by JT Lawrence
Lots of pipes too, plugging into the adjoining locked-up block-shaped building that houses the processors. Giant waterpipes empty of the very thing that is the reason for their existence. Kate can feel the dryness of this place inside her body, as if the scorch has travelled into her bones. She trips over a piece of sunburnt rubber – made clumsy by her protective boots – and Seth catches her arm before she tips forward into the sand.
“You okay?”
She nods and lets go of his arm. She’s breathing hard. Despite the filter over her nose and mouth, Kate can smell the ashy decay.
They make their way up the front steps and into the black innards of the silo, and blink, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the low light. It’s quiet. Too quiet. She looks at the time on her Helix: 17:04.
“There’s nobody here.” Kate’s voice would echo if she weren’t wearing a mask.
They step away from the stream of afternoon light that is like a golden laser coming from a crack in the exterior wall. It’s safer in the shadows.
Seth needs his hands free, and the small, unconscious body cannot stand. Kate collects some offscourings from around her and packs it close together to form a small bank against the wall: a nest of detritus. A legless chair, a planter, a few bricks. There is nothing soft. Seth lays the mini hazmat suit bundle down inside the shallow cardboard box on the top. Mally’s little body looks so lonely; vulnerable. Kate forces her thoughts to Silver.
The silence is heavy on her ears, as if she’s underwater, and everything is greyscale. It feels like a dream, but Kate can tell from the bubbling in her stomach it’s not. She looks at Seth and the sleeping boy. The cool mint of their suits pops against the charcoal surroundings. Will this be their last hour?
The deep quiet gives way to a faraway buzzing, like a swarm of bees, in the distance. A few seconds later it becomes clear that it’s a Volanter, and that its on its way to them. They creep along the silo wall to look outside and watch it approach, and the elegant chopper whips up red sand as it lands. Rich sunshine glints off the Volanter’s black carapace. The engine whines as it shuts down, causing Kate’s insides to contract. She’s as ready as she’s ever going to be. She reaches for her gun.
A man opens the horizontal-hinged door of the craft and jumps out. He’s freakishly tall, wearing a foil space-suit, replete with bubble mask. He extends his arm towards the hatch. A woman, wearing the same uniform, takes his hand and pounces onto the wasted ground. The pilot stays inside, seemingly ready to take off again. Kate can’t see Silver. Is she in the aircraft? It’s a scene from Mars, with the shimmering hot red soil – bad and barren. As they lope towards the silo, Kate recognises the confident gait of the woman. Despite her bubble helmet, it’s clearly the same person who led Mally away at the RoboPup show. She’s wearing the same bright red lipstick as before, but she’s not smiling today. Kate’s grasp tightens on her revolver. She wishes she had the foresight to apply some sweat-ex on her palms. Her latex gloves are already slippery on the inside.
The silver-suited couple comes through the entrance and the pair blinks into the darkness, then their eyes rest on Kate and Seth’s guns, which are pointed right at them. The woman lifts her palms to them in elegant surrender. And there it is, thinks Kate, as the woman’s lips curl into her trademark smile. Unholy Ruby. As if she is constantly amused by the havoc she wreaks. Kate’s trigger-finger tingles with fury. How she’d like to just blow a hole in that space-suit, the closer to that smile, the better. In between the eyes would be a good start. Or, more fittingly, a good ending.
“You can put those down,” the woman says, motioning at the weapons. Her helmet has some kind of speaker that amplifies her voice, making it crisp and clear, not like their chunky hospital hazmat masks that swallow their words.
“Why would we do that?” asks Seth.
“A gesture of good faith,” she says. “We are not armed.”
They won’t fall for that one again.
“Not going to happen,” says Seth.
If she’s put out by his refusal, she doesn’t show it.
“Mister Denicker. Staring down a barrel of a gun is not a good way to begin our…negotiations.”
Kate judders her gun at her. “What is there to negotiate?”
“You’ve got something we want – ”
“Not something. Not some-thing,” says Kate. “He’s my son. He’s a fucking human being.”
