by T. S. Simons
'You are the size of a budgie now. I can't imagine you at nine. What were you, size four?'
Illy feigned insult. 'Not quite, but not far off,' she smirked. 'When I started school, they had to order a special uniform for me as I was so small. I remember Mum being annoyed that she couldn't buy my clothes at the second-hand uniform shop.'
I laughed out loud at that. 'Really? I have always been tall. People asked me to help them reach things.'
'I was the one who couldn't reach the top shelf in the supermarket or had to climb on the seat to reach the overhead locker on a plane. I remember on one of my last flights before I was deployed, an elderly gentleman looking so perplexed. I was travelling from Melbourne to Canberra to attend an official briefing and wearing full dress uniform, you know, with all my ribbons and paraphernalia. He so badly wanted to ask me if I needed help but was intimidated by all the colours. Very sweetly, I asked him if he would assist me. The look of relief was priceless! We ended up swapping seats so I could sit with him. We had a wonderful natter all the way to Canberra. He was visiting his daughter, who had just had a baby. He had served in Vietnam and treated me with such respect.'
'Didn't everyone treat you with respect?'
'In uniform? Hell, no! People fell into one of two camps. Very respectful, accommodating and recognising the role we performed, sometimes randomly thanking me for my service as I walked down the street. Others were blatantly antagonistic, making snide remarks in earshot about being invaders and baby-killers. It was difficult to ignore, but you got used to it.'
'Baby-killers? Seriously? Why?'
'There were several high-profile international operations during the time I served, and some highly politicised events where bombs were dropped on civilians. Schools, hospitals, that type of thing. Often it was our allies, not us. Or a genuine accident. It isn't always easy to tell when firing missiles, and often at night. The intel can be wrong, or the coordinates just slightly off. But some people take a very simplistic view of world events and see all military action as wrong. Invasive. So, they tarred us with the same brush.'
'Why did you take up this project? It can't have been for the intellectual stimulation if Dale was one of your colleagues.'
Dale had seen us only a few times and rarely alone since that first day, but I caught the malicious glint in his eye. He hadn't forgotten the insults. Damn. Why couldn't I keep my mouth shut? But so far, aside from choosing excessively large gauge needles and handling us roughly when we were moved to avoid getting bedsores, he hadn't had an opportunity to be alone with us.
'Because I was chosen. It was a challenge, and I relished challenges. I was single, and it gave me a chance to be moved back to Melbourne. My parents had passed, but I missed home. My relationship in Canberra had ended a few months before, but I still saw him around the base and in the Officer's mess, which was awkward. So I accepted. I've told you before I worked with Ashton daily, Angus via teleconference. But I never met Derek, Dale, or many of the others until I arrived on Auckland or Clava. The team charged with choosing the candidates wasn't necessarily the team that was deployed.'
'That must have been hard. How did you do it? Knowing you are saving some people, but not yourself?'
'It wasn't quite as hard as you would think. Most had families. Partners and children. They knew from the beginning that they couldn't all go, and why. There was a general acceptance. Occasionally I sensed a feeling of resentment, but rarely. They knew being deployed wasn't exactly a walk in the park either. Do you know that less than a quarter of people who qualified and were offered a place accepted? Many just felt that they couldn't do it. Many more thought it was overkill, an overreaction. That it would blow over, we would find a cure.'
'Well, weren't they wrong!'
The second surgery to collect my eggs was even more painful than the first, only this time I knew what to expect. Nausea from the drugs pumped into me the day before, and a dragging, cramping sensation afterwards. Only this time the pain was extreme, feeling like I had been slashed inside. The hours I spent in recovery, longer, and far more isolating.
Pretending to be asleep as I was wheeled back into the room, I could feel Illy's tenseness radiating from her bed. Only a few metres away in reality, but she felt a million miles away as I was isolated in my tiny cave, alone. Why me? I choked down the tears and tried to sleep off the pain.
Cam's warm breath on my cheek woke me in the dark.
