Lower Earth Rising Collection, Books 1-3: A Dystopian Contemporary Fantasy

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Lower Earth Rising Collection, Books 1-3: A Dystopian Contemporary Fantasy Page 65

by Eden Wolfe


  “You did well to come,” the vision spoke to her again, the sound dancing on the wind until it reached her, like in a dream. “Now go home. Speak of what you have seen here, and of the gifts the settlers will give you through the Queen’s hand. But never, ever come again.”

  9

  Leadon

  Leadon looked over the boats, the water reflecting the deep brown of the varnished wood. Mist from the waves rose on the breeze, gently landing on her cheek. A shiver ran across her skin. The freshness of it woke her to the tinkling sounds of the masts and sails.

  Ship construction was advancing just as she’d hoped. At last, the seafaring skills of the Ganese would again bring them their rightful status in Lower Earth.

  Although Leadon hadn’t traveled outside of Gana in a year, she was confident that no other community in Lower Earth could match their water-savvy ways. It had been the gift their ancestors had given them. It was what had given rise to their superiority all those generations ago. And Leadon was determined that she would be the one to again make their ways known as the strongest water power. She knew life on Earth was more than Lower Earth and Upper Earth. She just knew it.

  The old ships remained, but their state was perilous. She had sent off all of the good ships the previous year. She had no regrets about that; it was what had to be done. Those Ganese who left with the boats would be maintaining them as best they could. Now it was Leadon’s job to rebuild the fleet.

  She hadn’t expected to receive word of Rose’s arrival with the thousands; she knew they had to make their own way. Two weeks travel at least to get to the place with favorable currents.

  She stood tall into the midday sun, long black braids reaching down to the middle of her back. There had been a time not so long ago that Leadon had thought herself unworthy of the title of chief.

  No more.

  Now she knew her place. And it was both in front of and behind her people. Leading them and supporting them as they moved forward. The bobbing boats affirmed her choice.

  The harmony sung by the masts was like a lullaby; Leadon closed her eyes and let the wet breeze land on her face. When she opened them, the horizon stretched before her like the world went on forever. Like there weren’t generations of death beyond her sights. Like it was possible the world of the old days continued. She allowed herself to be consumed in the vision, a peace rolling over her that she hadn’t felt in so long. Years. Since before Rose had appeared on her doorstep. Since before she had been declared chief.

  “Leadon...”

  She turned. Priyantha would not interrupt her for something trivial. She could see darkness across the woman’s face. What peace she’d felt lifted and flew off into the sky like a crow.

  “I didn’t want to have to come, but I was sure you’d rather know sooner than later.”

  “What is it?”

  “Daphna.”

  “What about her?”

  “She’s here.”

  “She’s what?”

  “Waiting in your hut.”

  Leadon blinked at Priyantha. And then she broke into a run.

  Is there something wrong with the incubates? The carers? Does she have word about Rose? Why else would she be here?

  Leadon’s long legs took her from beach to forest to plain, back to the village.

  She yanked open the fur covering her hut’s entrance and rushed in. Daphna stood from the stool where she’d been sitting. Without a second thought, Leadon embraced Daphna, though she was hardly more than half her size, enveloping her as an old friend.

  “It is good to see you, Leadon. But you must hear what I have to say.”

  Leadon let the woman go, gesturing for her to sit. She pulled over another stool. “It is so good to see you, but I also know that if you have come yourself it means that you do not have good news to share.”

  “You are correct.”

  “Tell me everything.”

  Daphna took in a big breath. “It’s not what you think.”

  Leadon listened intently to the small woman who must have passed fifty years. In fact, she was of average height, Leadon knew. Still, she seemed frailer than most. Small proportions in her shoulders, her facial features, even her fingers. She had clearly been designed for a different purpose than the warrior priestesses, though the warrior priestess DNA was pure. There was no design imposed, they had their gene specialists to be sure of that.

  Daphna didn’t waste any time. Her words were direct and without ceremony. It had been long since Leadon had interacted with anyone from outside Gana; she had to adjust her hearing, recognizing that each word was significant in itself and not an allegory or reference to the ancestors.

  “And you believe this came from Central Tower?” Leadon was trying to keep the pieces straight. An illness that was accelerating in the Sisters, unnatural, origins unknown. Seemingly the same that the Ganese had been accused of spreading, though the Ganese of course had done no such thing.

  “I can’t say for sure,” Daphna continued, “But it has the hallmarks of a virus that was bred in containment. Remember that was once my own territory when I worked in Central Tower myself.”

  “I couldn’t forget an important detail like that.”

  There had been times when Leadon had wondered if Daphna’s loyalty was split, given that she had been a researcher in Central Tower herself before supposedly abandoning her post to join the Sisters. But now Leadon had no doubt. They had lived through too much together for Leadon to doubt Daphna ever again.

  “The thing is that a virus like this shouldn’t have taken the path it has. There was a sick woman - one - and she then improved. And then she was sick again, and then she was gone.”

  “Dead?”

  “No. Disappeared.”

  “A Sister disappeared?”

  “It’s rare, but it happens. After all, just look at our history. I don’t have to tell you that Sahna was a Ganese.”

