by Beth Reason
Chapter 5
With shaking hands he pressed the buttons on the beacon control panel over and over, desperately trying to remember the sequence Scarab had used. He had to figure it out. He could figure it out. He passed all his electronic classes with flying colors, and a simple com console wasn't about to beat him! He had to breathe, calm down, and think.
He tried again. “Invalid Operation.” And again. “Invalid Operation.” On the third try, a message flashed on the screen. “Operator Instruction, Press 7.” He could have cried he was so relieved. He scanned through the options. He wanted to check for messages, then send a new one. He scrolled through the list until he came upon and option marked “Instant Com”. Instant com. Could there be a standard com service with the grid off? If so, why had Scarab sent a message? He looked down at her, a crumpled heap at his feet, and decided it was worth a shot.
He broke the lock on her sack and removed her com. No doubt she'd be angry beyond words, but he could deal with that later. He plugged the com in, reread the instructions, and punched in the code. In a moment, there was a buzz and a voice said, “Central command, what is your emergency?”
He pressed the button on Scarab's com and said, “Help, help. Immediate assistance required.”
“What organization?”
“Uh, I guess bounty hunters.”
“We're sorry. This port is for governmental assignments only.”
“No wait!” he yelled. “Please,” his voice hovering on the edge of tears. “Please. You gotta help. We're stuck out here and every thing's happening a lot faster than it's supposed to and I don't know anything about surviving out here and the bounty hunter who nabbed me has been incapacitated and very likely about to die and...”
“Name?”
The calm voice made him take a deep breath. He almost lost it there for a minute. “Name of who? Me? Or the bounty hunter?”
“Bounty hunter.”
“Scarab. I don't remember the numbers she used after.”
“Scarab 03321?”
He almost jumped for joy! “Yes! Yes that's it!”
There was a long pause, and he was afraid he lost the connection. He was about to try again when a different voice came across, a man's voice. “This is central command. It is my understanding that you have with you a bounty hunter by the handle of Scarab 03321. Is this correct?”
“Yes.”
“And you claim her to be incapacitated?”
“Yes. See, we were attacked by wraiths...”
But the man didn't seem interested in the details. “And your name?”
A little voice deep inside screamed for him to lie, and though he had absolutely no reason to, he listened. “Carl Mcaf. I'm the son of a feed farmer, Agro League.” He knew that Carl Mcaf had safely migrated. He relied on the lack of communication between government departments for them not to realize that.
Again there was a long pause, and then the voice said, “We're sorry. We have no record of that bounty being consigned.”
He had to think fast. “Wait! Come on, now. This can't be the first unassigned bounty you've every heard of. My dad probably didn't want to file and involve the government. Now I know I screwed up and maybe I deserve what trouble I'm in.” He was laying it on thick, but at least the guy on the other end of the line didn't terminate the connection. “But this poor bounty hunter shouldn't have to pay the price for my stupidity!” The last was said with a conviction he truly felt to his core.
Again, only silence.
“Sir?”
“I'm sorry, young man. But there's nothing we can do. I suggest you find shelter and try and make it.” The click when the com terminated was deafening. Tenet couldn't believe it. He absolutely could not believe it. He got central command, part of his own government. Chances were good that he knew the operator that spoke with him. And there was nothing they could do?
The rage that built in him was a welcome emotion. Anger. Work with the anger and mask the despair. He quickly scrolled through the help options again until he found instructions for sending a message. Much to his relief, the code for the bounty hunter league was listed. He punched in the numbers, cleared his throat, and recorded his message. “Mayday or help or whatever it takes to get you people to listen. This is Tenet Bradwin, IV. I'm the bounty of hunter Scarab 033-something. We have been besieged by a herd of wraiths. Scarab is seriously injured, and I'm in no great shape myself. What did she say? Oh. Food and water supply fine. Everything else is shit. We were supposed to check for messages at a different beacon. We never made it that far. I can't tell what beacon number this is, but we're two past the last one we sent a message from, whatever that was. We were there, we passed one, and then this is the next. Uh, I think we're going northeast still, but I can't honestly say. Again, this is absolutely urgent. I will attempt to find some cover for us near here and check back if I can. Help, please. In any way you can.”
It would have to do. He hit send, then slumped to the ground. Night would be on them soon, and he had to find cover. He reached in the sack and pulled out a lump of food and some water. He removed his mask and downed them, not really feeling hungry, but knowing he needed the nourishment. After he was done with his meal, he opened Scarab's mask. He stared at her in the fading light, trying to determine how serious her injuries were. Her eyes were moving slightly under the lids, that was good. Her pulse was there, however light. He could see no blood on or around her head, but had no idea what she looked like under the suit.