'Mmm,' I responded, feeling the blanket of love enveloping me before bolting awake, the restraints on my arms a rude reminder of my present predicament. A sweaty hand firmly held over my mouth and nose made me gag, unable to breathe. I wrestled against it in the darkness as the weight of the naked male body pressed down atop me. His hand pressed harder, holding my head in place as I squirmed, and used his other hand to push apart my already splayed legs and prepared to enter me.
No. Fucking. Way.
That single thought spurred me as I fought. It had taken me months to overcome the flashbacks, the feeling of utter helplessness I had suffered after being kidnapped in Inverness. Having Joey's hands down my pants and sloppy tongue on my face had plagued me for months. No fucking way. My mind focused, despite the pain in my stomach. I was not going there again. I would not be a victim.
Summoning up as much saliva as I could, I spat the glob into his hand. Instinctively he removed it in disgust, wiping it on me, and I exploited his split-second error in judgement to screech in his ear.
'Rape!' I screamed, stifled by the weight on my chest. 'Help!'
He tried to clamp his hand back over my mouth, but my head was the one unrestrained part of my body. Even with the limited movement available to me, I thrashed and bit at him as soon as his hands came near my face, catching one of his fingers between my teeth. I clamped down hard on his feral tasting hand. He slapped my cheek with his free hand, freeing his finger. I heard the resounding echo, but I scarcely felt it as I screamed as loudly as I could. Someone must be able to hear me? He started punching me in the head, bellowing at me to shut up. I was livid. I felt the sickening crunch as his fist connected with my nose, but kept screaming. He landed another blow on my left cheekbone, making my eyes water uncontrollably. His hands found my throat, and stars danced before my eyes as I began to lose consciousness.
The sound of Illy yelling at the top of her lungs reached me, and the doors flung open. The lights were rudely switched on, revealing far more of Dale than I ever needed to see.
'You filthy raping piece of shit!' I exploded, blinking and spluttering, as two male staff dragged him off my bed and away. He continued bellowing obscenities at me.
'Stuck-up whore! Think you are better than me, do you? You'll get what is coming to you, and I will be the one to give it to you. Both of you. Don't think you are special, Illyria,' he sneered, stretching the syllables in her name. 'You're next. You love cock, don't you? You'll love mine, plunged deep into your belly. You let that filthy beast do it, I watched. We all watched. Didn't want me, did you?'
Anger had taken hold now, and I was afire.
'How can you justify this?' I roared at the people in the room as they dragged Dale away. 'Call yourselves scientists? How is beating and raping restrained women civilised? You may as well be Neanderthals. Fucking animals!'
Several more staff arrived, trying to calm me, but I was overcome with uncontrolled rage.
'He tried to rape me! He would have succeeded too, no thanks to any of you. Is this what you have become? This is what you aspire to? You keep us captive! Treat me like meat. Stab me with needles. Harvest my eggs, and now what? You want me to have a child with him? Like that?'
The room soon filled with staff, trying to calm me, speaking soothingly to me. After the assaults of the day, I was in no mood to be placated. I fought and screamed. Seven weeks of suffering rose to the surface. I intended to make as much noise as I could. Ngaire tried to check on my nose and cheekbone, which I could tell from the pain radiating
into my head were both broken.
'He did this! You did this!'
Two men held me down as Ngaire injected me with a sedative. I fought and lashed out as much as my restrained form would allow.
'Really? Now you are drugging me. What happens if he has another go? Are you going to protect me this time? Or just stand back and watch? Record it for your precious files?'
'He won't be back,' Ngaire assured me in her best bedside manner. 'You need rest. We will look at your injuries in the morning.'
'All I get is fucking rest!' I bellowed. 'How about not drugging and shackling me so I can defend myself? I thought you built your society on the principles of equality and respect? How scientific is this? Barbaric is what this is!'
Switching off the light and closing the door firmly ended the conversation. I exhaled forcefully, fighting the waves of heaviness pulling me down. Anger still had the upper hand. I would not let these bastards win. I would not succumb. Willing my body to stay awake, fight it, my eyelids became heavy.
