Human

by C R MacFarlane

  Gal looked up. How much did Aaron know?

  Aaron laughed. “I know everything. I’m in your head. But the real Aaron never knew, and it helps to have him to explain it to, isn’t it? Or else how would you keep it all straight in your own head?”

  Resignedly Gal admitted, “It was the first time anyone had ever told me they didn’t believe in the Gods or the Speakers. The first time I’d ever thought a person could question it.”

  Rayne turned her gaze on him, her voice cutting, “The Speakers tell us the Will of the Gods.”

  He stared in shock at her, at her beautiful face. At least she was talking to him.

  Aaron still loomed.

  “You’ve been here before,” Aaron confirmed. “In a secret village in the woods.”

  Gal nodded his assent.

  “Why are they really here? The Speakers would never allow this.” Aaron gestured to the Uruhu.

  Gal shut his eyes. He couldn’t answer out loud. Rayne was already staring at him. Not that he could really answer anyway — how had they escaped annihilation when so many others had succumbed?

  He scanned her again, now that she’d gone back to picking at the bread. Beautiful and dark. The light brought out the richness in her skin in a way the artificial ship lighting never could, in a way he almost didn’t remember.

  He smiled in spite of the situation.

  “Gal?”

  “What?” he snapped, spinning his head around. Aaron was gone. In his place stood Grant, the gruff one who had an implant in his back that would give him a protective second skin at a moment's notice. He had a burn mark by his eye, the only trauma he’d suffered while Kieran, his engineer, had been burned to a crisp.

  Rayne would never forgive him. Not for the part that he’d played in the ship explosion. Definitely not for the part that he’d inadvertently made her play.

  “You have some pull with these people.”

  Gal squirmed. That wasn’t quite true.

  Grant continued anyway, his voice quick, frustrated. “I can make an explosive with some of the items I see in the village. If you can get them to bring them to us without them realizing what I’m building, I might be able to get us out of here.”

  Gal raised his eyebrows. He looked at Rayne, who still sat curled up against the wall, her expression dismal. “Do you think it will blow through the bars?” He’d watched while the Augments took turns first pulling on the wooden bars, and then trying to cut through them with a sharp rock — all to no avail.

  Grant glanced behind him at the dark wood coated in layers of strong sap. “It’s the best option we have,” he shrugged.

  “A bomb, Gal?” a second voice caught his ear. Aaron had reappeared.

  Things died in explosions: Aaron, Cornelius, Kieran nearly, heck, even Earth died in an explosion.

  But they couldn’t stay. Ruel had told him that, when she’d muttered sweet, hopeful things into his ear.

  The Uruhu had planned to kill him when he had come before. Ruel had said he was worth trusting, and so he got to live. But they had told him what would happen if he ever returned.

  The Uruhu had a secret — no one knew they were out here — and they wanted to keep it that way. They were warriors. They had no qualms about killing to suit their needs.

  He nodded once at Grant. “What do you need?”

  * * *

  “Hey, Urubane.” Gal’s heart beat quickly in his chest as he called to the man.

  The tall warrior stepped up to the side of the cage.

  “Is this really necessary?” Gal gestured at the cage around them. “You know me. I mean, Ruel said —.”

  “You were told never to return.”

  “I know, I know.” He held up his hands. “I swear to you it was an accident. I had forgotten all about you and your secret life here. Otherwise I wouldn’t have come in through the forest. It’s just that we didn’t want anyone to see us coming.”

  Urubane lifted a single eyebrow. It made his eyes dance, and Gal realized with a start they were each two different colours, split down the middle: blue and white. How long had they been separated from the rest of the population? Genetics had done some odd things in that time.

  “You would not forget.”

  Gal gulped. No, how would anyone forget the simple little fact there was a group of people living with their own rules inside the forest preserve.

  “Say, I’m curious what that is.” Gal pointed to a nearby jug, forcing his voice to stay relaxed even while his heart threatened to jump out of his skin. The warriors would take turns going to the jug and rubbing some of the liquid on their lips and their hands. Some kind of oil, Grant guessed.