He held the bottle of water to her lips and tried to get her to drink. Most of it dribbled down her chin, but some, he felt sure, got in. He wiped her face with his glove and replaced the visor. Moving his hands down the length of her suit, he looked for the tears he knew were there. When she had screamed, he turned around just in time to see a wraith completely covering her. It was a blur of shredding claws and razor teeth, and he hadn't even had a second to act. He pulled the trigger, grabbed her and ran. He didn't wait to fire another shot, and he certainly wasn't going to wait around to hunt for more. He killed, grabbed, and ran.
As his gloves ran up and down the suit, he found he was right. Several small tears were evident, but upon further investigation, he determined that most of them were only surface damage. That was fine for now. It was almost night, and if he could find another outpost, he could easily repair them. The one he was worried about, though, was right across her chest. It was a deep gash which seemed to tear right through the suit, almost slicing it in half. He carefully stuck a finger in the slice and held it up to examine in the dying light. It was slick and shiny. He swore softly to himself when his fears were confirmed. Blood.
There was no time to waste. First thing was to get out of the light of the beacon. Last night's moon was barely a sliver, which meant tonight there may be none at all. He wasn't about to be part of the buffet. Tenet secured his sack and hers around the front of him. It was a bit awkward, but he'd have to carry her on his back. He carefully propped her into a sitting position against the rock and crouched down in front of her. “I can do this,” he said, hoping hearing it would make it true. He fumbled behind him until her arms were secure in his hands and with a mighty heave, they were up.
He stumbled in the loose ash and dirt, trying to find his balance. He leaned against a rock and kept shifting until he could stand on his own. “God,” he said, almost out of breath. “For a little beetle, you're sure heavy.” He wished he had left his mask off. It was cool enough, and he'd love to wipe the annoying beads of sweat from his brow. But he had nowhere to put the mask, no other way to carry it. Oh well. He supposed he'd just have to be annoyed. With one last look at the pink sky over the horizon, he set off.
Tenet pushed through the encroaching darkness. Every step seemed harder than the last, and it was made more difficult because Scarab would slip down as he went. He was crawling at a snail's pace when he should have been running, and he knew it. The frustration was almost overwhelming. After awhile, though, he became both
resigned and determined. “I have to do this.” Step, step, step, hop up to settle Scarab, step step step... It became almost a song to him, the rhythm of walking. When the sun's last glow had faded, he felt like he'd walked miles. He turned and squinted, and could just barely make out the form of the beacon only a hundred yards back. He sighed. That's what he got for looking. Tenet resolved right there to never look back.
Because it had gotten dark, there was a new challenge. Though he had no idea what the blips were or what buttons to push, he had to at least attempt to use the little gadget. He knew in advance and had it tucked carefully in one of the tears in Scarab's suit, right on the arm he held in front of him. He giggled over his own cleverness, and with more than a little panic. If he could find something to laugh about... Carefully he bopped at the unit with his mask until it turned on. He studied the screen right in front of his face, looking for any clues as to how to use the contraption.
He stopped walking and just studied the screen. Slowly, things began to make sense. Well, on the most basic levels anyway. There were blips. Some moved. Some did not. He figured the ones that did were animals and the ones that did not where solid structures. He had no idea how to tell the distance, but there seemed to be a large unmoving blip ahead and to the left. “Leftward ho,” he told Scarab, and stumbled off in that direction.
Step, step, step, shift and hop, step step. The beat formed a little tune in his head and he found himself humming. It caught him off guard, and embarrassed him, even though there was no one around to hear. He laughed at himself for the blush he felt, and started to hum softly again. He hummed, plodded, and shifted his way across the barren wasteland towards the blip he hoped would be their savior.
Humming got boring. Walking got tiring. And if he stopped the humming, he could hear the cries from all the muscles in his body begging for him to stop. “Just a minute,” they seemed to say. “Just a little rest.” That was no good. So Tenet began talking to Scarab to keep his mind and legs moving.
“I wish I knew more about this,” he admitted, grunting when he shifted her back into place. “You're absolutely right, you know. This was really a half-cocked escapade. I'd give anything to take it all back. Rewind time and just migrate with the rest of them.” He squinted at the screen, adjusted his path slightly to avoid a small moving blip, and kept on. “Do you suppose my mother's worried? Judging by your silence, I'd take that as a yes. I never meant it to go like this. I never thought of how it would worry her or my father.” He gave a small snort. “Actually, I doubt my father's worried at all. I bet he's pissed, though! For all I know, he took the bounty out on me.”
