Dissident

by Lisa Beeson

  “What is he saying?” Vrahnon asked.

  Sennah explained that they were at the bottom of an abandoned well near the Outskirts of the Malethian lands.

  “I know this old well,” Musqar Fenn said, as comprehension dawned on him. He turned to Vrahnon. “It’s become a marker for nearing the Border Bazaar. I never knew there was water down here.

  “The Border Bazaar?” Vrahnon said warily. “That place is only for cutthroats, outlaws, and Karno scum.”

  “Which makes it the best place for us,” Musqar Fenn corrected. “No regulations. No questions. Anonymity required. I will help you get what you need, but then I must return to my family.”

  Matisyan moored the craft to the rock island, then went below to return some of the gear they had confiscated back to the men.

  After Sennah quickly put on her desert gear, she made her way over to Vysan. “I will keep my promise, hiuwe. I will return this kindness somehow. I vow it to you.”

  Vysan’s mouth quirked with amusement, then sobered as he crouched to face her eye to eye. “I only ask that you not forget us in all that is to come. Our seers foretell of a great upheaval that will rival the turmoil of the last Galactic War.” His eyes became intense and he lowered his voice. “Through the ‘rhythm of the rocks’ I have lived to a very old age and have a very long memory. I remember the stories of ones like you. The ancients used to kill your kind out of fear.”

  Sennah had no idea what he was talking about; there was no one else like her, and to her knowledge, there never has been.

  He took her little hands in his. “It would be a great waste to extinguish a brilliant light such as yours. So I will not speak of it to anyone. All I ask is that you remember us. And know that we are your people.” He placed his fingers to his forehead and then his palm out to her.

  “Child! Come,” Vrahnon called with a firm impatience. She could tell he wanted to be away from the Xanarhii’s subterranean caverns as soon as possible.

  Sennah turned back to Vysan. She was confused by his words, but felt their sincerity. They could count on the Leftbehind to help in time of need. The thought comforted her.

  “I will never forget you, hiuwe.” She placed her fingers to her forehead then her palm out to him. “Your people are my people.”

  Chapter 14

  Val’s breakfast sat untouched on a rolling cart by her bed. She had no appetite.

  Sitting there, holding herself together, she stared disbelieving at the thing that had appeared on the desk overnight.

  The shabby old rabbit stared back at Val like the mournful ghost of a long lost friend. Why did you leave me, his forlorn face seemed to ask her.

  Conejito had been her constant companion since before she could remember. No matter what chaos swirled around her, Conejito’s soft, bean-filled body remained her anchor. His plastic eyes were always full of kindness and understanding. He listened to her wishes and fears with a sympathetic ear. He never hurt her. He was always there to give hugs and cuddles when no one else was. That is, until she had left him at the Marlowe’s mansion.

  Her mother leaving had cut Val down to the core, but losing Conejito, when all she had to do was reach out and grab him off that kitchen table, had broken her completely. She had lost everything.

  That was when she had started becoming hard – erecting a fortress around her tender heart, brick by bitter brick. She knew that she would never survive this harsh, uncaring world if she were ever that vulnerable again. If you don’t get attached then they can’t hurt you when they’re gone. Don’t let anybody in. They don’t deserve you.

  Thirteen years later, there Conejito sat, haunting her with her lost innocence. His sudden, unexplained appearance back in her life hurt almost as much as his absence.

  He was a lot smaller than she remembered him being, but his left paw still had a bald patch from where she had rubbed it every night before falling asleep. His eyes were still scratched, and his once light tan fur was still a dark dingy gray from being constantly by her side.

  …That’s what love does to you. It wears you down and destroys you piece by piece until there’s nothing left.

  Minutes continued to tick by as she wondered how the rabbit had gotten there and where it had come from.

  She had been sure that Claudia’s witch of a mother had gotten rid of him as soon as she possibly could. That was her way. Dirty, ugly things weren’t tolerated in her perfect plastic world.

