by Eliza Green
Dom looked into the eyes of the man who’d been like a father to both him and Sheila. At least Charlie wasn’t here. Dom wouldn’t have been able to say no to the old man.
He saluted the colonel. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘Now, first order of business,’ said Max, relaxing his hold on Dom. ‘I’d like to show you around this camp, but first you should get something to eat. Also, Sheila is waiting outside for you, so there’s that.’
Sheila had barely left his side since they’d arrived at the compound.
‘Yes, sir.’
Max saluted him and left. Jacob followed the colonel out.
Dom thanked the medic and strode towards the outside, alone and uneasy. Nothing was resolved. He couldn’t relax, not with the city potentially out looking for them. It didn’t seem likely they would let a dramatic escape slide without punishment.
Then there was Anya. He wanted to see her again, but her recent visit had left him with a bad feeling. What if their connection couldn’t be repaired? What if the distance between them was too great to move past being strangers?
Yet, a flicker of recognition in her eyes had given him hope. She knew him. She just couldn’t remember him.
Dom pushed the double doors open and squinted against the soft brightness. It was nearing evening time and the light was at half strength, but it still bothered his light-deprived eyes. He’d been a prisoner beneath the city for too long.
‘Hey, loser,’ said Sheila.
She was leaning against the wall, oversized sunglasses on her face and her arms folded, but her thin mouth said she was barely holding it together.
‘Hey, brat,’ said Dom. He walked over to her and pulled her into a tight hug. In her ear, he whispered, ‘I’m glad you’re okay.’
A shudder ran from her body to his and he knew she was crying. He pulled her in tighter, even though she tried to squirm out of it.
‘Stop fighting, Sheila. I need this as much as you do. I almost died.’
His own voice sounded close to breaking. But he kept it together.
Sheila slumped against him, the tension in her body melting away. ‘I didn’t know if you’d come out of it. Don’t scare me like that again.’
Dom pulled back and thumbed away the tears marking her beautiful, sun-kissed face, visible below her glasses. She wore her golden brown hair in a single braid and had it draped over her shoulder.
Sheila pulled her glasses away from her face to reveal puffy, red eyes. She wiped away fresh tears with her thumb. ‘You’re making me look like a weepy, old woman. Stop it.’
Dom smiled at Sheila’s attempt to lighten the mood. ‘Looks like I might have improved your face.’
Sheila thumped him on the arm, managing a smile as she did.
‘Max said I’m supposed to take you to the dining hall. But we need to make a stop first.’
‘Lead the way.’
They walked along the street with the town hall and courtyard and away from the medical bay, venturing deeper into the camp. As they did, Dom kept an eye out for Anya. When he didn’t see her, he took in his surroundings instead. The compound sat in a valley with mountains on either side. He noticed spotters up high, hidden in the crevices of the mountain; the setting sun reflecting off their weapons gave away their location. He’d mention that to Max later. Maybe they could camouflage the guns better to be invisible to the naked eye.
About a quarter of a mile back from the courtyard, Sheila took a right onto a smaller street with open-faced stores. A barber shop on the other side, recognisable by a red, white and blue barber’s pole affixed to the wall, still had its windows. He walked up to it and cupped his hands against the glass. Inside, he saw Charlie chatting to one of the male soldiers and cutting his hair.
He knocked on the glass, startling the soldier. Dom waved when Charlie looked at him. Charlie said something to the soldier as he set the scissors down, and came outside.
Dom lunged for the smiling, old man the second he set foot outside. ‘Good to see you, Charlie.’
The old man hugged him back. ‘Dom, I’m so glad to see you’re up and about. I checked on you when you first came, but you were out of it.’
He pulled back and frowned at Dom’s curly hair, giving it a sharp tug; it had grown out since Charlie had given it a buzz cut. The cut had come right before Arcis had insisted Dom stay at the training facility.
‘I think I’ll put a better style in that. Come see me whenever.’
‘I might be busy with other things. But I’ll try.’
Charlie made a noise. ‘The city will do what it has to do. But we will not stop living, my boy. Make time.’
Dom nodded. ‘I promise.’
Charlie winked at Sheila then returned to his customer.
They walked back the way they came.
‘He missed us,’ said Sheila.
‘The feeling’s mutual.’
Sheila led him back to an entrance to a courtyard and an open-sided gymnasium. Dom spotted a punching bag to the rear of the limited equipment.
Sheila grinned at him. ‘Thought you might notice that.’
They entered the yard and passed by soldiers dressed in black cargo pants and green T-shirts, doing push ups on the paving stones. He followed her to the left though an open door and into what looked like a dining hall with mismatching tables and chairs. It bore no resemblance to the orderly space in Arcis, or the monochromatic apartment he and Sheila had been forced to live in while in Essention. He normally hated disorder, but given the order that had been forced upon him for months, he welcomed a little chaos.
The smell of food hit him and made his stomach rumble hard. When had he last eaten? Sheila approached a serving area laid out with food items that Dom recognised from the towns and Essention. The limited spread, including loaves of stale bread, cans of beans, small blocks of slimy meat and fruit, indicated to Dom this refuge would be a temporary stop.