Tenet stopped to catch his breath for a second, shifted Scarab back in place, then kept going. “No, no. It's true. I bet he did, so don't try and defend him. You don't know him. Nobody knows him but his family. How he really is. A great man, they say. A demanding man. Everything must be perfect at all times.” Tenet gave a bark of laughter then and it echoed around him. The echo sobered him a bit and he said in a quiet voice, “I know. I'll calm it down.”
Scarab wasn't answering. But as he kept talking, he could hear her words in his head. Delusions or dehydration, the sudden drain of adrenaline or the growing exhaustion. Maybe it was just that he was getting used to her, her words, her reactions. Whatever it was, in his eyes, he was having a real conversation. And he liked it. It kept his feet moving.
“Sure he's a good leader, I suppose. I don't really know any other leaders. He's been it my whole life.”
Must suck to have your dad also be the exalted Leader.
“How?”
You've got him controlling every aspect of your life.
“Not true. Not this, anyway.”
That why you really did this? A big “screw you, dad?”
“I...I guess. God, I'm really a joke.”
No. Everyone has to break away sometime.
Tenet sighed and shifted her. “Yes, but I didn't have to do it with such flair. That's me, though,” he said in a bitter voice. “That's Tenet Bradwin, IV. Always one for the dramatics.”
Oh, really.
“You don't sound surprised.”
I've been in close company with your for long enough to figure that out!
“Point.” Tenet felt a pang of guilt rise. “Uh, while we're on the subject, I'd like to apologize for our fight...”
Let it drop.
“No. I mean it. I overreacted. In fact...I'll say it. I was an ass.”
Yes you were.
“But in my defense, you were being particularly stubborn.”
I have one view of the world, you have another. In fact, you can't even say we're from the same world, for all our differences. Let it rest, alright?
“Alright,” he said, not really wanting to drop the subject. He shifted her again, and almost tripped over a rock. With a great burst of energy he didn't know he had, he managed to regain control without dropping her. He stood panting, Scarab thankfully safe still on his back. “Wow. Sorry. That was close.” With all the gashes in her suit, there was no telling what would have happened if he lost control. The hot sand would have claimed her exposed skin and... He didn't even want to think about it.
The gadget in her suit had shifted. He couldn't see much of it, but he could see that they were getting closer to the large blip, so that was alright. They were getting there. Slowly but surely.
“How do you judge distance on this thing?”
Practice.
Tenet sighed. He didn't know what he expected. “You're as unhelpful in your sleep as you are awake, do you know that?”
So I've been told.
“What's it like?”
What?
“Doing this year in and year out?”
Hard. Lonely.
He knew if she was truly answering, the words would be much different. Odds were that she wouldn't have given an response to the question at all. But for now, she could say what he thought she was really thinking. “Then why, Scarab?”
I'm doing what I know.
“People can break away.”
Where's this going, Tenet?
“You told me that I can change my future and all that. I'm telling you the same. Do you really want to be doing this the rest of your life?”
Yes.
Tenet sighed. Even in his own head he couldn't quite get her to say what he wanted. He laughed at his lack of imagination.
What is it you want me to say, Tenet?
Tenet thought for awhile. That was an important, if complicated, question. “I don't know. Maybe I want you to say that you hate this life and just can't see the way out of it. To say that you'd love to be back in the world, but people scare the hell out of you. To tell me that you're searching for that one thing that would make it possible.”
Why? Why do you feel the need to hear me say any of those things? Why can't you accept the fact that this is my life to live how I choose?
“Why this, though? Why the hell did you choose this?” A wave of frustration hit Tenet as he finally voiced the words he'd been thinking since the night in the first barn when she looked so young and innocent enjoying the simple perfection of cold water for her feet. “There's nothing wrong with you.”
And what does that mean? That anyone who picks this kind of life has to be a...a...castoff? That we're freaks?
“Yes!” he yelled, full of conviction. There. He said it. “Yes. Anyone who intentionally chooses to beat up their minds and bodies with this rough, solitary life...yes, I think there has to either be something wrong with you, or a piece of the puzzle you're not telling me. What is is, Scarab? Tell me the missing piece so I can understand why the hell you do this.”
