders.

  “What are you doing?” I say. “You’re not allowed to hypnotize me without my consent! This

  goes against everything we have agreed to.”

  She laughs my protests off. “It’s just a joke, Freya. I didn’t really think you’d fall for it.”

  “A joke? Do you see me laughing?”

  “You’re too serious. That’s the whole problem with you. Lighten up, Freya. Life’s too short.”

  She strolls away while I’m still trying to recover my bearings after that short mental state of

  confusion she produced in me. Of all the things she has ever pulled on me, this must have been the

  strangest.

  9

  The day is brilliant, blue and green with a soft breeze blowing from the north. A much needed

  change from the relentless heat wave of the last few days. We couldn’t have asked for better weather

  for our training day.

  Nobody’s stayed behind. Our camp is empty and unguarded. The only protective measure now is

  Theo’s radar that will inform us if anything unusual takes place.

  We have been practicing for two hours in a small clearing in the woods about two miles south

  from camp beyond the hills. We have trained in groups and separately, from martial arts to target

  shooting and even sword fighting.

  Rabbit has tried to improve his short-distance running records. Scout has uncovered hidden

  clues strategically placed by Biscuit. Nya has fired her teleguided arrows with amazing precision.

  Daphne has tried out her powers of suggestion on Tilly and Zoe. Finn has climbed on completely flat

  surfaces, something only he can manage. Everybody has trained at general combat and at their special

  skills and I have kind of faked the latter making loops with my ropes and throwing them around tree

  branches.

  We take a break to have a bite. We’re sweaty and talkative. Finn has been formally nice to me

  all morning. He’s not angry, but he’s distant in a way that only I can perceive. And it breaks my heart.

  No matter how many times I apologize, he will not fully forgive me. Not until I have proven that I

  have learnt something.

  It has always been like that with Finn. It’s all or nothing with him. Even back on Plantation-8 he

  would not give me or anyone else the slightest room for wiggling as far as honesty. He used to say

  that if we didn’t trust and support each other, we didn’t have anything. And then we would be truly

  lost and the alien invaders would have defeated us completely.

  Life on Plantation-8 was hard and exhausting. Most of all, it left you feeling alone and hopeless.

  Our schedules were so busy that we barely had a moment to ourselves and I guess that might have

  been good. It didn’t leave us a lot of time to think and worry about what was coming next.

  We weren’t allowed to talk to each other freely except during meals and the break before

  bedtime that lasted 20 minutes. Even then, we had to speak in low voices and one at a time. The

  aliens hated disorder and loud noises.

  Finn started talking loud one day during one of those breaks, wondering why the aliens kept us

  alive, why they trained us, why they bothered to teach us how to read and write, why they allowed us


  to socialize and develop distinct personalities.

  Everybody around him felt nervous and tried to avoid looking at him. It wasn’t long before two

  guards walked into the dining room and ordered Finn to stand up. They asked him to repeat what he

  had been saying. Finn obliged them immediately without altering a single word.

  He was stricken with a Sliman taser and brought to his knees. He was twelve-years old but age

  was relative in the plantations. We had all grown into a forced adulthood. We were hard as rocks and

  depended solely on ourselves but didn’t know anything about the outside world or its history.

  Finn was taken away that day and didn’t return until the following week. I despaired thinking he

  could be dead or sent away to wherever it was that they sent us to once they had no use for us

  anymore.

  My whole body ached, my soul was inconsolable as I feared the worst. In the end, even my 11—

  year-old self knew pretty well what I know now: I loved Finn and needed him with an urgency that

  defied every single law and regulation of our very existence in the plantation.

  Finn came back thinner and paler. He had been submitted to electroshocks, he had been starved

  for three days before being injected with nutrients and medications. He had gone through hell but he

  had not apologized. Finn didn’t lie then and he won’t lie now no matter how much the truth can hurt.

  I scan the area around me trying to find the least conspicuous way to get away from the party

  when Daphne jumps at me and throws me down to the ground. She loses her balance and falls herself

  right next to me. Our limbs get tangled and I can hear her breathing in my left ear.

  I look at her as if she were mad and then she points at a small dark figure a few feet away from

  us on its hurried way to vanish under a rock.

  “A scorpion,” she tells me as she gets back up and walks away at a quick pace. I have to

  wonder if she’s sincere. Did she notice that from a hundred yards away? Is she really superhuman as

  she’s been trying to convince us? Do I have to be in her debt now?

  She’s not that bad, I think to myself in an effort to be fair as Finn would have wanted me to if he

  had witnessed the whole scene.

  Come to think of it, she might not be half as annoying if I hadn’t been pushing her buttons from