  “The firewater is not for your kind.”

  “But what is it? I just want to know.”

  Urubane grunted and turned away.

  Gal stepped back from the bars.

  He caught Rayne staring at him, an unreadable expression of disappointment on her face. She shook her head and turned away.

  He reached up and tugged on his hair. At least he was trying. He might have gotten them into this mess, but at least he was trying to help get them out of it.

  “You plot something,” Urubane said. His voice booming so all the other guards could hear. He was warning them.

  Gal hung his head.

  Urubane turned back to face him. “Do not insult me so, Galiant Idim.”

  Suddenly, Urubane pushed back from the bars, looking up. “What is this?” he hissed.

  It took Gal a minute to hear it: the thumping of a hovercraft, and looked into the sky. They would be nearly overhead — it was the only place you could hear the whump-whump of the otherwise silent machines.

  Urubane yelled. “You have brought the great burning beast with you,” he shouted at Gal before running away. “Ruel was wrong, you have come to destroy us.”

  The centre square was in motion, guards running back and forth, ushering women and children into the small huts. At the same time, Gal felt and saw the thin white gas being dropped from the hovercraft. It spilled out, starting on the edge of the village. They pulled out cloths and tied them over their faces, disappearing into the huts and slamming the doors.

  The mist settled upon Gal’s skin, cool and wet, like water. His breathing felt heavy, but clean, not unlike after a rainstorm on Earth. “It’s okay,” he shouted out. “Hey,” he bounced to his feet and called out after the retreating Uruhu. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s protective for the forest preserve,” Rayne shouted beside him. “It’s safe.”

  Gal shared a look, and for a second they were a team again, until she turned away.

  He ran a hand through his damp hair. What could he ever say to her?

  Sarrin coughed.

  He turned.

  The Augment was on her knees.

  Grant ran to her, his lungs chortling as he went.

  The others too winced and started to cough, softly at first but building.

  Gal frowned. It was common knowledge that the Army sprayed the forest once a month, a mix of minerals and water to keep it healthy. It was safe.

  Rayne, for the second time, met his gaze, as equally uncertain as his own. But she didn’t cough.

  Grant’s limpet suit sprung out of his body, enveloping him.

  Gal took another deep breath, but a tickle caught in his throat. Maybe the gas wasn’t benign after all. He pulled his shirt-neck over his mouth and nose.

  Sarrin’s skin had gone pink. She dropped to the ground as the first blister began to show, more boiling up all over her body. Her eyes sprung open and she inhaled sharply — painfully. She coughed again, blood and sputum splashing on the ground.

  Gal stood. Something in the mist was hurting them specifically, whether because of their metabolism or their physiology. “Hey!” he shouted out. Who knew how bad it would get. He threw his shoulder into the door of the cage.

  Grant had a hand on Sarrin. His suit seemed to protect him, but the others had all started to bubble too
.

  “Help me with this,” Gal shouted.

  Grant took a second to look over — the exposed skin around his eye was freshly red and blistered — but he nodded and came to help. Together they rammed the door.

  Rayne pulled strips of cloth from her old uniform and tied them across the Augments’ mouths and noses, the same as Urubane and his warriors had done. She tied a strip across her own mouth.

  The coughing didn’t stop.

  She looked over helpless at Gal.

  “Hey!” he tried calling out again. “Please.”

  The door to one of the huts opened and shut quickly. From it slipped Ruel, limping as she did on her walking stick. Her pendant swung wildly ahead of her. Her skin flared red, but she persevered, slow and determined. She reached the door, somehow moving the massive brace aside.

  The cage swung open.

  “I’ve waited a long time for your return,” she croaked, her pendant swinging wildly.

  The Augments pushed through, Grant and Rayne dragging Sarrin.

  Ruel snatched the pendant out of the air and held it to her chest. “Now my turn is done and it falls to you. You will return, and they will see,” she said. “Now, go.”