  Is it some kind of messed up ploy to set me off balance? …A way to blast through my walls to bring me back to that state of naive vulnerability…?

  Val tried to suppress the reflexive flinch at the two beeps signaling that the door was opening, but failed. When she saw who had opened it, she flinched again – this time out of surprise instead of reflexive fear. It seemed that her morning was going to be full of surprise appearances. First, Conejito, and now Zachary Brandt was standing in the doorway.

  The last time she had seen Zachary was right before he had run away from Scion’s Keep a couple years ago. However, it wasn’t the same boy with the greasy hair, wrinkled clothes, and trench coat that she had known. This young man that stood in the doorway was dressed like a polished prep-school kid and stood confident with a purposeful gaze – devoid of everything that had made him Zachary.

  “Hello Val,” he said without emotion, not even a minor interest in seeing her…after all this time… Here… With no hair… And a robotic eye. Nothing.

  Diana’s words of “dead-eyed drones” flitted like a panicked bird through Val’s mind.

  Zachary had not been what she would call a friend, but he was a fellow outcast that had been pushed into using his ability to protect himself. They understood each other. She had Stan’s death staining her soul, and he had the death of his abusive a-hole father staining his.

  Zachary had been her ally against the sheeple, and he was the one who had convinced her to sneak away from the café. They would go to pawnshops and music stores together. If it had not been for Zachary, she would have never met Liam and his band.

  When he had taken off without a word, she had been disappointed, but she had gotten over it quickly. She understood the need to get away.

  The Reinholds must have picked him up and sent him off to this place, just like they had done to her.

  …Another one bites the dust.

  “What the hell happened to you, man,” she asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

  “I finally realized that I wasn’t living up to my full potential,” he said, looking through her. “My lack of focus and self-control was a detriment to myself and a liability to the Cause. I have purpose and direction now.”

  He glanced at her untouched breakfast. “Finish your food. You will need your strength.”

  “For what,” Val asked, wary. “What’s going on? What are you even doing here?”

  “I’m here to escort you to a meeting.”

  “No, I mean here,” she said, gesturing around them. “What are you doing at The Facility?”

  He walked towards the cart with the food. “I am using my unique skills and abilities to help the Cause.” He gave her a significant look. “…As you should be doing. Cooperation comes with privileges. Willingly pledge yourself to the Cause and your eyesight will be restored and the restrainer chip in your neck will be deactivated.”

  “So I can be a dutiful little puppet like you? I don’t think so.” She pointed towards the door. “You can turn right back around and tell your puppet masters to quit trying to mess with my head.”

  His hand shot out to clasp her wrist in a painful grip as his other hand conjured a ball of blue flame.

  “Get the hell off me!” Val screamed, desperately trying to pull away as he brought the flame closer to her hand.

  “Are you going to eat? Or are you going to keep causing trouble,” he asked, his voice even and his eyes cold.

  Her hand flared with pain as the heat quickly became unbearable. Her skin would start to blister any seco
nd. She kept trying to pull away, but she was still too weak and no match for his wiry strength. “Okay! I’ll eat! Just stop!”

  He immediately let go, extinguishing the blue flame, and watching her carefully.

  Val shook her hand and blew on it to cool it down, then checked her skin. It was hot and rosy, but there was no damage done. Zachary knew how to hurt without leaving a mark.

  He did not smirk with triumph or sneer with derision, as he would have done before. He only stared with those cold, dead eyes, expecting her to do as she said she would – an emotionless automaton with a set objective. It made her skin crawl, and she realized that he was not just sent here to escort her to some stupid meeting. He was sent to her as a warning: this could be your fate if you do not fall in line.

  Self-preservation kicking in, Val picked up her fork with a resentful glare, and then stabbed at the omelet on the plate. She shoveled the cold rubbery eggs into her mouth, choking down each bite with a spiteful determination.