“In your eyes, perhaps,” she says.
“The fuck does that mean?”
“He’s a Genesis Baby, Kate.” The woman slants her head, shrinks her smile. Kate hates the way her name sounds when it comes from this cretin’s mouth. “Silver is your real child. Silver is the one you’re here to save. Mally is nothing but a…a science experiment.”
“How dare you?”
“An ill-advised experiment. Ethically wrong, and morally reprehensible. It should never have happened, but God is a forgiving master, and He knows that we are correcting the mistake. When we are finished here, he will forgive you too.”
“Mally is not a ‘mistake’.”
“Naturally you’re attached to him. That’s understandable. You’ve been brainwashed, after all.”
“We’re not the ones who’ve been brainwashed,” says Seth.
“We can help you to see the Truth.”
Kate’s trigger finger is burning now, crackling with heat. She has to keep calm. She has to keep calm if she wants to ever see Silver again.
“You’re the one killing people – killing children! – to appease an imaginary god, and you think Mally’s an abomination?” Kate’s anger shakes her voice.
“Where is he?” the woman in foil says, casting her gaze around the darkness. “I hope you’ve not wasted our time. I hope you’ve not been stupid.” But then her eyes zero in on the contents of the box and her smile returns.
“Oh, how perfect,” she says, taking a step forward and craning her neck. “You’ve packed him for us, all ready to go. Is he sleeping?”
“Don’t you come any closer,” says Seth, stepping in the way.
“Where’s Silver?”
“Silver is safe. For now.”
“You said that if we brought Mally, you’d give us our daughter back.”
“And we will.”
“Now,” says Seth. “Give her back now, or the deal is off.”
Ruby lipstick produces a sword from a hidden sheath on her thigh. The steel had been camouflaged by the colour of the suit. A glinting magic trick. She tosses it from hand to hand and swirls it in quick circles in front of her chest. The swordplay gets faster and faster until the blade becomes a blur. Her partner, still and silent until now, pulls out his gun with a practised motion. No showmanship, no noise, just steady confidence. How many people has he killed?
Chapter 57
Foils vs Mints
They stand there in the dark silo, facing each other. Two foils versus two mints, armed and poised to fight.
“Give him to me,” says Ruby.
“Who are you working for?” asks Kate. “Solonne?”
Kate wants to wipe the amused look off her face for good.
“Solonne?” She smirks. “No.”
“Who, then?”
“I answer to God,” she says.
“The Resurrectors,” says Seth.
The man takes aim at Seth, who returns the favour.
“Of course, the Resurrectors,” the woman says. “Always the Resurrectors. We are the militant arm of God. We are God’s Army.”
“You’re nothing but bloodthirsty terrorists.”
“Sometimes God needs terrorists.”
Kate points her gun at the woman’s head, puts some pressure on the trigger. A dark part of her wants to blow her brains into that bubble mask.
“I’m not leaving here without him,” she says.
“Then you’re not leaving here,” says Kate.
She looks directly at Kate. Growls at her. “Give the boy to me or I’ll come and get him.”
“Then come and get him,” says Seth, sweeping his barrel from the man to the woman and shooting her in the chest. The sound of the shot rings out through the silo and echoes wildly, crashing Kate’s vision. She expects the woman to fall, but the shot just knocks her back a few paces. Everyone in the silo knows that bullets are no match for arachnasilk. She’s breathing loudly: the shot struck the air out of her. She spins her sword again and advances on Seth. He shoots at her again, but this time she jumps away from the blast. Once Kate can see past the noise of the second shot, she aims her revolver at the woman, to back up Seth, but the tin-suited man has her in his gun’s sights. The second it takes to switch targets is the second he uses to pull his own trigger, and she’s flattened by a hard, hot bullet to the shoulder. She’s splayed onto the dusty floor, and her senses explode with electric blue. Her revolver skates away from her, into the shadows.