Even in his head, she was silent. He had pissed her off so badly in their pretend conversation that his mind wouldn't even invent an answer. He cursed softly at himself for even pretending to take it to that level. “I'm sorry,” he said weakly. But she didn't answer.
Tenet sighed. Back to silence, the cadence of th
e step and shuffle the only thing in his ears once again. Off in the distance, he heard the familiar whistle of the wraiths. His heart sped for a second, but mostly from the shock of hearing it cut through the silence. A bird could have chirped and he would have had the same instant reaction. The fact that it was a wraith, or even an entire herd of wraiths, didn't bother him. He faced them and he won. He wasn't cocky about it, just resigned. They were out there. They wanted him for their dinner. But now he was confident he'd at least have a fighting chance. Besides, the whistling could barely be heard. However many there were, they were a good distance off.
He checked the UTOSS again, bumping it around with his mask until more of the screen could be seen. A swift moving blip was bearing down on them, but it was small. He wasn't going to panic. He just didn't have the energy left for it. He watched it get closer and closer until it was almost on them. He peered ahead in the darkness and tried to see whatever it was.
When it finally came into view, he laughed with relief. It was a gilla, a baby, thank goodness. No bigger than a football, it nonetheless waddled right up to his boot and gave a defiant chomp. Had he not been carrying Scarab, no doubt a flick of his boot would send the animal flying. It chomped his boot again, leaving no marks. It wouldn't have its big teeth in until it was larger than a dog. Then, it might be a different situation. For now, though, he just looked at it and actually found it almost cute, with its large eyes and stubby tail. Almost. The face was still ugly, and he had seen enough of the mature gillas to know what it would become. Still, for a lizard, it wasn't half bad.
“Go on, little one. Go before something...”
A screech shattered the silence. Before Tenet could react, a large raptor, perhaps the largest he'd seen, swooped right in front of him and snatched up the baby gilla. Just like that, it was there, then gone. Tenet knew the dark played tricks with size and scope, but he also knew he had to struggle to remain upright when the force of the wind created by the raptor's wings slammed into him. It was the first Summer raptor he'd seen, and it was far larger than any he had seen in season. Those were small, no bigger than an eagle, and tended to feed mostly on field mice. This one picked up a whole baby gilla and ate it as if it were nothing.
Tenet swallowed hard and didn't wait to see if the raptor would be back for seconds. He had no doubt that in a time of famine, he would have been the one in the beak. He said a silly little prayer, both of thanks for the gilla's impeccable timing, and the poor little critter's sacrifice. But mostly he thanked his lucky stars that his inattention hadn't once again cost them. He pushed on, his eyes darting between the screen he saw as his lifeline, and the dark haze ahead.
Thirst started to get the better of him. He wanted to keep going, because he feared if he stopped, even long enough to take a quick drink, he'd be stopping permanently. He tried to work his tongue in his mouth, tried to summon any moisture. Every step dried it out even more, until his mouth felt like the ash they walked on. Swallowing became impossible. His mouth was so dry it ached. And yet he walked. He had to get to that blip. Once he got to that blip, it would be fine. Everything would be fine. He could drink all he wanted. He could drink gallons. Hell, he might just indulge and pour the fresh water all over himself. His mind went to his favorite swimming spot, the one he and his sister, Nada, discovered in a far back corner of his land.
Thinking of Nada hurt. She was the only one he truly missed. Only a year apart in age, they were thick as thieves, two musketeers against “the man”. He wondered idly what she'd be doing at that moment. Probably sleeping, but maybe not. She was of age, after all. Maybe she was at a grand party, one of those events he hated to his core, but she lived for. He pictured her finally getting to wear that new gown he bought her the previous season when he was on a diplomatic mission with his father. It wasn't expensive, as they bought it in the Third Worlds. But the color of it, and the style...she must have looked like a princess.
He wanted to cry. What had he done to her? Would he ever see her again? He sobbed then, heaving, tearless spasms that wracked his whole body. He hadn't even wished her goodbye.
Stop your blubbering and listen.
Tenet was brought back to his senses by the nonsense in his head. His subconscious had picked up on a noise, and it used Scarab's voice to sound the alert. He sniffed and strained, listening for whatever wanted them dead this time.
He was hoping for a wraith call. Or even the screech of a hungry raptor. He didn't even care if it was bigger than the last. The one thing he didn't want to hear was a bot. Anything but a bot. He strained to make out the sound, and then groaned when he heard it clearly. Of course it was a bot. Of course! He listened to the unmistakable whir and hum and had no idea how close it was. A new blip registered on the UTOSS, but he had no idea if that was the bot, or what it was hunting. Did bots even show up on these things?