  She had not been worried about wasting food before, because she knew that there was a fruit cup and a carton of orange juice waiting for her, already hidden in the hole she had made in the back of her mattress. Now she wished that she had just eaten the stupid eggs when they were still warm and appetizing.

  When she was done, she threw the fork down onto the tray with a loud clatter and an expression on her face asking: Happy?

  Zachary merely pointed to the cup of green juice. “Drink up. Our scientists have improved on George’s recipe. It is more palatable and highly beneficial.”

  Val curled her lip, letting him know just what she thought of his so-called scientists, before downing the green drink.

  Surprisingly, it actually did taste better than George’s sludge and she had no problem finishing it. However, when the cup was empty, she slammed it down in mock disgust. She would never let on that she had actually liked it and betray George like that. He had taken the time to teach her how to play guitar. She also figured that he had to have known she was skimming off the pot crop, and hadn’t done anything about it, which made him solid in her book. Please don’t let him be one of Them too…

  Zachary continued to show no response to her loud aggressive gestures, and she was disappointed that her small acts of rebellion were wasted on him.

  When he was satisfied that she was finished, he motioned for her to follow him out of the room.

  Slowly getting up to follow, she stopped before passing where Conejito sat on the desk. With only a second’s hesitation, she grabbed the rabbit, stuck it in the waistband of her pants against her back, and covered him with her shirt.

  Even if they were using the stuffed toy as a psychological weapon, she could not bring herself to leave him behind again.

  Chapter 15

  “All is clear,” Musqar Fenn’s voice called down the opening of the abandoned well.

  Vrahnon lifted Sennah off the top stair by one of her arms and swung her easily onto his back.

  Wrapping herself around the hump of his pack, she held on tightly with both her arms and legs as he climbed up the dilapidated apparatus. The coolant rig in her gear kicked on as soon as they reached the heated air outside of the well.

  Without the protection of the canyons, the sun was even more oppressive. The sweltering heat made it hard to breathe, and the air wavered like water over the baking ground.

  “Just past there,” Musqar Fenn said, pointing towards a few outlying rock formations trailing off from the end of the canyons. The arched and broken crags emerged from the swirling petrified sand like a drowning man’s fingers reaching out in a last desperate attempt for aid.

  To stay out of sight, Sennah buried her face into Vrahnon’s back to blend into his gear as the two men swiftly made their way to the deceptively distant shelter.

  Her muscles ached and the tenuous, sweat-slicked grip she had on his gear was just about to give when they finally made it to some shade. Lifting her head, she saw that they were in a shallow cave under the outcropping of some jagged rocks. Sennah slid down to the ground as the men sank to their knees and eagerly drank from their hydration pouches.

  Getting a pouch for herself from Vrahnon’s discarded pack, she eagerly drank while wobbling on weary legs to the entrance to the cave to survey what lay ahead. The cave mouth faced the other trailing rock formations. To the right was where they had just come from, and to the left, beyond the last of the dunes, was a dry lakebed. The flat expanse filled with what could only be the Outskirts Border Bazaar.

  The Malethians were known for their skill and aptitude for commerce and entertainment – in fact, their whole culture was built around it. Sage Onryn had said that tourists from all over Anu came to sample the goods and amusements their festivals and marketplaces offered.

  The makeshift tents, lean-to stalls, barebones buildings, and overall shabbiness of the Border Bazaar was not at all up to the standards she had expected.

  “It looks abandoned,” she said with a slump of her shoulders.

  “Once the sun goes down the bazaar will come alive,” Musqar Fenn assured her between deep drags of his hydration pouch. “It is too hot during the day for good business. And the clientele prefer the cover of night.”

  “Will it be safe for us there,” she asked him.

  “No,” he said plainly. After drinking his fill, he turned to Vrahnon, who was sitting back against the rock wall. “It would be best if I go on alone. As you said, the Border Bazaar is infested with Karno and Karno informants. I will start out now to make it by sundown.” He stood up and held his hand out towards Vrahnon in expectation. “I will act as your agent and get what you need. I have been there before. I know how to navigate the place without getting robbed or killed.”