  Gal stumbled forward, running with the others to the edge of the village. He owed his life, their lives, to Ruel. Again.

  He looked back. She was still in the centre of the village, holding her pendant, her walking staff raised high in the air. Her skin had blistered until it was all white with cracked red lines. She muttered something, thumping her chest.

  With one last beat, she met his gaze, her unnatural blue-white crystal eyes burning into him. Suddenly, she collapsed, falling to the ground. Her staff rolled away across the dirt, the pendant falling lifelessly, just like its owner.

  * * *

  Sarrin’s own breathing rattled around in her ears deafeningly. Ahead of her, Grant called out, but she couldn’t hear over her own wheezing and the high-pitched ringing in her head. Her skin was on fire.

  Rayne kept looking back at her, frowning. Sarrin knew she had to go on — she had fallen too far back already; in Evangecore, she would have been shot — but she couldn’t, not anymore.

  She paused, resting her hand against a tree. Her hands were red and oozing, probably just as badly as her face, but she couldn’t feel it in the cold, dead, nerveless things.

  Ahead, the others stopped at a wire fence, nearly thirty metres tall. Grant stopped, bending down, and Luca stepped smoothly into his clasped hands as he boosted her up. She flew into the air, clinging partway up the fence.

  They were at the edge of the forest.

  Somehow that milestone bolstered her for an instant and she stumbled forward.

  Grant was still covered in his mottled grey-brown limpet suit, only the one eye exposed. With a gulp, Sarrin remembered when she had agreed to spar, lost control, and ripped the suit apart. “Sarrin, let me help you.” He bent down again, his fingers interlaced for her to step into.

  She felt sick as she stepped up, relying on the rote memory of hours of practice drills in Evangecore, and flew into the air. Her body moved automatically, catching then climbing.

  Something tugged her hand, breaking the automatic rhythm. She paused, looking down. The nerveless, ulcerated skin had caught on part of the wire fence and ripped. Beneath the rent, she saw a flash of silver. She nearly lost her grip, but the good hand latched on, keeping her from falling.

  Rounding the top, she let herself half-jump half-fall down the other side, too tired to climb. The landing set off a new round of coughing. For a minute, she knew nothing but the cough. When she came to, she was on her hands and knees.

  “Sarrin?” Rayne’s worried face appeared before her, her dark skin blending in with the growing dusk. Her eyes turned from Sarrin’s face to her hands, and she rushed to cover the tear and the horrible silver skeleton.

  Rayne’s pupils were dilated fully in the dim light, but the tension around the eyes showed her true panic. “Second degree chemical burns. We need to wash them and dress them immediately.” She glanced around behind her. “We’ll get there soon. Can you keep moving?”

  Sarrin nodded. She could keep moving, even if she’d prefer to curl into the fetal position and wait for the inevitable, such a thing would never be tolerated in Evangecore.

  “Come on.” Rayne extended a hand.

  Sarrin looked at it, but shook her head. What would happen if Sarrin were to touch Rayne in this state? A memory of Nurse Adelaide collapsing to the ground, dead, turned her stomach.

  She pushed herself back onto her feet. And her feet miraculously continued forward.

  There were no trees on this side, only bare shrubs and sparse grass that had managed to push its way through the con-plas slabs that lined the ground. It immediately felt hot and dusty, even in the descending night.

  “Why is it fenced?” Alex’s voice drifted back. At least her ears were getting clearer.

  Gal grunted in response. “To keep the folk out, and the trees in.”

  “But isn’t the forest meant to be a reminder?” asked Alex. “To keep us in touch with Earth?”

  Sarrin stumbled, falling to the ground. Her breathing was hard and she fought to catch her breath.

  Grant appeared, reaching out to grab her arm.

  “Don’t,” she managed.

  He pulled back. “Let me help you.”

  She could only shake her head.

  “You look terrible,” he said. “I don’t understand.” He reached for her again.

  She flinched away.