The server handed him a compartmentalised tray that reminded him of the food tray he’d been served while prisoner in Praesidium. Salty stew, a bread roll and bottled water had been his rations three times a day. He’d eaten what he could stomach until the salt had forced him to drink their water—water laced with a drug to knock him out. The second he had, Dom had belonged to the city.
But no longer.
He repressed a shudder and thanked the server, who wasn’t much older than him. He and Sheila carried their trays over to an empty table with white plastic chairs set around it. He dug into his portion of beans—a staple in Essention—and a wedge of hard bread. He washed it down with a cup of water.
‘Is this all there is to eat?’ he asked Sheila.
She replied with a nod. ‘It’s all they could grab from the towns and Essention. Charlie and the others cleaned out the factory there before they fled the urbano. But with new mouths to feed, the supplies won’t last long.’
Dom finished his untainted food, grateful to no longer be a prisoner of the Collective.
He looked around the space. His heart almost stopped when he saw Anya sat at another table. She was with Alex, the blond-haired, green-eyed boy from the city.
‘Who is he?’ he asked Sheila.
She didn’t bother turning around. ‘That’s Alex. He and Anya were prisoners in the city.’
Dom pinned Sheila with his gaze. ‘Together or separately?’
Sheila gave a weak smile. ‘What does it matter?’
‘Just answer me.’
His heart pounded as he waited for her answer.
‘Together. He’s what they call a Breeder.’
The title alone sent his brain into overdrive. ‘What did they do together?’
Sheila shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal, but her stiff posture told a different story. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Did you have a Breeder?’
Sheila avoided his gaze and scooped food onto her fork. She nodded as she ate.
His voice rose in anger. ‘What did you do together?’
Sh
eila looked up in alarm and hushed him. ‘Stop it, Dom. I’ll tell you if you stay calm.’
Dom flicked his gaze over to Anya. She was looking at him now. Good. It irritated him to see how close she and Alex were sitting.
He flicked his gaze back.
‘What did you do, Sheila?’ he said, lower this time. He drank some water to calm down.
‘Nothing, Dom. But I was supposed to have sex with him.’
Dom barely managed to swallow the water. ‘Is that Alex’s purpose?’
He studied the good-looking man, who was a similar age to him. He was staring at Dom, challenging him, almost.
Challenge away, Breeder. You won’t win this one.
Sheila snapped her fingers in his face, breaking his attention away from Alex. He blinked and refocused on her.
‘Dom, stop it. We had no choice. I don’t know what they did together, but they got close. That’s all I know. We were being fed drugs to heighten our attraction to each other, to make the breeding process go smoothly. Don’t jump to conclusions. And she doesn’t belong to you, so show her some respect.’
Dom shook his head to clear the images of what he imagined they’d done. ‘I can’t help it. I remember her so vividly. Now it feels like she and Alex are rubbing their new connection in my face. Laughing at me.’
Sheila leaned forward. ‘Anya doesn’t remember you, that’s all. She’s not rejecting you. She doesn’t know who you are. There’s a difference.’ She slapped his hand, hard. ‘Pull yourself together. We’ve more important things to think about than your love life.’
Sheila was right. He was being selfish. He needed to forget about Anya and focus on recovering his fitness.
People from the city would be coming soon. Dom would work out his issues with them.
5
Carissa
Ever since her release, Carissa had noticed a couple of female soldiers showing an extra interest in her. Not just her, but Jerome and Alex’s movements were being monitored too. In a compound as small as this one, she struggled to shake her escorts. Carissa missed the space Praesidium offered, but not the glaring, white brightness of the buildings there. Nor did she miss having to hide her thoughts or erase her memories before Quintus and the remaining nine Collective learned them.
Being forced to live in a place without the Collective’s guidance unsettled her. Not even June, her Original’s sister, could fill that void. While Carissa had been thrilled to see her in the city, their connection had faded since their escape. Now, Carissa thought only of one: Quintus.
Her NMC no longer buzzed with the daily interactions between Copies. She’d even expected a call from Quintus that morning ordering her to the Great Hall. But, the damaged she’d done to her chip a day ago had severed her last connection with the city.
Yet, still she searched.
Under the watchful eye of two female soldiers, Carissa marched through the compound. She’d already walked the perimeter several times. The pair pretended not to watch her, but she, a Copy with a synthetic brain capable of fast processing, had been created to understand human interactions. She understood what stalking was and how it indicated curiosity, but more often a lack of trust. What she didn’t understand was why. Without her NMC, Carissa was no longer a danger to anyone. Plus, she’d helped the humans to escape Praesidium. Surely that counted for something?
The females kept their distance while Carissa explored what Jacob had referred to as a rebel military base. One of many, he’d said. Carissa hadn’t been familiar with the term “military” before the rebels stormed Arcis. Quintus had told her the rebels were not to be trusted. It’s what she’d believed, until the moment Quintus had tried to kill the Inventor, her friend.
Judging by the brick constructions in various states of repair, Carissa determined that this compound used to be a town. The mountain range protecting both sides loomed over it like the force field dome had over Praesidium.
