Repatriate Protocol Box Set

by Kelli Kimble

  We left the barn, and he took us to a small building, closer to the base of the mountain. Inside, he motioned to a bench, and we sat. He took a tablet from a hook on the wall and swiped his fingers over it. After a few minutes, he hung the tablet back on its hook. “Someone will be out to collect you momentarily,” he said.

  “Okay, thank you,” I said.

  “I need to get back to the gate. Just wait here.”

  I nodded, and he went to the door.

  He hesitated.

  “What do you want to know?” I said.

  “Why did you leave? You could have been the president’s wife.”

  Beside me, Helen gasped. “I’m more than anyone’s wife,” I said.

  He studied me for a moment more. Then, he left.

  Oliver pounded to his feet. “You could have married the president of the mountain?”

  “That isn’t important right now,” I said. “And like I said, I’m more than someone’s wife.”

  Oliver paced to the window and back. “To think of the possibilities. You could have had so much more.”

  “‘More’ is a relative term, Oliver. I tried living here, and I found that it wasn’t for me. And the relationship I would have had with the president—it wouldn’t have been a true marriage. That’s a sacred thing to us, and it wasn’t the same to him. I couldn’t leave that part of myself behind.”

  He didn’t have the chance to say anything more. The door opened, and Leo’s assistant poked his head in. “Ah, Fiona. I was worried that the guard misspoke. Would you like to come with me?”

  We followed him out into the fenced area. “I apologize, but I don’t know your name,” I said.

  “You can call me Swen,” he said.

  I introduced Helen and Oliver.

  Swen took us to the door leading into the mountain. “This must bring back some memories for you,” he said.

  “Actually, I was an unconscious prisoner when I was brought into the mountain. And I left at night.”

  Swen blanched. “I didn’t know that,” he said.

  “I’m sure Leo made sure that nobody did.”

  We followed him down a long, grey hallway. A large, orange door stood open. When we passed through it, we were inside the mountain walls. The room opened into a huge expanse, and ahead, a smaller mountain seemed to be enclosed within the mountain we’d just entered. We went through another set of doors, and the environment looked much more like what I remembered.

  Swen took us through a labyrinth of hallways, up some stairs, and down another few halls, before we came to the door I recognized as Leo’s office.

  “This, I recognize,” I said.

  He smiled and opened the door. The outer office looked the same—though somewhat older and more worn.

  “Does Leo know we’re here?” I asked.

  “Yes. He asked me to show you right in, so, no waiting. Although, maybe Helen and Oliver would rather wait out here?”

  I nodded and pointed to the chairs against the wall. “Wait here for a minute,” I said.

  They sat obediently, and I trailed Swen to the door. He paused and looked back at me. “You should know that he might not seem himself.”

  I didn’t have time to consider what he meant. He stepped aside and opened the door, and I nearly fell into the office. It wasn’t really an office anymore. It was more like the room where the village doctor took care of patients.

  The dominating desk was gone. In its place was a bed that was curled into an s-shape, rather than being flat. Leo was sitting up and propped against pillows. A number of machines blipped light and sounds beside him, and a bag of liquid hung from a pole at the head of the bed.

  The skin on Leo’s face hung slack, even as he smiled. “Fiona,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  I glanced at Swen. Did Leo not remember that he’d come to the village only two days ago? “I’m here to ask you for something,” I said.

  Swen bustled up to him and held a cup of water to his lips. Leo dutifully took a sip, and then pushed Swen’s hand away. “What?”

  “I’ve spoken to the village about the help you requested. For the colony.”

  Leo nodded.

  “They have concerns about the illness,” I explained. “I can’t answer their questions to their satisfaction. I wondered if I could take a few doctors back to the village to let them explain the illness. I think it would go a long way in helping them to decide what to do.”

  “Seems reasonable,” said Leo. He waved his arm at Swen. “He’ll see to it. Swen takes care of everything these days.”

