in the tunnels but I can’t locate it.
Wudak stands in front of a small opening in the back of the cavern. “This is where our lodgings
begin,” he says. “Most of our allies have tried to make it here for your arrival.”
I think we’re going to go through the opening but Wudak moves away from it and walks back to
the last part of the tunnel. He searches the wall where the tunnel meets the cavern. He finds what he’s looking for and pushes on it.
The result of his action is immediate. A part of the wall, about six feet high and two feet wide,
caves in and gives way to a hidden tunnel.
We walk inside this new tunnel for a few more minutes and then it starts to get wider and more
rounded. When we reach the end, we come upon a new cavern, very similar to the last one but quite
bigger. There is a long table with red metallic chairs in the middle of the cave. Twenty Sliman stand
by the walls all around the cave. They look huge in the enclosure of the cavern, clad in black as
always and staring at us with extreme curiosity.
In a moment all eyes turn on me. They have recognized me. I realize that I’m still holding Finn’s
hand and let go immediately.
The Sliman bow their heads as a sign of recognition and put their right arm across their chest.
It’s the Sliman salute and the memories it brings back from the plantation days aren’t pleasant. We
will all have to adjust to this new reality.
I steal a glance at Damian for the first time during the journey. He’s doing his best to control
himself and not have us get the hell out of here. All of us look stunned and uncertain actually.
“We’ll take you to your quarters now,” Wudak says. “You can settle down and get some rest.
We’ll meet up in the morning and make all the necessary introductions.”
One of the Sliman we have just met pulls a kind of lever under the table and a door opens.
“Who designed this place?” Theo whispers.
“Zolkon,” Wudak says but gives no further explanations.
We are led through the door and down an endless hallway with consecutive wooden doors on
both sides. There are numbers on each door. We started at number 1 and now we’re down to number
40. The Sliman stop.
“Numbers 41 through 52 are yours,” Wudak says. “Each of you can have a private room. You
can pick whichever you want although they are identical. There’s water and food waiting for you
inside and some clothes in case you need to change. We hope you will all find something that fits.”
I’m speechless. They have thought of almost everything.
“Door No 55 is a library,” Gritu says. “You like books, don’t you?”
No, not almost everything. They have thought of absolutely everything. Do they know about Lost
Town and the library? Have they been covering up for us all this time while we were stupid enough
to think our actions went by unnoticed?
One of the Sliman introduces himself as Quax and takes a chain of keys out of his pocket. He
starts to unlock the doors one by one and opens them wide for us to take a peek.
The rooms are neat and tidy. There’s a bed in each one of them, a desk and a chair, a closet and
a sink. There are torches on the walls and candles on the desks.
“Is there no electricity in the base?” I ask Wudak.
“There is, but we like to conserve it for the important things,” he says. “I will show you
tomorrow. I can arrange to have electricity in your room if you so wish.”
“No, that’s fine,” I say. “I was just wondering out loud.”
“I have to go,” he says. “You can ask Quax for anything you need.”
I nod and he’s gone along with Gritu, Malzod and the other three Sliman that followed us here.
The only one left behind is the one named Quax. He looks like any other Sliman but is heavier than
most of them. On his cheek there’s a tattoo of a yellow rose.
All the doors are open now but Quax stays put. “At your service,” he tells me clicking his boots
together.
“That’s all, I guess,” I say. Then after a short pause I add, “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he says but he still won’t move.
“Um, you can go.” I can’t be clearer than that, can I?
“We’re all like tomatoes,” he says.
“Tomatoes?” Biscuit inquires, interested now.
“Yes, one gene taken out, one gene injected in. Perfect outcome. We’re all the same. Mutants.”
By “all” he means the Sliman and the Saviors. We realize that when he smiles revealing a set of
gray teeth.
“We’ll take it from here, Quax, thank you,” I say as I practically shove him down the hallway.
“Should we draw to decide who goes where?” Zoe says.
Damian decides to speak for the first time since we entered the tunnels.
“Who cares?” he says irritated. “Just get inside a door and close it behind you.” This whole
thing is a lot harder on him than it is on anyone else. He must feel like he has relinquished all control and for some reason it bothers me that he should feel like that. There’s nothing I can do about it
though.
I turn to my sister. “Okay, Pip, we can stay together.”
“No, no, Freya. I never had a room of my own before.” She thinks for a moment. “I want door
number 45,” she says.
Her decisiveness is refreshing. We could all use some of that right now. “I guess I’ll take 47 so
we’re next to each other,” I say and pick up my few possessions.
Finn doesn’t waste any time. He picks door number 46 right across from Pip and me. Damian
walks down the hallway to the last door. Nobody is surprised. He always stays a bit apart from the
rest of us. Something on his face, though, tells me that he would have liked to be in the middle of the group this time. If only it hadn’t been for the fact that he’d then have to be close to me.