  Hearing the name of the former warrior priestess, turned Commandante of the Queen, turned traitor of the Queen having left Geb and set up her own sect in West Strangelands... the name evoked much in Leadon as it did across Gana.

  Sahna, too, was eventually disappeared. No one knew why, and no one could say for certain who had done it, but when someone like Sahna disappeared, all signs point toward the Queen.

  Leadon felt a shiver down her spine.

  “And now? Why have you come here, Daphna?”

  “I appear to be immune, as do some other Sisters. I don’t yet know why. But I’m going to find out. I’ve set up additional labs in West Strangelands and am gathering the materials, but too slowly. I don’t want anyone in Geb to know, so I have to gather them on the sly. But it has been my arms that held those who were dying and still there’s no sign that I have been contagious, at least not based on the tracing we’ve conducted within the community.”

  Leadon struggled to follow. Daphna sat back in her seat.

  “I know this isn’t your area of specialty. In short, it’s safe for me to come, it seems I cannot infect you, but we can’t say that for many of the other Sisters. And I wanted to come myself. I had to see if you - if Gana - had been touched by this illness yet.”

  “No, and from the sounds of it, we should be grateful for that.”

  “Not just grateful, Leadon, you have to take steps to protect yourself. You have to impose measures so that this doesn’t reach you.”

  “But if it’s only in the Sisters...”

  “We don’t know if it has gone anywhere else. The Dark Counties are unknown territory and the prefect there will report us immediately if we travel there. Even if the Sisters have no genetic homogeny, we stand out in the Dark Counties. My point, Leadon, is that there’s nothing to stop the illness coming to you. Now that I know it isn’t here yet, please, Leadon, listen to this warning. You don’t want it here.”

  Daphna stood, Leadon followed her.

  “I’ll go now,” Daphna lifted her satchel. “It was good to see you, Leadon. I w
ish it had been under different circumstances. But I am relieved to know this illness hasn’t come for you yet.”

  “You’ve just arrived. You must at least spend the night. Rest.”

  “I cannot. I need to keep working on this. But I fear I’ll never have the right equipment in the West Strangelands for it. Geb might be our only answer. And if so, I fear we are doomed.” Daphna looked off, eyes ticking and Leadon watched her thinking.

  Leadon thought for a moment, an idea forming. “If that is the case, then you need a different strategy.”

  Daphna looked at Leadon.

  “We may not come from a scientific people,” Leadon continued, “But we have negotiated with different peoples across the history of the world. If you can’t solve this, and you need Geb, then all you have to do is have something they need in exchange.”

  Daphna nodded slowly. “Yes, yes.”

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  They reached the gate into Gana. Leadon opened it and waited for a moment. “I wish you the wisdom of the ancestors. They already see your suffering.”

  Daphna cocked her head. “You know, the Ganese speak of the ancestors the way the others speak of the settlers.”

  Leadon nodded, “The settlers are someone’s ancestors, after all. Just not ours.”

  Daphna gave a small smile and then turned to look out to the plains as her mule was brought over. She narrowed her eyes.

  “If I didn’t know that I was standing beside you now, Leadon, I could swear that I see you just across the field here.”

  Leadon’s stomach dropped. They both knew what that meant.

  Leadon’s genetic double was on her way. Leadon couldn’t guess why, after what they’d lived together two years ago. Why would Irene come now?

  “I think I will stay the night,” Daphna’s eyes didn’t budge from the image of Irene in the distance.

  Leadon nodded. “I could have guessed you would.”

  “Please sit, Irilena.” Leadon gestured for Irene to sit on one of the stools around the small fire in her hut.

  Irene pursed her lips. “You also insist on calling me by my old name? I suppose you’re not so different from the previous chiefs after all.”

  “It is your name.”

  “Not one that I can use.”

  “But still it is yours. Now, Irene,” she emphasized. “You can imagine we are more than surprised to see you here. But before we jump into it, please, let me say...” Leadon crouched before Irene and put her hand on her shoulder. “It is good to see you.”

  Irene lifted her hand to Leadon’s shoulder and they assumed the position of the warrior priestesses of old, squeezing each other’s shoulders and gently shaking the other. They stayed in that traditional embrace for longer than Leadon had planned, and she found a feeling rising in her throat. Memories of all they’d lived with the incubates flooded in. She’d tried so hard to push those thoughts aside.

  They released their embrace; Daphna remained in the corner, watching. She’d likely never seen the Ganese embrace before. Leadon gestured for her to come sit.

  “Do you have word from the island?” Irene’s voice cracked. Leadon saw that she, too, was full of emotion.

  “None,” Leadon sat. “But we weren’t expecting any.”

  “I know. I had just been hoping to hear.”

  “If anything, if we’d received word, I imagine it would not have been good news.”

  “True. True.” Irene looked off, her eyes glazed. “You saw them go?”

  “We both did,” Leadon nodded to Daphna.

  Irene turned, seemingly forgetting that Daphna was still there. “Yes, of course. We were lucky to have the skill of the Sisters.”