  “Good. Great. I’m glad you’re agreeable. Because I don’t know if I could convince them to assist otherwise.”

  “Of course. And how are you today, Fiona? You looked so beautiful the other day.”

  I laughed. “Well, I don’t know how you could say that; I was dressed just the way I am now.”

  “No, no. That gown. Remember? The other day, when you were wearing that golden gown. What a beauty you are. When we’re married, it’ll unify the village and the colony perfectly. Power and beauty, what a match.”

  My eyes slid over to Swen. His lips were set in a thin line, and he nodded once, looking pointedly at Leo. My heart sunk. He had the sickness. “Well, I won’t keep you,” I said. “You get some rest, and I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

  “What? You can’t leave me without giving me a kiss. Your future husband deserves no less.”

  Swen stepped in. “Now, Leo, we don’t want to pass any germs. You remember what the doctor said.” He signaled to me to leave, while Leo whined about not remembering an order to refrain from kissing his future wife.

  I escaped out the door and closed it quietly behind me. Then, I went and sat next to the kids.

  “Well? Did you get what you came for?” asked Oliver.

  “I think so. We’ll have to wait for Swen to come out.”

  After a few minutes, Swen emerged. He clutched his tablet to his chest, took a deep breath, and then approached us. “I apologize for that display. Maybe I should have described his state better.”

  “What happened to him? Only two days ago, he barely looked sick.”

  “Because of his age, the illness advanced quickly. He probably won’t last the week.”

  “What will the colony do?” I asked. “Has another leader been chosen?”

  “The council is debating. They’ve been observing your village politics for some time. I think they may be tending towards less-structured leadership in the future. In recent years, Leo has lost his grip on the council. Few can be bent to his will anymore, so a president would likely only be a figurehead, as you are in your village.”

  His last statement stung a bit. Not because I wanted to be powerful but because I could tell he meant to belittle me.

  “I’ll take you to the health ward,” he continued. ‘I’m not sure they can spare anyone because so many are sick. We’ll see what we can do.”

  “What about the children?” I asked. “Are we safe to be there with sick people?”

  “It’s a little late now to worry about that, isn’t it?” he said. “You’ve already come inside. But no, the doctors say it isn’t airborne or spread through casual contact.”

  I glanced again at Oliver and Helen. What had possessed me to bring them? I’d put them both at risk. “Perhaps, they could wait for me in the commissary,” I said.

  Swen shrugged. “As you wish. This way.”

  We followed him to the commissary. It was as stark and drab as I remembered it.

  “If you’d like something to eat, please help yourselves,” Swen told them. “And sit anywhere you like. We’ll be back shortly.”

  He and I left the commissary. I tried to think of intelligent questions to ask him about the status of the colony, but my thoughts kept venturing back to Leo and his pending death. Would the colony still want our help? What was their agenda?

  Finally, I snapped out of my reverie. “What’s the current population
of the colony?” I asked.

  “Right now, we’re at 811. About 10% of them are already sick. We expect another 10% or so to become ill in the next month.”

  “And the illness is fatal? Nobody recovers?”

  “Maybe one in five or six recovers. The older you are, the faster it goes.” He paused, eyeing me. “I’ll leave it to a doctor to tell you about it.” Swen gave a stilted smile. He pushed open a large, swinging door with a circular window in it, and we passed through. It swung shut behind us, swooshing back and forth.

  We were in a long, rectangular room with an aisle down the center. On each side of the aisle, two rows of occupied beds—similar to Leo’s—were lined up. They were arranged so that the patients were head-to-foot in every direction. As we passed down the aisle, the patients who could see me openly stared, though many of them were too miserable to even keep their eyes open.

  Violent coughing, wheezing, and gagging filled the room. I smiled and nodded at those who made eye contact, but it gave me an overwhelming sense of despair.

