Repatriate Protocol Box Set

by Kelli Kimble

  I tapped on my tablet, looking for the closest city with buildings large enough to be called “skyscrapers”. Not many cities still had them at the beginning of the winter. But, I found a candidate without too much effort. “What do you think of heading to Denver? It had the tallest buildings in the mountain states. Surely, some of those have survived.”

  “Denver? How far is that?”

  “About 500 miles, point to point. But, we won’t be able to go straight there. It would probably be a lot easier to go between the mountain ranges to the north, and then cut across here to the west,” I said. I traced the route on my tablet with my finger and showed it to him.

  He let out a low whistle. “Looks like it’s actually closer to 600 miles that way.”

  “That’s a long way,” I said. “What do you think? Would you go with me?”

  “Sure, I can do that,” he said, shrugging. “But, we need to tell Fiona. We can’t just sneak off.”

  “Okay,” I said—though I expected that to be an unpleasant scene at best.

  We talked deep into the night about how we’d go about it: What we’d take; when we should leave; how long we’d be able to hike in a day. By the time we rolled up in our sleeping bags with Bo between us, it was all settled. We’d leave in a week.

  Chapter 7

  “You can’t be serious,” said Fiona. She dropped the bundle of dirty clothing she was carrying, a disgusted look on her face. “You want to leave? Again? And this time, you want to go all of the way to Denver? Do I even want to know where that is?”

  I cleared my throat. “It’s about 500 miles southeast of here.”

  “Oh, is that all? How do you propose to get there?”

  “We’ll walk. See? Let me show you the route we have planned.” I took out my tablet and brought up the map, but she slapped it out of my hands. It fell onto my boot, then clattered to the floor.

  “I don’t care what your planned route is. You don’t need a plan, because you aren’t going.”

  “Fiona. I love you, I do. But, we’ve already had this conversation. You can’t keep me here. I’m an adult.”

  “Well, so am I. An older adult with a lot more wisdom, and I’m telling you, that isn’t a safe thing to do, and I won’t let you do it.” She kicked at the dirty pile of clothing at her feet. “I can’t believe you’re persisting in this nonsense. Can you just take a minute to think this through?”

  “We’ve taken days to think it through,” I said. “We’ve got a solid plan, and it’ll help us learn how to live in the wilderness. That’s a skill we’re going to need at some point. We can’t stay in here forever.”

  “Who is this ‘we’? You’ve convinced someone else that this plan isn’t going to end in death?”

  “Leif. We worked it all out together. He’s fully aware.”

  “He’s aware, but he lets his loyalty to you blind him. This is dangerous, Silver. You’ll be going further from the mountain than anyone has ever gone. We don’t know what’s out there. There could be felines, bears, more dogs, or other animals we’ve never even seen, and that’s not even counting dangers like snakes, falls, frostbite . . . geez, Silver. The list of dangers is longer than you can imagine.”

  “The rewards far outweigh the dangers,” I said.

  “No, they don’t. The pre-winter history is real. I don’t need proof of that. Why do you?”

  “Because there are others who do,” I said. It was a valid point. Was it really important to prove something in the past was real? It wouldn’t change anything. I hesitated.

  She saw my weakness and pounced. “Maestro’s opinion of recorded history is just a drop in the bucket,” she said. “Who cares what he thinks?”

  “Everyone here cares what he thinks. He’s turned them all against us.” I grabbed her hand and held it close to my heart. “Please, Fiona. It’s important to me. This isn’t just to prove that the history is real. It’s to prove that I can do it. I need to do it. I need to succeed in this thing that’s bigger than any of us. Can’t you just support that? Why does it always have to be about danger and safety?”

  “Because someone has to be practical around here,” she said. She extracted her hand from mine and sighed. “I understand that you have this drive in you, Silver. I don’t want to extinguish it. I just wish you’d choose something else to drive towards.”

  “That isn’t going to change,” I said.