'Frey? Are you okay?' Illy's voice reached me through the darkness.
I tried to calm my voice. I wasn't angry at her, but damn it, I was furious.
'Yes,' I hissed through clenched teeth. 'But another few seconds, and it would have been a different story. The asshole broke my nose. Cheekbone too.' As I calmed, I was shocked to realise that it was shame washing over me with the memory of Dale lying on me, naked, his hands forcing my legs apart, and me only in a scratchy cotton open-backed hospital gown with no underwear.
Illy sensed the change in tone and didn't even bother to lower her voice.
'This is not your fault. In no way is this your fault. Be angry, Freyja. Be very angry. You have every right to be. Do not be ashamed. He is a worthless beast, trying to force himself on you. An abominable excuse for a human being. And they allowed it. You did nothing to deserve that.'
'I know….'
But did I? My conscious pricked at me. Had I asked for it? Taunting and provoking him?
I fought the shadows, not wanting to relinquish control. Scared of what might happen, but as I screamed, the cavern opened up and swallowed me.
'Freyja.' It was Laetitia's voice, calling me. A sweet, lilting tone. How did I know her voice? I wondered, dazed. I had never heard her speak. 'Freyja!' She called insistently, the voice taking on a more masculine edge. The world was vibrating, and I pulled back from her, annoyed.
'Jorgensen! Wake up! We don't have long.'
My eyes shot open but couldn't focus in the darkness, the weight of the drugs pulling me down, the swirling sensation making me feel nauseous.
'I'm so sorry,' the familiar voice whispered in an Australian accent. 'This should never have happened.'
'Ashton?' I recognised the voice, even in the dark and through fuzzy semi-consciousness. He and I had spent time together on my first visit here. A decent man, I had thought. Since we had been here, we hadn't seen him once, although both Ngaire and Kal had confirmed he knew we were here. I fought against the whirlpool threatening to drown me.
'Why are you here? In the dark?'
'The cameras are light sensitive. Dale knew that. That is why he tried to… assault you in the dark.'
'He tried to rape me,' I choked, the memory flooding back. 'Strangle me. Landed a few solid punches too. Broke my nose and my left cheekbone.' My face had swollen. I could feel the hot tightness of my skin, even though I couldn't touch it to check.
'I'm so sorry. I never meant for it to be this way.'
'If you are truly sorry, you will let us go.'
Ashton paused, and I softened my approach.
'You have kept us prisoner for weeks. Conducted tests and medical procedures against our will. Stolen my genetic material to use for goodness knows what.'
'We needed it for the program.'
'You'll understand that is of little comfort.'
'We just needed to replace what you destroyed. It is imperative. You don't understand the critical importance of…'
'… She was my sister! She didn't give consent any more than I did. It was my responsibility to save her.'
'I know you won't believe this, but I do understand.'
'Please. My children need me. Angus killed Illyria's husband and shot mine. Cam is likely dead now, too. Our children are orphans if you keep us prisoner. They need their mothers.'
I sensed rather than heard the slight inhalation and pressed on. 'Illy has two beautiful little girls. Luca is dead. Who will care for them? Summer and Allison are their names. Sweet, beautiful girls left all alone with no parents to guide them. And my children. Angus has taken Louis, goodness knows where and why. He must be terrified. I have three other children. They have all been left without a mother. Xanthe, Katrin and Thorsten are their names. They are my world, my everything. How do they grow up without me? Every birthday and Christmas, wondering what happened?'
Ashton tensed in the darkness.
'Please. Let me go home to my family. That is all I ever wanted. My sister. My son. My family. They are my world. I need them. They need me.'
His flimsy resolve collapsed. Fumbling in the dark, he unfastened the restraints.
'Illy too, please,' I begged as I soothed my wrists, rubbed raw. I sensed the shadow move towards Illy.
Shadows swirled before my closed eyes as I fought the head spin caused by sitting up quickly after weeks of being forced to lie in a bed. I swung my legs off the bed, and holding the rail for balance, I fought to steady myself. After a few moments, I stood. I was weak, my muscles unused and wasted. My stomach protesting from the surgery.