  Swen approached a woman with a broad chest. She wore a cloth over her head that covered her hair, and when she looked up from her tablet, I saw that she didn’t have eyebrows.

  “Hello, Theresa. This is Fiona. Perhaps, you remember her?” said Swen.

  Theresa scanned me from head to foot and back again, her expression suspicious. “No. I don’t know her.”

  “Well, this is Fiona. She’s here from the village. She wants to ask you some questions about the sickness.”

  Theresa turned her full attention to me. It was an overwhelming sensation. “You’re from the village? Which one?”

  “The slave’s village,” I said. Saying it made me want to slap her.

  “I thought so,” she said. She turned her attention back to her tablet. “What is it you want?”

  I wanted to jolt her from her snobbery. “President Leo assured me you would be cooperative,” I said.

  “Who isn’t cooperating?” She motioned to a young man. “Clean up that vomit,” she said, pointing to the floor near his feet.

  “I have some questions for you. About the sickness. Actually, the whole village does. I’d like a doctor to come to the village to address the concerns we have properly—”

  “What? You can’t be serious. No able-bodied doctor can leave this facility. Do you have any doctors who can come here? It would make a whole lot more sense if you’d send help, instead of dragging it away.”

  “I understand you are shorthanded, but with all due respect, if you want our help, we need answers.”

  “Answers to what? Ask. I’m here right now.” She fluffed a patient’s pillow and placed an instrument on his forehead until it beeped.

  “I couldn’t possibly ask all the questions myself,” I said. “I don’t even know what all the questions are. And answers only beget more questions.”

  She leveled a glare at me. “I don’t really care about your questions.”

  “Well, do you care about our help? Because I can’t offer it without answers.”

  She looked at Swen. “What in God’s granite is she talking about?” she said.

  Swen cleared his throat. “President Leo has asked their village for assistance with relocating residents who want to leave the mountain.”

  “Why would anyone leave the mountain? They’re all just a bunch of heathens out there.” She cast a glance at me. “Pardon me for saying so.”

  “Pardon me for being a heathen,” I said.

  Swen smirked.

  I wanted to smack them both. “If you aren’t willing to talk, then I can’t offer you anything. I apologize for wasting your time.” I made my way back towards the door. Swen trailed along behind me.

  As I raised my hand to push through the swinging door, the patient closest to the exit called out. “Wait. Where are you going?”

  Unsure if he was talking to me, I paused. “Me?” I said.

  “Yes. Are you leaving?” He was covered in blankets so that only his head stuck out above them. His hair was sticking straight up on the back of his head from the pressure of his pillow. It looked strangely like a halo.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “This is her. Fiona. Isn’t it?” he asked Swen.

  “It is,” Swen said.

  “I thought you were going to help us,” he said.

  “Who is this?” I said to Swen.

  “He’s a member of the council. The last member who is loyal to Leo. He knew about Leo’s visit to your village the other day.”

  I moved closer to his bed. His hand crawled out from under the blankets—seemingly, unbidden by its owner—and reached for mine. I clasped it. His hand was warm and smooth. “It’s up to you. It’s always been you. I knew it when you were here last,” he said.

  “I’m afraid I can’t help your colony, Sir. Your doctors can’t spare anyone to come to the village to ease our fears. My people are afraid that if we bring your people to the village, the illness will overtake us all.”

  His hand clenched harder. “You’ll help us, because you have to. It’s who you are.”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” said Swen. He pushed me backwards, breaking the contact between me and the man. “There’s no need to intimidate her. Let’s go.”

  We pushed through the door. As it was swinging to a rest, I heard him yell, “It isn’t intimidation! It’s the truth!”

  Chapter 4

  Swen took me back to the commissary. Oliver and Helen rushed forward when they saw me.

  “It was horrible,” said Helen.

  “You have to take us home,” said Oliver. “It can’t be safe here.”

  “Calm down,” I said. “Did something happen?”