  “You’re right about one thing,” she said. “We can’t stay in here forever. I don’t want to any more than you do. But, I’ve gotten old. Changing is hard when you’re old.”

  “Let Leif and I help you,” I said. “We could learn so much on this trip. Stuff that we could share with everyone. Stuff beyond history.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “What about Tennessee?”

  “What about her?”

  “Does she know about this trip? Why isn’t she going?”

  I shook my head. “She doesn’t know yet.”

  “You don’t want her to go?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. I—I can’t say. But, I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to go. She’s physically capable, sure. But, I just have this feeling that she shouldn’t go.”

  “So, you didn’t tell her about it.”

  “No, not yet. I wanted to talk to you first.”

  “Your relationship with the two of them . . . it’s stronger than any other bonds in the colony. Nobody else has paired off like you three. Are you sure you want to break it up?”

  I looked down at the floor. I didn’t want to admit that the possibility of a relationship between Leif and Tennie made me uncomfortable. It would change our whole dynamic if the two of them took up with each other. “I’m scared for her. That’s all,” I said.

  “Hm. Well. I wouldn’t be surprised if she argues with you the way you’ve just argued with me.”

  “Are you saying we can go?”

  “I’ll think about it,” she said. “This is too big for me to just let you do it.”

  I gathered up the clothes on the floor and kissed her on the cheek. “I know you’ll give it fair consideration,” I said. “Thank you, Fiona.” Then, I dashed from the room to take the dirty clothes to the laundry before she could say no.

  ◆◆◆

  “When were you going to tell me about this trip of yours?” demanded Tennie. “I had to hear it from Fiona! Like an outsider. Why would you do that to me?” It was Leif’s turn to be inside, and she’d waited until he left to pick the fight.

  “Calm down,” I said. “I was going to tell you. I just wanted to get permission from Fiona first.”

  “You were going to leave without a word, weren’t you? You thought Fiona wouldn’t say anything, and you two could just waltz off on your adventure without me.”

  “No, that isn’t it at all,” I said. “It’s just . . . I feel this thing in my gut, this instinct, that says you shouldn’t go. That something bad would happen to you if you came.”

  “You’re psychic now? You can see the future?”

  “No, of course not.” I grabbed her by the wrists. “Listen, Tennie. I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt out there. It’s not going to be an easy trip. We’re going to walk nearly 600 miles just to get there.”

  “I can walk just as well as you,” she said, snatching her arm away.

  “I know that. Please, Tennie. Please, don’t be mad.”

  “You don’t want me there. With you. That’s it, isn’t it?”

  “No, of course not.” I clenched my eyes shut. I needed to provide some reason that she’d believe. Anything. “Fiona said she wouldn’t agree to us going if you came, too,” I finally said.

  Tennie stilled. “Really?”

  Relief washed over me. She believed it. “Really. Look, she knows it’s not going to be easy, and she thinks you’re more fragile. She just doesn’t want you to get hurt, and neither do I. I would be heartbroken if something happened. How would I ever be able to tell Fiona if it did?”

  �
��You aren’t afraid to demand what you want from Fiona. So, if you’re letting her dictate that, it must be what you want.” She turned her back to me and went into the tent. Bo followed, and she pulled the zipper down behind her.

  Fiona found me not long after I went back inside. “I’ve come to a decision,” she said, directing me towards her room.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “I thought long and hard about this. Before I tell you, though, I need to know why you don’t want Tennie to go.” She sat at her desk and turned to study me.

  Heat crept up my neck and cheeks.

  “You don’t want to tell me?”

  I shook my head.

  “Are you in love with your sister, Silver?”

  My head snapped up. “What? No. Of course not.”

  “Then, if not that, what? You’ve spent nearly every waking moment with her since you got out of the tank, and now, you want to slough her off?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “It’s not you. It’s Leif. You think she and Leif are in love.”

  “You can’t tell them I think that,” I said. “They’ve never said it.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “Now, it makes sense. That’s why you offered to take turns staying with the dog.”