  “This is bad, Sarrin.” His hand ran nervously across the top of his ugly limpet suit, and he flinched as though he’d forgotten it was there, recoiling from the slick feel where his sandy hair should have been.

  “You can barely walk. Let me help you.” He reached out again. “Alex and Luca, they’ve got a cough, and my eye hurts like crazy, but you….” He shook his head.

  “They’ve built weapons against me before,” she said, forcing it all out in one breath and fighting for oxygen after.

  “You think that nasty fertilizer-spray was designed against you.” He pointed back in the direction of the forest.

  The fence, she noted abjectly, couldn’t be more than fifty yards behind.

  “You’re cracked. Gal thinks it’s because our metabolisms are faster. And yours is faster than most, if I remember.”

  That was true. She’d been infected young, very young. That made everything the virus did more significant in her. It was why they chased her.

  “They’ve got no way to know we’re here. Unless they find your corpse out here on the concrete.” He reached his arm out again.

  She nodded and took it.

  The slimy, slick skin under her fingers started to move and bulge.

  “Whoa. It’s never done that before,” said Grant, staring down at his arm. “Ow.”

  Sarrin snatched her hand back. Stupid. She’d been distracted thinking about the UECs and weapons and metabolisms. She’d forgotten the biggest change the virus had made to her system: she could kill people with a touch.

  “Don’t touch me,” she growled.

  Grant stared down at his limpet-covered hand. Then at her. Then at the hand. Slowly, he reached out, testing. He pulled back with a yelp when the suit told him he had gotten too close.

  “Sarrin…?”

  She could do nothing but stare up at him and hope he didn’t guess what a monster she truly was.

  He sighed. “Come on, we have to keep moving.”

  She stared at her hands as she walked. The tear in the one kept flapping open, revealing a glimpse of the silver skeleton.

  She wasn’t even human.

  Part virus. Part titanium.

  She’d killed too many people. She couldn’t even help it anymore. If Grant hadn’t been wearing his protective suit, what would have happened?

  Up ahead, Gal stayed low as he approached the first of the buildings: squat, two-story grey blocks lined up in pe
rfect rows. It had been a long time since Sarrin had seen a UEC city. But she had not forgotten the standard layout, always the same pattern, and she followed Gal and the others as they dodged from cover to cover.

  There were still a few people out on the streets. Curfew hadn’t descended on them yet, which would bring with it patrol drones and more cameras. All they had to do now was be inconspicuous enough not to raise suspicion, and not to get the attention of any of the drones.

  “Sarrin, come on,” Grant whispered, waving his arm.

  She braced against a building for a minute, drawing in breath.

  “Gods,” said Rayne, turning to Gal, “she needs oxygen, a hospital.”

  Gal pressed his lips together but shook his head. “We can’t.”

  “But my father.”

  He shook his head.

  Sarrin knew she was slowing them down. They waited in a tight little group for her to stumble up to them.

  Alex watched her with concern. He’d come because he thought she was a hero, the way she’d saved him during a training exercise in Evangecore. But she hadn’t saved anyone — they didn’t let any of the kids die in Evangecore without their saying so — she’d only damned herself.

  Some hero she had to be right now, panting and gasping her way through the city. He’d been a fool to follow her here.

  They’d all been fools.

  Gal slipped away, angling them closer to the city centre, to the tall Speakers’ tower with its smooth glassine dome raised above everything else like a beacon.

  The Gods were probably laughing at her.

  She slumped against the wall, letting her legs slide out from underneath her.

  “Sarrin, we have to go,” said Grant.

  She shook her head. Her eyes started to close. The Speakers saw everything.

  She’d had a chance to leave with Kieran on the Observer ship and escape. That was their plan anyhow. But now she was here and he was thousands of light-years away.

  It had been wishful thinking anyway, an attempt to ignore the inevitable. She was a monster, an enemy, and she was better off dead. The breathing and gasping was just another reminder that she was still, annoyingly, alive.

  She would spend her life like this, sneaking around, praying to the Gods that their Speakers wouldn’t see them — like they did now.