by G J Ogden
No-one responded; they were all entirely transfixed.
“This region was remote enough to be spared the horrors of the early years. But the Maddening still took everyone I loved, and by the time I was nigh on sixteen, I was the oldest in at least a thirty-mile radius of this little cottage.”
“You stayed here, alone?” said Ethan, managing to form the words despite his mouth being completely dry.
“Aye, I stayed apart from the others, at first up here, and then when the roamers came, further into the mountains, where nothing lived.”
The hermit circled the table and dropped heavily in the chair that Summer had vacated earlier. “I would come back to the fractured settlements from time to time, trading what I’d found for supplies, but each time there were fewer and fewer survivors. Some had turned, many more had just given up and taken their own lives. I thought it was the end, I truly did.”
“But it wasn’t,” said Gaia, delicately. “Something happened to give the survivors a reason to live. What was it?”
It was a leading question, and the hermit knew it, but he smiled all the same, and some of the old sparkle came back into his eyes. “Hope, of course!” he said, with a sudden extra verve. “As a boy, I remembered my grandmother telling me stories; ancient folklore about monsters and fairies and all that stuff and nonsense. It would scare me half to death!” He gave a throaty chuckle, and then continued. “Well, to stop myself from being scared witless at night, I’d invent a few stories of my own; but instead of monsters, I created heroes. I’d think of them standing by my bed, protecting me, and it made me feel safe. One day, I journeyed off to trade with a small settlement, and I found them on the edge of a precipice, ready to give in and to self-destruct. So, I told them about my protectors, and how they kept me safe while I was alone in the mountains, so long as I didn’t forsake them.”
Ethan laughed and shook his head, as if he’d just got the punchline to a joke he’d been told earlier. Gaia and Yuna both shot him a dirty look, wondering what was so amusing that it merited interrupting the hermit’s incredible story, and then turned back to the old man.
“What did you tell them?” said Yuna, unable to contain her excitement. “Who were your protectors?”
“Ah, it was just something I made up on the spur of the moment,” said the hermit, wafting his hands around dismissively again. “Something about the flashes of light in the night sky, as I recall, though it was a few years ago, lass!
Yuna and Gaia looked at each other and laughed, realizing finally what Ethan had already understood.
“They had all been too young to know about the refinery, you see, and so didn’t know that the lights were just fragments of it burning up in the atmosphere,” the hermit continued, and then he chuckled merrily. “Anyway, the point was it gave them hope, do you see? If something was watching over them then they’d be okay, so long as they didn’t lose hope.”
The hermit sprang up, suddenly lively again, and skipped back to the window, spotting Summer sitting on a cluster of rocks, facing out towards the great lake. “Back then hope was more powerful than anything. Stronger even than love.”
“We need your help again, old friend,” said Ethan. “But, this time fairy stories won’t be enough to save us.”
The hermit continued to look at Summer, who was as still as the stones that surrounded her, and would have been invisible were it not for her vivid red hair blowing in the breeze. His eyes narrowed as his old mind worked overtime.
“Aye, lad, so be it,” said the hermit, wistfully. “I know of a place by the shore of the lake; a scientific laboratory that survived the bombardments. Perhaps, young Gaia can work her magic there.”
“It’s worth a try,” said Gaia. “Assuming it has the equipment I need and we can restore power.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, lass,” said the hermit, glancing at her with a gummy smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get some air.”
The hermit grabbed his coat and swept out of the room, while the others excitedly discussed the startling revelations of the last few minutes. He opened and closed the faded red door so softly that only the chill of the air stealing inside provided any hint it had been opened at all, and grabbed his stick, which was resting against the wall just outside. He inhaled the cool air deeply and then casually trotted up to the mossy, weather-worn cluster of rocks where Summer sat, as still as a statue.
“What do you want, old man?” said Summer, hearing the tap, tap, tap of his cane as the hermit approached.
“A bit of peace and quiet, but we don’t always get what we want now, do we?” replied the old hermit, giving as good as he got. Then he came to a stop just behind her and added. “So, the lady baker died then?”
Summer spun around. “What? How did you know?…”
“Just an intuition,” said the hermit, solemnly, wearing a compassionate, sad smile. “I’ve seen loss, young Summer. A lifetime’s worth. But, I must admit that learning of Katie’s passing saddens me greatly.”
Summer’s eyes narrowed and her lips parted as if to speak, but she just turned and stared away into the distance again.
“How is her son coping; the young ranger, Elijah? He still has you and Ethan, at least.”
Summer again didn’t answer, but the hermit observed that her shoulders and neck tightened at the mention of Elijah’s name, and his head fell low. He shuffled around to the other side of the cluster of rocks and perched himself on one of the smaller stones beside Summer.
“I’m so sorry.”
“What do you have to be sorry for, old man?” snapped Summer, her words nearly as biting as the wind. “You’ve spent all your life alone, caring for nothing and no-one. You speak of loss, but you’ve never had anything to lose.”
“It wasn’t always so,” said the hermit, softly, allowing Summer’s hard words to wash over him like water on wax.