  I nodded. A sickening feeling settled in my stomach.

  She sighed. “Nature demands that we follow our instincts, Silver. Our instincts are to procreate.”

  I nodded again. I didn’t like where this conversation was heading.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that when I was your age, I lived in a village outside the mountain. Most of the people in the village—including me—had no idea the mountain—and all the people inside it—existed. We were intent on expanding our numbers. Our leaders believed that we were meant to populate the Earth. So, when we were young, we mated with the sole intention of procreation. In fact, those who failed to procreate were looked down upon, and eventually, were cast out of the village into slavery. Love was something that came later—when the babies had been had, and there was time to devote to caring for someone who wasn’t your offspring.”

  I shuffled my feet on the floor. I didn’t like thinking of Fiona with a brood of children that were really her own.

  “I never had any children,” Fiona continued. “Adam was born out of the tanks from my genetic material. But, I never produced any children of my own.”

  “Fiona, I really don’t need to know these things about you,” I said. “This all sounds very personal.”

  “It is personal, Silver, and so is your relationship to Tennie and Leif. You can’t just drop out of their lives because they’ve found each other. You should be celebrating that they’ve come to this. Children born out of love, in a real relationship . . . that is the only way for humanity to move on.”

  “But, we’re siblings,” I said, my voice rising. “It’s an abomination.”

  “No. It’s a beginning.”

  I stared at her, not understanding what she meant.

  “I’ve decided that you can go, Silver,” she said.

  “I can?”

  “Yes. You, Leif, and Tennie . . . and Bo. You can’t leave that dog here.”

  I pushed aside the bristle I felt when she called Bo ‘that dog’. “Okay,” I said.

  “I mean it; you have to take Tennie. I won’t have you trying to manipulate their feelings.”

  I nodded.

  “You might think that something about them being together is wrong. Maybe it is; maybe it isn’t. But, what other choices do any of you have?”

  “We could produce others from the tanks,” I said.

  She slammed her hand down on the desk. “No. Absolutely not. Those tanks are what got us into this hard spot in the first place.”

  I backed towards the door. Clearly, I was not going to change her mind about the tanks just now. I should be glad to take my victory and run.

  I went right outside to tell Tennie and Leif. Tennie still wasn’t speaking to me, and she turned away as soon as she saw me emerge from the tunnel.

  “What are you doing out here?” asked Leif. “Did you forget something?”

  My face heated. “No. I wanted to talk to you.”

  Leif looked on expectantly. Tennie kept her back to me.

  “Um, okay,” I continued. “So, I just saw Fiona in the hall. She wanted to tell me that we can go to Denver. But, she had some conditions.”

  At the mention of Denver, Tennie’s back stiffened. How should I put this? If I said Fiona wanted Tennie to go with us, Tennie would want to know why she’d changed her mind. But, Tennie had to come with us if we were going to go. “All right. Um. Before I tell you about the conditions, I wanted to apologize. To both of you.” I scratched my head. “This is hard to say, and it’s going to sound bad. But, just try to hear me out.”

  “I’m listening,” Leif said. Tennie didn’t move.

  I took a deep breath. “Okay. Here it is. The other day, when we got back to the mountain, I suddenly had the feeling that maybe there is something between you two. I mean, more than just being friends and siblings. I saw you grab hold of Tennie’s hand, and maybe I read more into it than I should have. It made me kind of uncomfortable.” I shrugged and stuffed my hands into my pockets. Unable to stop rambling, I continued, “I like how we are together. You’re my best friends, and I didn’t want our group relationship to change. So, that’s why I offered to switch places with Tennie, so she could go inside. I was trying to . . . I don’t know . . . put a damper on the situation.”