  Vrahnon eyed the outstretched hand warily. Even after all they had been through, he still could not bring himself to trust their Musqar guide to not run off with their money and abandon them.

  Musqar Fenn’s disappointment in Vrahnon’s hesitancy was clear, though he seemed resigned to this prejudice towards him. “The quicker we get this done, the quicker we can go our separate ways,” he said with a long-suffering dignity. “I will honor my contract. I wish to see the child off safely.”

  Sennah went over to stand beside her uncle. Raising her goggles, she looked into Musqar Fenn’s eyes and could read his sincerity. Placing her hand on Vrahnon’s temple, she joined their xjaasai and thought to him, “We can trust him, savan. His purpose is true.”

  He glanced over at her, the tensing of his jaw and slight crease in his brow the only signs of his surprise at her voice in his head.

  Seeing her earnest confidence, he took a moment to swallow his innate distrust of the Musqars before turning back to their guide.

  Sennah let her hand fall and disconnected their xjaasai.

  Though still wary, Vrahnon grabbed his pack and after rummaging through the contents, he pulled out two wrapped stacks of untraceable com-chits and placed them in Musqar Fenn’s hands.

  “Buy only what is essential for us to make it to Nathsban,” Vrahnon said. It was easy to see the warning in eyes. If Musqar Fenn did anything other than that, it would be the last thing he would ever do.

  Musqar Fenn eyed him right back, his conscience clean. “I will honor my contract.” He opened his own pack, placing the money inside and then took out the equipment for his security field. “Keep this while I’m gone as a sign of good faith between us.”

  Vrahnon glanced back at Sennah, before turning away and lowering his voice so she would not overhear what he had to say. After a quick exchange, Musqar Fenn nodded then replaced his pack onto his back and armed his weapon. “Be sure to stay quiet and hidden while I’m gone. I will try to be back before sunrise.” He turned away and took off back into the sweltering desert towards the derelict warren of the Border Bazaar.

  Vrahnon watched his receding form for a while, before placing the nodes for the security field across the opening of the cave.

  He motioned for Senn
ah to move further back then activated the field.

  Digging through his pack again, he brought out a small vial. “We should do this now, while we have time.”

  Sennah found it hard to swallow with a suddenly dry throat, but tilted her head in assent. “Yes, domen,” she said in a tight whisper.

  “Good.”

  She could read that he was still uncomfortable with that word coming from her, but it was necessary that she get into the habit.

  Sitting down against the cave wall, he stretched out his legs and motioned for her to lie down and place her head on his lap. He opened the vial, careful not to spill any of its precious contents.

  The Xjaamin had told them that the tech would make an undetectable film over her iris, hiding the Ayan colors. He also warned that the application and the time it took to create the visual shield would be quite painful.

  “Look up at the ceiling,” Vrahnon instructed, while tearing a piece of cloth from his shawl. “Do not scream or cry out. The sound will carry.”

  Sennah promised that she would not and braced herself as he gently put the scrap of cloth in her mouth to dampen any sound she did make.

  With one hand, he held her right eye open, while the other hand held the applicator, preparing to drop the tincture in. She could see his reluctance to cause her pain, but they both knew that it could not be helped.

  Without a word of warning, he applied the drops, dousing her eye with liquid fire.

  The application of her first rune had been excruciating, but it had come and gone in a quick searing wave throughout her whole body. The tincture was a localized, caustically sharp pain that didn’t seem to end.

  She kept her promise not to cry out, but she could not help grunting and moaning in anguish as her teeth gnashed and clamped on the cloth in her mouth. Reflexively bucking and twisting to get away, her hands tried to claw at her face to stop the pain that pierced through her skull.

  Vrahnon managed to stop her from hurting herself by wrapping his vice-like arms around her and holding her close. Not able to claw at herself, Sennah continued to twist and kick out – the violence somehow helping her tolerate the intolerable.