I don’t know, maybe it’s all in my head. No matter what his flaws are, he’s not one to abandon
his team even in the smallest of ways. Damian would fight for each one of us.
When I get in my room, I sit on the bed and realize I am exhausted. I could just lie down, close
my eyes and get to dreamland right away. It could go the wrong way, of course, and I could end up in
nightmare land.
I take off my boots, put my feet on the bed and lean back against the soft headboard. I’ve never
even seen a bed like that, let alone sleep in it. The candles smell of vanilla and cinnamon. I want to take everything in before I doze off. I get up and sit at the desk chair. I find a pen and a notebook in the drawer and write down my name and a sentence. Freya has been here.
I take off my jacket and hang it on the back of the chair. I discover a small mirror behind a flask
and a couple dishes. I hold it in front of me and take a long look at my face. My lips are chapped and there are dark circles forming under my eyes. My hair is a mess, unruly and frizzy with small twigs
and other things I can’t identify stuck in it. I take out my brush and eye the clean shirt and pants at the foot of the bed. Then there’s a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” I ask startled.
“Finn.”
I half-open the door and stick my neck out. “Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Yes, I guess so. This place is terribly quiet. It’s driving me nuts.”
I know what he means. In the forest, it’s never really quiet. Life doesn’t pause for a second.
There’s chirping and rustling and cooing on a constant basis, even in the
middle of the night.
“Won’t you let me in?” Finn says while pushing the door gently to open it further. I push back.
“We need to talk, remember?” he insists.
So, he hasn’t forgotten. Whatever it is that he wants to tell me is of great importance to him.
“Not now, Finn. I’m beat.”
He doesn’t even try to hide the disappointment in his voice. “Tomorrow then,” he says and
returns to the room across from mine.
I have a really nervous feeling about this and any chance of me getting some rest flies out the
window. My mind is on overload. I have no idea how much longer I will be able to put him off. I
have no idea why I even want to.
9
We leave the cave with the tables where we snacked and cross the long hallway to get to the
big iron gate at the end. Wudak unlocks it and leads the way into a pitch black area. When he lights
the torches that hang from various hooks on the walls, the vastness of what I see leaves me breathless.
There are all kinds of weapons laid out on two long tables on each side of the huge room. There
are two simulation pods and a fenced in ring. This is a training cavern.
“We designed it for you,” Wudak says. “We can change it to fit your needs. Just tell me what you
want and we’ll do it.”
This is no joke. Wudak and his rebel Sliman will do as I say. I realize that now. Wudak has
repeated it on a number of occasions but this is the first time I actually come to believe it. I have an army of my own. A dark army for a brighter future.
I let my fingers run over the array of guns and weapons on the tables. My hands feel impatient. I
want to get in the simulators. I want to target practice. I want to fight.
Wudak reads my mind. “You should concentrate on the receptor,” he says. “There’s nothing
more powerful or more demanding on the planet. It could destroy everything, including you. You have
to learn to control it.”
“I’m ready. I will do as you say.”
“I am pleased,” he says. I swear I see something that resembles a smile on his face. I
instinctively reach out to pat him on the shoulder but he recoils as if a snake had just climbed on him.
“I’m sorry,” I say wishing I’d be less impulsive sometimes.
“It is I who am sorry,” Wudak says. “Nobody has ever touched me before. Not unless they
intended to harm me.”
I nod and take the sensory receptor out of my pocket. Wudak narrows his eyes. “Such a small
thing,” he says, “yet so devastating.”
“It can also be used for good,” I say. “I know it. I’ve seen it. It made Daphne’s passing
peaceful.”
Wudak’s glance is questioning but also respectful.
“Daphne was my friend,” I say. “She died during the fight against the aliens.”
“The receptor’s energy can be used to heal physical and emotional wounds,” he says. “It can
also produce energy to be converted into electricity and fuel. But there’s no time to teach you all that.
You will probably figure it out on your own over time. Now you must learn to fight. And win.”
He bows and I do the same. I don’t know why. It seems like the appropriate thing to do. Wudak
walks to the other side of the room.
“Just know that I will protect you with my life,” he says and within a split second he charges at
me with a magnetic knife in his hand.
I barely have time to think. Those knives never miss their target. They are drawn to bones and
cartilage like moths to a flame. Once they enter your body, they fuse with the bones and cannot be
retrieved. Only a surgeon can remove them without destroying the surrounding bones, nerves and
tissues.
I have a couple seconds to process all this and react. The receptor starts flashing and Wudak is
lifted off the ground and thrown against the wall.
“Good,” he says as he hoists himself up. “You have some skill already.”
“What did you think? That you’d have to train a helpless little girl?” I say feeling my adrenaline
rising at the prospect of more sparring with Wudak.