  Leif nodded and waited. I couldn’t even look at Tennie. “Then, when Leif gave me this idea to go in search of a city,” I continued, “I was worried that we’d be out in the wilderness somewhere, and I’d just be in the way. You know, a third wheel.” I turned to Leif. “So, that’s why I told you I thought she shouldn’t come. I didn’t have a crazy premonition.” I turned to face Tennie’s back. “That’s also why I told Tennie that Fiona wanted her to stay home. It was just me being selfish and afraid, and I’m sorry.”

  Exhausted, I plunked down on a log next to the fire.

  Tennie whirled around. “What gives you the right to decide what I can and can’t do?”

  “I never said I had the right,” I said, holding my hands up in defense.

  “That’s right,” she said, stalking back and forth. She kicked at a rock that flew across the ground, then struck me in the shin. I winced. A look of guilt rushed across her face but was quickly replaced by anger. “You don’t get to decide what I do, Silver. You aren’t my keeper.”

  “I know that,” I said.

  “You just keep quiet! You had your turn, and now it’s mine.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  She stalked back and forth some more. Her lips moved, and she gestured wildly, but she didn’t say anything.

  I glanced at Leif. He was hiding a smile behind his hands, looking at her. But, when he saw me looking at him, he straightened and gave a serious nod. “Well?” Leif prompted her, after several minutes of silence.

  “We’ll go.” She stopped pacing and abruptly sat down beside Leif. Bo snuggled up to her side, and she stroked his head. “I want to make something clear.” Her voice was deceptively soft. “I’m really angry about this. You both hid this plan from me, and I don’t appreciate it. But, we can’t stay here. None of us will find happiness here.”

  Leif nodded and put an arm across her shoulder. “I think we can all agree that’s true,” he said. Tennie shrugged his arm away, and Leif grimaced. “I’m really sorry that we kept you out of it, Ten,” he said.

  She frowned. “Silver, I don’t know what you think is between Leif and me. Not that it’s any of your business. But, you aren’t and could never be a third wheel. We love you.”

  I bowed my head. “Thanks,” I said. I wasn’t sure what else could be said.

  “So, what’s the plan, then? Are we leaving soon? I can’t wait to get this mountain out of my sight.”

  “It’ll b
e out of our sight, for sure,” Leif said. “Denver’s a good four or five-hundred miles away.”

  Tennie’s eyes widened, but then she grinned. “This is gonna be fun,” she said.

  ◆◆◆

  The first week of the trip was uneventful. We hiked about 25 miles each day, following what felt like the path of least resistance towards Denver. We’d had little trouble finding enough to eat: Blueberries on the second day; a small, trapped squirrel our third day; a turtle we caught on the fifth day. When we didn’t find something, we had enough nutrient packs to keep ourselves satisfied—though we only had enough of those to last a few more days.

  At the end of the eighth day, we fell into a routine. When the sun dipped down to late afternoon, we started looking for a spot to camp.

  “I think if we adjust our trajectory a bit south, we’ll find a nice spot a mile or two ahead,” Tennie said, pointing to the map on her tablet.

  We followed her lead, and soon came to a spot with an area that was just right to set up camp in. I put up the tent, while Tennie built a fire and got fresh water, and Leif and Bo went in search of something we could eat.

  I was just finishing up the tent when Tennie grumbled about the water. “It tastes funny. I don’t think we should drink it,” she said. She held out the canteen she’d just filled.

  “It’s salty,” I said. “Where did you get it from?”

  “From a stream, over that way,” she said, pointing at the woods.

  “I guess we shouldn’t drink it,” I said. “We still have one canteen left from yesterday, right?”

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “We’ll just have to find another source in the morning.”

  Leif returned to camp with a small rabbit that Bo had caught, and our attention fell to fixing dinner. We sat around the fire and ate, then cleaned up and headed for bed as the sun dipped below the horizon.

  In the early morning, I woke up when Bo began to growl. “What is it, boy?” I asked, though I knew it was silly, since he couldn’t answer me. With a shaking hand, I unzipped the tent to look outside. As the tent flap opened, I could see that Bo’s teeth were bared, and the fur on the back of his neck was bristling.