Illy was awake and alert in an instant.
'Thank you, Carl,' I heard her whisper.
'I'm sorry, Illyria. I never meant for it to be like this. Go. Quickly. I won't be able to stop them from coming after you. You need to leave… now.'
Ashton steered us out of the room in the dark, and we staggered like newborn foals down a short corridor to an external door, using the walls to support ourselves. Pushing us through before he changed his mind, I heard the door close firmly behind us and an audible click. Illy's hand found mine in the dim light.
'Come on. See the trees? We need the cover. Let's go.'
Moving sluggishly, our bodies weakened from weeks in a bed, we staggered down the path into the woods. My body was unresponsive, further hindered by the effects of a strong sedative. Tripping and stumbling over tree roots, I wanted to lie down and sleep, but Illy dragged me along. We couldn't be captured now. Biting my lip as hard as I could, I tasted blood through the pain. Focus on that, I told myself as my lip started to swell. We cannot go back there. That would break me. To come so close to freedom, but being recaptured? I vowed, even as I floundered, I would never let them take me.
Illy guided me to the dome, and we followed the perimeter to the hatch and let ourselves out. Dawn light started tinting the horizon a pale silver grey.
'We need to move,' she urged as I tripped and stumbled, unable to control my numbed limbs. 'They will work out we are gone soon and will send someone out to look for us. They will know exactly where we have gone, and we are easy to find. It is kilometres from the harbour. We have nowhere to hide out here.'
Walking as fast as we could, barefoot, the open backs of our hospital gowns flapping around us, we watched the sky slowly change colour before us as we puffed from our lack of fitness, our bodies aching from weeks of inactivity. My muscles feeling heavy from the sedative, but I could feel the raw sensation around my wrists and ankles, skin rubbed off in places. The crisp breeze numbed my bare back and legs, although my face was hot and swollen. My stomach ached like a knife stabbing me from the inside out, but we pushed on. Sticking to the forest edge, we moved as fast as we could, fearful of the ominous sound of a drone sent to track us.
As the sun brightened the sky, a broken-down silvered wooden fence marked the boundary of a residential property ahead of us. Fields of once waist-high grass, now brown
and rotting, fenced into fields. As we neared the house site in the distance, déjà vu washed over me. The dilapidated buildings. The dead forest behind.
'Illy!' I stopped dead. 'I know where I am. This is the farm.'
'The one where they tried to eat you and Cam?'
'That one. We had bikes when they attacked us. E-bikes. They will be flat now. But we can ride a hell of a lot faster than we can walk in bare feet.'
Illy paused. 'It is a great idea, and I don't see we have much choice. Do you have any idea where they are?'
'None at all,' I admitted. 'We walked back to Inverness. We forgot about the bikes in the horror, just speechless that we had survived. It wasn't until later that we remembered. The risk is that Clava took them when they investigated.'
Illy pondered that as we entered the wooden front gate, hanging onto the ground from one rusted old hinge. 'Perhaps, but I think unlikely. They sent a forensics team. I recall reading the reports. They weren't looking for equipment. After all, they have their pick of anything they want in Inverness. Why take two bikes that aren't worth much?'
'Well, they are worth a bit to me right now. The only risk is, they hit us with a slingshot. We fell and dropped the bikes. They might be damaged.'
'Fair enough. But we need to try. They will soon realise we are gone.'
'Should we rest a bit and hide here for the day?' I asked as we made our way up the overgrown path of weeds and death, watching where we stood in our bare feet. 'Not that I want to stay here, of course, but they might not think to look here.' Even seeing the house from the road gave me flashbacks of the time spent here years ago. I had never forgotten the horrors of this place. The smells. Finding Cam hanging like a carcass from a meat hook, drenched in his own blood.
'No. If we aren't back at the Eurydice, they will be there waiting for us, and then we won't get away. I don't think we have it in us to walk or even ride to the next town with a decent-sized boat. I have no idea where the nearest harbour even is.'