  “And our ability to blend,” Daphna spoke. “There’s no way any Ganese could have gone into that camp and not been recognized immediately.”

  “You took a risk.”

  Daphna shook her head, “No more than I’d hoped others would take for us.” She paused, “And in fact, I think the time when I may need to ask support has come. I’ve already told Leadon about the illness among the Sisters, and surely the news has reached you in the fortress, Irene.”

  “It has.”

  Daphna leaned forward. “What is the Queen’s reaction?”

  “It’s the reason why I have come to Gana.”

  Leadon and Daphna exchanged a glance. It didn’t make sense. Irene must have read it on their faces. She continued.

  “I did not expect to see you here, Daphna. I know how the Sisters feel about me already. Let’s not revisit those days.”

  “Don’t think I carry their grudges. I’ve seen what’s in your heart.”

  “Still. Ever since Sahna...” Irene trailed off. She shook her head to bring herself back into the present moment. “I can’t say with certainty, but we know that Queen Ariane believes an uprising is coming. She’ll want to quash any sense of revolution before it begins.”

  She stopped. Leadon’s heart was beating between her ears.

  Irene pulled her spine taller, “I think she means to harm the Sisters, if not end the sect altogether.”

  Leadon snapped her head to Daphna, who was nodding slowly from her place on the stool.

  “This doesn’t surprise me in the least. In fact, I believe she’s the one responsible for the illness.”

  “The Queen?” Irene shook her head. “She doesn’t have that kind of knowledge nor skill. She’s not like the others were. She’s too much like her mother. Her predisposition is to leadership, not science.”

  “All the more reason it has been inefficient and long-acting.”

  “I do not believe it so, but even I can’t be sure. Still, is there any truth in her belief that revolt is brewing among the Sisters? If I go back and say that you are all peaceful and joyous even in the face of the illness, she will not believe me.”

  Daphna looked off. “There are always among the Sisters those who wish to revolt. Those who have seen violence, whether it be in Geb or one of the outer counties, and believe that violence begets violence. That we should respond in kind to the violence acted upon us.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “There is a time when violence has a place. I’m not sure that place is now. Not the least because I believe we would fail. In our current position, we need a different approach. And I believe I know what it is now, thanks to Leadon.”

  “Me?” Leadon cocked her head.

  “You spoke of negotiation. All I have to do is find something they want more than resolving our illness and offer it in return. And I think I know what it is.”

  “Elgin?” Irene asked.

  “Elgin,” Daphna nodded. “I can break Elgin, I’m sure of it. It’s a basic strain with mild variations. And we’ve sufficiently overcome it in the West Strangelands, though we were never the most vulnerable location. It’s Geb that will suffer if Elgin makes it all the way there, and I’d hazard that both the Queen and Central Tower know it.”

  “Yes. Resolving Elgin would take you far. Uma has been struggling with it for months, even years.”

  “Uma was always too arrogant for her own good.” Daphna’s eyes narrowed. “I remember the way she would saunter through the Tower on her ‘Review Day’, as though she was beyond reproach. The ultimate overseer.” She shook her head. “You know, when I imagine the men of the old code, in the days before the Mist, I imagine they were something like Uma.” She gathered her satchel and coat. With that, I’d better be going. If I’m to find the treatment for Elgin before all the Sisters in my charge have died from this illness, then there is no time to waste.” She looked up at Leadon and Irene.

  “Exact images of each other with only the years to tell you apart. Do you ever get used to that?”

  Leadon and Irene looked at each other.

  “No,” they both said in perfect unison.

  10

  Trudith

  Trudith wove her way through the alleys of Cork Town as the sun rose. It was the best time to be out or else
she risked falling into an unexpected checkpoint. At this hour, she wasn’t afraid. There were fewer now around the commune. Fewer checkpoints, fewer security sweeps. Fewer raids.

  Fewer people.

  It had been two years since the roundup had slashed the Cork Town population by at least a third. Trudith couldn’t believe how time moved both fast and slow. Like being stuck in a revolving door where she got older but the world never changed. And yet it did. Two years. Two years since the commune population included only strong women, all under age sixty. So few men left. Trudith could only name a couple in the whole commune. They had never been numerous, one in ten at best, but now Trudith could go whole weeks without ever having a man cross her path.

  It was hot as she walked. The summer was creeping in and it gave every sign of being a scorching one. The sun had barely lifted above the horizon and already she had to wipe a layer of sweat from her forehead as she reached Cork Row.

  There was no market set up on Cork Row. It was once every two weeks now instead of twice a week. They had to stock up provisions when they were available, rely on grains. The situation was only getting worse, and even more so since the stomach illness had come into the water. It was curable; certainly many people survived it. But they had to first go through a whole lot of suffering and even then - there were those who didn’t make it.

  The opies had been particularly hard hit. Something about weakened immune systems.

  Trudith cursed her own thoughts, for she didn’t miss the opies at all. The drug had been pervasive across the commune. Sending women into stupidity; vacant, mute blobs of what used to be women. They’d congregate on street corners and hide in alleys where they’d shoot up and sit for hours. Ten years earlier, the opies had been everywhere - those who dealt and those who took. But times were changing quickly.

 

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