She glanced at the cluster of houses to the front of the compound opposite the town hall, a space she’d emerged from not that long ago. The females kept up their surveillance of her as she passed by the courtyard where soldiers trained. The camp reminded her of the business district, just a less ordered version of it. In Presidium, there had been clothing shops and places to buy art supplies, antiques and pottery. But here, a barber shop and countless, open-sided storage areas carrying ammo and essentials, like soap and hairbrushes, gave the setup a more temporary feel.
Carissa pressed her face up to the glass of the barber shop and watched the grey-haired man inside cut the hair of a young, male soldier. He reminded her of the Inventor, just a shorter, stockier version of her lanky friend. She marvelled at the speed with which he cut the young man’s hair. They chatted and laughed about something that was inaudible to Carissa. She missed the screens that allowed her to see and hear the participants in Arcis.
The old man looked up at her suddenly and she froze. His smile dropped away. His hand paused, the scissors suspended mid-air. Carissa backed away from the shop and ran down the street that led to the perimeter fence. Her part-organic heart worked overtime and forced her to gulp in air. She doubled over, worried something was seriously wrong. A new panic flared inside her. This wasn’t the city. She couldn’t just drop in on the Inventor for a check-up.
Carissa was alone.
She leaned against the green, corrugated-sheet fencing, waiting for her breaths to normalise. The panic passed. A quick glance behind her confirmed the female soldiers still followed.
Carissa stuck her face up to a gap in the fencing. It appeared the original town didn’t stop at the perimeter. In fact, it carried on for quite some distance, widening at the middle as it followed the natural curve of the mountains. In the distance, beyond houses in similar disrepair to the ones on her side, she saw evidence of a vertical farm in tatters. It looked primitive compared to the machine-built farm in Essention, designed to feed the townspeople it housed there.
To learn more about this town, Carissa pressed the chip embedded just above her ear. She searched for a connection to the city, some familiar buzz to let her know her NMC wasn’t completely dead. But no response came.
With a gasp, Carissa forced her hand to her side. How many times had she attempted to contact the city?
She lifted her hand again. What harm could trying do? It wasn’t like anyone could hear her anyway.
Her action sent a sharp shiver through her, forcing her hand to her side a second time. She turned away from the fence and trotted back to the main hub of activity.
The females followed, chattier now than they’d been all morning. She assumed they were discussing her. If this had been the city, she’d have commanded the insubordinate Originals to cease their discussion. But here, Carissa was nobody. The intrusion on her personal space filled her with dread. She wished for them to stop.
So what if this wasn’t the city?
With that thought, Carissa turned on her heel and marched up to the pair, both hands balled into tight fists.
‘Stop following me,’ she demanded.
One female lifted her brow and smiled. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You’re not very good at hiding. I can see you following me.’
The second female shrugged. ‘This is a small compound. It’s easy to get turned around.’
Carissa’s anger bubbled viciously inside her. She sucked in a deep breath and lifted her chin, exactly how she used to in the city when talking to an Original.
On her next exhale, she said, ‘I demand you tell me what you were talking about.’
To her surprise and irritation, both females smiled and glanced at each other.
‘Tell me now,’ she repeated.
Both females laughed hard.
‘She thinks she’s still in the city,’ said one.
The other said, in a measured tone, ‘You have no authority here, Copy. We know what you are and we don’t trust you. You have been made to destroy us.’
Carissa’s body shook; she breathed hard through her nose to control the shake. ‘That’s a lie. Quintus—the Collective—just wanted to escape their prison. The Originals were helping them to do that.’
The second female said, ‘It’s true then. You are a machine that listens to a city run by more machines.’
She shook her head. It was more complicated than that. Carissa was more human than machine. Even the Inventor had said so.
‘I don’t care what you think. I still demand you tell me what you were saying about me.’
The second female folded her arms. ‘No.’
A ripple of anger rushed up and came out as a yell. ‘Fine! Leave me alone. Otherwise I’ll...’
The female uncrossed her arms. ‘You’ll what?’ Her pitch switched to a lower, menacing tone.
‘Nothing.’
Carissa turned and ran before she said something she might regret. The females followed her, which only fuelled her irritation more. She’d made a mistake by confronting them, a move that had ignited their curiosity about her. She had no links to the city. She was not a danger.
Only one person could stop her heart from pounding.
She found the Inventor in a small workshop off an alley to the rear of the courtyard. He was talking with two young men, both with brown hair. One she recognised as Anya’s brother.
‘I think we should start by cataloguing everything we have, Jason.’ He picked up nuts, bolts and broken panels from the desk and let them fall through his fingers. His workshop in Praesidium had been a tidier space than this. ‘We’ll work faster that way. I know this collection belongs to the pair of you. Okay with you, Thomas?’
The quieter and skinnier of the two men nodded. ‘We’re happy to have the help, Jacob. We’re hoping your knowledge of the machines and Copies will help us to fight them.’
Carissa stilled by the door. Did that fight include her? Her foot scuffed a stone and alerted the trio to her presence. Both Jason and Thomas’ eyes widened, but her arrival didn’t startle the Inventor.
‘Carissa. Would you like to meet Jason and Thomas?’ he said with a smile.