“I didn’t think anything,” he says. “But you are right. You are a little girl.”
He’s right in the strict sense of the word. I am small but I have been training and fighting all my
life and I am a lot stronger than I look. And I’ll be turning eighteen soon. I won’t be a girl for long.
In a moment, Wudak swerves his body and hits me on the stomach with his elbow knocking the
wind out of me. I try to say something but I find myself unable to speak. I fall to my knees.
“You have to stay focused,” he says. “That is your biggest weakness. You get too pleased too
soon. My guess is you get too sad too soon also. Like right now?”
“Get lost, Wudak,” I manage to say as I struggle to get back up on my feet.
“You’re becoming angry. Now we might be getting somewhere,” he says. “Never be pleased
with yourself. That’s my first lesson to you. Complacency will kill you as surely as a magnetic knife.”
“Your lessons carry bruises,” I say. “At least you mean well.” Before I’m even done speaking I
find my back against the wall with Wudak’s forearm pressing my throat.
“Lesson number two. Never trust a Sliman,” he says as he gradually releases the pressure on my
throat. “Not unless they’re under my command,” he adds sarcastically.
I rub my throat with my left hand. My right hand starts to itch with the desire to use the receptor
against him. I don’t want to hurt him but he seems to have no problem hurting me. Maybe that’s
another lesson he’s trying to impress on me. There’s no room for sensitivities.
“The sensory receptor must become a part of you,” he says as he picks up a pulse gun. “It’s not
good enough that you know how to use it in an emergency or when you get angry or scared. It’s not
good enough that you know how to connect to it or how to send your brainwave messages down your
arm. It’s not good enough that you know about all the things you can do with it, whether it is to attack or to defend.”
“What is good enough then?” I say exasperated.
“You become it and it becomes you. It responds to your dreams when you sleep. It does what
you order it to do even when you have no physical contact with it. It becomes second nature, like
walking or running. That’s what’s good enough.”
I smile. “You must be out of your mind.”
“Give it to me,” he says extending his hand.
“No,” I say firmly.
“Freya, give me the receptor.”
I close my eyes for an instant and when I open them again, I have decided to trust him. I hand
over the receptor. It’s not like he can use it anyway.
He takes the receptor from me and at the same time puts the gun he’s holding to my head. “What
are you going to do now?” he says.
“I think I’ve had enough of your tricks for one day,” I say but I know that this will have no effect
on him. He’s got a mission and I might as well accept it. I know what he wants from me.
I block out all thoughts and concentrate my being on one single point: the sensory receptor in
Wudak’s hand. My temple starts throbbing right at the spot where I feel the cold barrel of the pulse
gun. My ears start ringing and my eyes get teary but I won’t give in. I turn off my vision and my
hearing, I repeat a single word, power, again and again. Then I fee
l a jolt go through my spine and I know I’ve made the connection.
Wudak drops the receptor and I see a raw red round mark across the palm of his hand. A burn
mark.
“That’s the spirit,” he says as he spits on his palm. “Now try and pick the receptor up without
touching it.”
The very idea of going through this mental hell again puts me off. I don’t have enough strength
left in me. I take Wudak’s hand to look at the wound but he pulls away immediately. I have to
remember that he doesn’t like to be touched.
“This will need some cleaning and bandaging,” I say.
“I will have it taken care of, no need for you to worry,” he says.
“I think I’m done for the time being. I didn’t sleep very well and I don’t feel like myself. Too
much happening at the same time.”
“I understand, but you cannot forget. Time is running out.”
He walks me back to the hallway. Even from down here I can see that Finn is sitting on the floor
outside my room. So can Wudak.
“Your friend is impulsive and has a lot to learn, but his heart is in the right place,” Wudak
whispers.
“You talk as if you know everything about the human soul,” I scold him, “even though you
yourself admitted to not understanding us all that well.”
“I might not understand the complexity of your emotions, but I do see through your intentions and
reasoning,” he says as he walks away.
I pause in front of Finn. He looks up from his touchpad and greets me with a smile. I can’t turn
him away, not this time. And even though I feel more tired than ever, using it as an excuse again will only make him suspicious.
I open my door and invite him in. “Where’s everyone?” I ask.
“Visiting what the Sliman call the Labs.”
“The Labs? Where’s that?”
“There’s a gate between doors 14 and 16. Barely noticeable if you don’t know it’s there,” he
says as he sits down on the bed.
“Why didn’t you go?” I ask but I know the answer.
“You know I’ve been wanting to talk to you, Tick.”
There we go. I cannot say what it is exactly that I fear about what he has to say. This is Finn
after all. We can talk about everything. What I do know is that I feel terribly guilty.
[scifan] plantation - books one to three Page 20