  Helen began to cry. Oliver put his arm around her. “A man collapsed from the illness. He was fine—just standing in line—and then, he was on the floor, gorging his stomach all over the place,” he said. “You have to take us home. We’re going to catch it.”

  “No,” I said. “You can’t catch it. The illness doesn’t work like that.”

  “How do you know? Did the doctor tell you that?” said Helen.

  “I—” But before I could finish, I deflated. “The doctor didn’t tell me anything. She was too busy to spare herself—or anyone else—to come with us.”

  Oliver turned to Swen. “Is that what you want? For us to leave?”

  Swen shrugged. “This was Leo’s plan, and he won’t be around to execute it. I don’t know what will happen. Most likely, the ones who can flee will. And the rest will die.”

  “That doesn’t seem to bother you,” I said.

  “No. It doesn’t. Most of them deserve to die.”

  “Did Leo know this about you?” I asked.

  “Leo saw only what he wanted to see, did what he wanted to do. I think you know that.”

  “Fine. We’d like to leave now,” I said. I gathered Oliver and Helen close to me. “Can you take us to the gates?”

  “Whatever,” said Swen. He turned and bumped into another colonist. “Excuse me,” he said.

  “Swen,” she said. Then, she looked at me and cocked her head. “Fiona?” She looked vaguely familiar. I opened my mouth to answer, but she interrupted. “It’s me, Willow! Oh, how are you?” She grabbed my hands and spread them wide to look at me. “You look just the same. Except for the wrinkles, of course.” She laughed at her own joke. “Don’t you remember me?”

  “Of course, I do, I’m just surprised,” I said. I leaned in as she made an awkward attempt to hug me.

  “Oh, are these your children?” she asked.

  “No, my apprentices. This is Oliver and Helen. And this is Willow. We were friends when I lived here.”

  Oliver and Helen gave polite greetings. They weren’t in any mood to be stopped for chitchat, though.

  Willow noticed their reluctance. “Why the long faces? And what are you doing here, anyway? I’m so glad to see you.”

  “I came to see the doctors. It didn’t go as we’d hoped. We we
re just on our way out.”

  Swen tapped at his tablet. “Willow, perhaps you could show them back to the gate? I have to get back to check on the president.”

  Willow’s expression fell at the mention of Leo. “How is he doing?”

  “As you’d expect,” answered Swen. “Good luck to you, Fiona. Thank you for coming.”

  Willow watched him as we walked away. “He must poop diamonds; he’s so uptight.”

  I laughed. “It’s good to see you, Willow. Would you mind taking us to the gate?”

  “Not at all. But can I grab some lunch? I’m starving, and we could catch up for a few minutes.”

  I steered Oliver and Helen back to a table while Willow went for her meal. Helen did not object, but Oliver gave me a long, fish-eyed stare. “We need to leave,” he said.

  “We will. It’s only for a few minutes.”

  Willow returned, slurping coffee from a chipped ceramic mug and carrying a plate of bland-looking food. “So. Fiona. Why did you come to see the doctors? They’re kind of busy.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “Leo asked us to take in colonists. The villagers are afraid of the illness. I thought if I could get a doctor to come and explain, they would be more willing to help.”

  Willow sighed. “I don’t blame them for being afraid. It’s scary, what the illness does. What kinds of questions do they have? I could probably answer them.”

  “Are you a doctor?”

  “No. I’m the coroner. And the mortician.”

  “The what?” asked Oliver.

  “When someone dies, I determine what they died from. And after we have the proper memorials, I dispose of the remains. You don’t have that?”

  “We just bury them,” said Oliver.

  “Right,” she said, crinkling her forehead. “I’ve been studying the illness victims. I could answer your questions.”

  “Would you be willing to come with us? To a village meeting?”

  She shrugged. “Sure. Why not? I could use a break from all the dying and whatnot.”

  Oliver laughed. “I don’t believe you two were ever friends,” he said.

  “Why?” I asked.