Summer shut her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose. She was allowing her grief and self-hatred to flow out towards others again, and the hermit was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Sorry, you didn’t deserve that,” she said, coming as close to humility as it was possible for her to get. “Recently, it’s been… difficult for me.”
The hermit nodded and let out a long sigh. “Don’t be sorry; to lose someone you love… well, there is nothing that can fill that void.” He looked at her with an intensity that penetrated into her soul. “But, you must not be consumed by it, Summer, do you hear? This planet offers no forgiveness; it gives nothing, but will take everything from you, if you let it. If you give in to fear, as I once did.”
“What happened?” said Summer, warming to the old man, as everyone eventually did.
“It’s a long story… perhaps one for another time,” said the hermit, momentarily becoming lost in his own thoughts. “Let’s just say I couldn’t face losing them. So I cut myself off; I tried to convince myself I didn’t care, and didn’t feel. I ran. But no matter how far I travelled, I couldn’t put them out of my mind. And, I tried, Summer, believe me I tried. So I came back, but by then it was already too late. Roamers had found the settlement and killed them.”
For a time they sat together in silence, staring out at the lake as rays of sunlight penetrated through the clouds and cast chaotic patterns over the tops of the snow-capped mountains.
Summer turned to the old hermit again. “How did you survive it?” she asked, desperate for an answer that she could use. “How do you cope?”
“Cope with losing them?” asked the hermit.
“Not just that. How did you get past the anger? How do you stop hating yourself?”
“It just came with time, young Summer,” the hermit replied, jabbing the end of his stick into the inky black soil. “Something I’ve had a lot of.”
“I’m afraid time is the one thing I don’t have.”
The hermit scowled and shuffled closer. “What do you mean by that?”
“I’m dying.”
The hermit recoiled, and then his spindly fingers gripped the handle of his stick tighter, driving it deeper into the dirt.
“Genetic damage they called it, whatever that means. It’s like the Maddening, except I just die, rather than turn into one of those things. I guess I should at least be grateful for that. Ethan believes your blood can save me, and, well…”
“You don’t want him to give up hope.”
Summer smiled at the old man. “Something like that. But, it’s not just about me. You see, I’m…”
Summer hesitated, but the hermit finished her sentence. “Pregnant?”
“How the hell do you know all this?” said Summer, but then she raised her eyebrows and answered her own question, “Don’t tell me, it was just an intuition.”
The hermit nodded, but did not elaborate on the source of his insight. “And how do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know,” said Summer, honestly. “I don’t see it as a kindness to bring life into this world. But Ethan tried to convince me otherwise.”
“Aye, well it’s a hard world, and by rights it should have died long ago, the same as us. But for some reason it fights on, and so must we.”
“Even if we have no hope of winning?”
“There’s always hope,” said the hermit, but although Summer had heard him utter these words a dozen times before, this time he sounded distant and unsure. “At least, that’s what I always told myself, and others. Maybe it’s time I actually meant something by it.”
The hermit slid off the rock and then prodded Summer’s shoulder with his stick, leaving a muddy mark. “Come on, we have work to do.”
Summer tutted and brushed off the mud with the back of her hand, but then she noticed that the hermit had already skipped away.
“What do you mean we have work to do?” Summer called out as the old man practically danced back towards the cottage. “Hey, where are you going?”
The hermit glanced back at her and the characteristic twinkle was back in his eyes. “To find you some hope…”
Chapter 19
Muscles still burning after the frantic escape from the flight training campus, Maria and Ashley Jansen trudged down the stairs to the disused basement room of Ashley’s apartment block. There were already two other people inside, who Maria recognized as the stocky man and mousy-haired younger woman from their earlier encounter in the alley. They were standing behind a table that looked like it wasn’t part of the regular furniture, in what was otherwise a sterile, empty space.
“I believe you’ve already met and Byrne and Etta,” said Ashley, shutting the door behind Maria.
Maria nodded respectfully at Byrne, “I’m sorry about the kick to the... you know. No hard feelings?”
“Not much feeling at all yet,” Byrne replied, and Maria couldn’t tell whether it was sarcasm or just excessive honesty. “But I’m okay, thanks for asking.”
“Both are members of our little resistance group in this sector,” Ashley continued. “Neither have any connection to the Security or Flying Corps, and so they can more easily stay under the radar of the sector commanders. Both have also shown remarkable skill in rooting out information.”
“What news of Karl?” said Maria, fidgeting with the bracelet on her wrist. “Is he alive?”
Byrne stepped forward and placed a portable holo emitter on the table. He tapped the activation button and stepped back again, and a holo image of the government sector appeared in front of them.
“From what we can gather, the chatter among the blue boots is that Major Page was captured alive,” Byrne began, and Maria felt some of the knots and coils in her muscles relax. “He put up a hell of a fight, by the sounds of it.”
“Do you know where he was taken?” asked Maria.
“We’re not sure, but our contact in the government sector says there has been some unusual activity in the Teardrop. Both Governor Kuba and Major Darien were seen entering it, along with a few others.”