The large stationary blip he prayed was an outpost looked like it was close enough to reach...if he didn't have Scarab on his back. He swore again and almost cursed her. “I didn't mean it,” he said quickly. He pushed hard, making his steps as wide as possible while still keeping her balanced. “Come on, Scarab. Help me out here.” He pushed harder than he would have thought possible, but as the buzzing hum got louder at an alarming rate, he knew it wouldn't be enough.
In swift succession, Tenet saw two things. The first flooded him with relief. It was a darker blob in the darkness of night, but it was most definitely a structure. A square, dark shadow and he could have cried. “Almost there! Hang on, honey.” Though every muscle in his body threatened to quit, he grabbed Scarab's arm and went faster still. Not stopping to adjust her, half carrying, half dragging her as fast as he could, the dark blob started to take form. Definitely an outpost. And just within reach.
That's when the second thing came into view, a scene he doubted he would be able to forget for the rest of his life. Out of nowhere, and right near what he thought to be his saving grace, the pale glow of a wraith in night charged from behind the building. He had no time to register the danger, because almost as soon as he saw it, there was an enormous flash of light followed by a terrifying scream. Tenet blinked, stunned by the sudden brilliance that invaded his dark world. He blinked again and again, trying to figure out what had just happened, when the second flash went off. And then another, and another. He squinted in the flashing lights, trying desperately to make out what was happening. In the flashing light, he could see it. A wraith writhed in agony on the ground, and the bot hovered above, pulsing beam after beam of electricity directly into the wraith.
Tenet watched, transfixed by the scene. The bot sent wave after wave through the beast...far more than was necessary, and far longer, too. The wraith was obviously dead. It probably died after the first or second hit. Yet the bot continued. It would zap, then move slightly, and zap again. Over and over, each hovering movement more frantic. No, not more frantic, Tenet. More excited. A shiver went through his whole body as he watched the bot enjoy the kill. It was impossible. As he and Scarab had already discussed, and as he knew from his extensive schooling, there was no way the bot could “enjoy” it. It didn't possess the capabilities to feel anything.
Scarab was right. She was absolutely right. This wasn't a package delivery bot. This wasn't a harmless member of society. Hell, this wasn't even a soldier on duty, guarding against a building hoard. This bot, this twisted mass of wires and basic programming...this bot truly seem to enjoy the kill.
Tenet felt sick watching the gruesome scene. A second wraith jumped into view, trying valiantly to beat the bot out of the sky. Tenet felt like screaming to the wraith, warning it to run. Nature on nature was one thing. This was something else entirely. This wasn't in the natural design, this was man's intervention run amok. Half of Tenet wanted to get in there and fight the bot himself.
It was that thought that brought him out of spectator mode and kicked in the self preservation. What was he doing just standing here and watching? Any second that bot would get sick of
zapping the dead and hunt for more living. The truth slammed into him, and his legs moved on instinct. It would be looking for the living, and that was him.
Scarab slipped almost completely off his back, but he didn't even notice. Driven by blind panic, he peered in the dark for something, anything to hide behind. He had to make it. He had to make it. To where, he had no clue. He had to make it, as his heart pounded in his ears. He had to make it, as every ragged breath he drew hurt just a little more than the last. He had to make it, as his eyes searched the darkness. Panic welled up within. This was grazing land for livestock. By design, rocks and obstacles had been removed. He hadn't passed over so much as a small hill all night. There was nothing but the lone structure he spent hours trying to reach, and that was now taken over by the bots. He suddenly became aware that the flashing had stopped from behind him. Could he drop and pretend to be dead? Would it be possible to trick the bots? Could he burrow into the scorching sand for cover? He had to do something.
A brilliant flash in front of him dropped him to his knees. Scarab tumbled off, and he covered her body with his. This was it. This was the end. He failed. He heard the zap. He heard a distinctive crashing noise. He whispered one last confession to Scarab, and waited for the pain.
“Boy get up outta that sand and get yer ass in here!”
It took a few seconds for the voice to register in his mind. A voice. Another voice? Was he dead?
“Hark, show some compassion,” came another, softer voice. “Bet he's been through a lot.”
“Enna, them bots don't give a shit what he been through. Get him in here. I'll get the metal.”
He looked up then and saw the face of an angel.