Ashley frowned. “The Teardrop? That place is barely used for anything these days. Surely, they would have taken him to a Security Corps compound instead?”
Maria rested her palms on the table and peered into the holo image, before reaching in and expanding the area around the Teardrop, pushing the surrounding buildings out of the image with a flick of her wrist.
“Has General Kurren’s death been made public yet?” asked Maria, directing the question to Byrne, but it was actually Etta that answered.
“No, the sector commanders are still coming down hard on any gossip,” Etta paused and glanced down at her feet. “I know, because my brother is part of a unit in sector six. The commander loyal to Kurren had him beaten and locked up overnight simply for asking why the general hasn’t been seen for so long.”
“That’s why they’re using the Teardrop,” said Maria, thumping a fist on the table, which shook the holo emitter and caused the image to shudder and distort. “They don’t want Karl to be seen, and taking him to a main security compound would create a lot of attention and gossip.”
“But why the Teardrop?” said Ashley. “It’s just a giant conference room.”
“Yes, but it was built before the war, to host the signing ceremony,” explained Maria. “With all of the planetary governors in one place, they had to make sure it was secure, so the whole room is shielded against any form of electronic surveillance.”
“Agreed, it’s the ideal place to host a covert interrogation,” said Byrne.
Maria studied the holo and then reached into the image again, tapping the glassy outer shell of the Teardrop and making it disappear to reveal the internal layout.
“You mentioned that Kuba and Major Darien were seen entering, but who were the others?” asked Maria.
“One or two staff, and perhaps three other UEC soldiers that we’re aware of,” said Byrne. “Two entered with the person we believe was Major Page, but the third arrived more recently and hasn’t yet departed. We haven’t seen Kuba or Darien come back out, either.”
“There is another rumor circulating,” added Etta, nervously while still looking at her feet.
“We can’t confirm that yet,” Ashley cut in, quick to rebuke her for presenting speculation instead of fact.
Maria looked at them both. “What rumor? Anything could be significant, even if unconfirmed.”
Etta looked up at Ashley and she nodded, giving her permission to pass on the gossip. “Before they took my brother, there was talk that they were interrogating suspected members of resistance groups inside the Teardrop,” Etta began. “One apparently died during the process and was taken out in a body bag.”
“That’s terrible, Etta, but how is it relevant?” said Maria. Hearing her own words, she was aware that she sounded cold and callous but the stakes were too high to waste time on irrelevant matters.
“We checked with all the other groups in the other sectors on the dark channels. No-one has been reported missing.”
“So who was brought out in the body bag?” asked Maria, starting to lose patience.
“The talk is that it was Major Darien,” said Ashley, noticing how the tempo and volume of Maria’s foot-tapping was starting to increase.
“Are you suggesting that Kuba assassinated Major Darien?” said Maria. Her foot had become still again.
“It’s only a rumor,” admitted Ashley. “But it’s at least a possibility, if only a slim one.”
Maria leaned back into the holo image again, studying the layout and making mental notes.
“Actually, it’s exactly the sort of thing Kuba would do, given half a chance, and if true it could actually work in our favor. It means we only need to take out one slimy bastard, Kuba, and we can end this.”
“Perhaps, but whenever he moves in public, he’s protected by a veritable army,” said Byrne, clenching his fists. “We can’t get to him.”
“I can,” said Maria, and suddenly she had everyone’s undivided attention. “If I go alone, I can sneak into the Tear
drop undetected. Once it’s secured, I can even make the broadcast from there. It’s what the place was designed to do.”
Ashley shook her head. “But you need to still be alive in order to make the broadcast. It’s too risky, Sal. ”
“Says the woman who plans to steal a space fighter and park it a meter above the base?” said Maria, raising an eyebrow towards her former teacher.
“Point taken,” said Ashley, resignedly. “It doesn’t mean I’m wrong about you doing this, though.”
“Maybe not,” said Maria, returning her attention to the schematic layout of the Teardrop. “But no-one else puts their life on the line for me today. Besides, I owe Page.”
“That sort of sentiment will get you killed, Sal.”
Maria shook her head, defiantly. “No, it’s what’s going to save us all. We’ve spent too long not caring about anyone but ourselves, and look where that has got us. Well, that’s all going to change, starting now.”
Ashley stood taller and smiled. “When the hell did you become so wise?”
“Are you complaining?”
“Not at all, Sal. In fact, it suits you well. Byrne and Etta will help you to reach the government sector undetected. From there, you’re on your own.”
“Understood,” said Maria, then to Etta and Byrne she added. “Thank you, both of you.”
“It will be our honor, Commander Salus,” said Byrne.
“Please, Sal will do just fine.”
Ashley removed a small data pad from her pocket and checked it. “I have to go. I have an appointment with a space fighter and I don’t want to be late...”
“Try not to crash,” said Maria, taking Ashley’s hand and shaking it firmly.
“This is no time for jokes, Maria,” said Ashley, becoming suddenly serious. “No heroics, okay? If we’re to blow the lid off this whole web of lies connecting Kurren and Kuba, we have to let the entire station see you on that holo.