“Kate!” shouts Seth, looking at her. The woman takes advantage of the distraction and with one quick motion she shears his hazmat suit wide open. He grabs the cut sides of the yawning suit with one hand and forces them together. Kate pictures the invisible radiation seeping in like mustard gas. Ruby advances on him again, swishes her blade, but he ducks out of the way.
Kate’s shoulder is on fire. She can’t tell yet if the bullet pierced the kevlar, but the neon zinging in her head tells her damage has certainly been done. The man is standing over her, his face expressionless, awaiting Ruby’s order to finish her off. Kate scrambles backwards on her hands and butt, the pain zipping through her whole body. A glance over at Seth tells her they’re now in full combat mode: she’s swerving away from his bullets, bouncing and slicing, and he’s doing what he can to dodge her keen blade.
When will he begin to get sick? When will she? There’s a hole in her suit too.
Her attacker follows her progress calmly through the sight of his weapon; he knows he’s won this battle. She keeps scrambling, and he keeps following. She’s a metre away from her gun. What is he waiting for? But she knows the answer.
“Get the boy!” shouts Ruby.
The man finally looks away from her, and she is able to grab her revolver and fire at him. Bang! Bang! Bang! She gets three shots off before he’s even noticed. One bullet misses and ricochets off the wall. One is embedded in the man’s suit, and one smashes his bubble mask. He steps back, in surprise, and Kate jumps up and high-kicks him in the chest. She expects it to hurt her shoulder like hell but the yellow adrenaline is painting over the blue and she feels as if she can walk over coals if it would mean defeating these terrible people and getting her daughter back.
The man can’t see properly through his silver-shattered mask and he stumbles forward, trying to cover the hole with one hand and aim his gun with the other.
“Get the boy!” Ruby shouts again, as Seth manages to grab hold of her sword. She doesn’t let go and they wrestle for it. The man stumbles again, gun swinging from side to side, trying to see past his frosted visor. At that moment, the boy sits up in the box, his bespoke hazmat gear a beacon against the shadow wall, and the man lifts his gun and shoots, riddling the small body with bullets.
Chapter 58
A New Kind of Smile
The man empties his magazine into the small body. The slugs are hollow-pointed, designed to cause maximum damage, and they tear into the torso and face, blasting it back into the cardboard cot, out of sight.
“You bastard!” shouts Kate, emptying her own bullets into the Resurrector. This time she aims them all at his head, hoping to crack his mask completely and open the suit up to the radioactive gas that surrounds them. The superglass holds around the original hole, but his mask is now opaque with the scars. A face cataract.
Seth and the woman are still fighting over the sword. Kate aims her revolver at her, but they’re moving too quickly and her hands are slippery from the sweat inside her gloves. The only vulnerability of the space-suit, as far as she can see, is the throat area, but she doesn’t have the confidence to shoot and not hit Seth.
“Is the boy dead?” The woman is panting. The man doesn’t answer. “Is he dead?”
Kate wonders if he talks at all. Maybe his microphone is broken.
“Get him,” Ruby lipstick says. “As proof. Bring a part of him.” She’s Snow White’s evil stepmother, demanding the hunter bring back her heart.
The man staggers unseeingly, and Kate sticks her foot out to trip him. He pitches forward, tries to steady himself, but fails. As soon as his weapon-holding hand clatters to the floor Kate jumps on it, forcing him to bellow and release the gun, which she grabs. She aims both of them at the woman, but it’s no use, because it’s not safe for Seth. The man roars in outrage and frustration at not being able to see, and he wrests his bubble helmet off his head, and takes a deep breath of the toxic air.
Seth pries the sword from Ruby’s hands, and she dashes away from him, towards the torn-up body. Just as he brandishes the blade, he doubles over, opens his breathing filter, and splashes vomit on the ground.
The tall man tries to stand up but he’s disorientated, and he falls back down again. His nose gushes, staining the floor with red spatter. Seth heaves again, then loses his balance. They’ve got to get out of there. Get to hospital. But if they let the Resurrectors go, how will they find Silver?
Kate grabs the sword from Seth and goes after the woman, but she’s too late. She reaches her just as she’s lifting the maimed body out of the box with a horrified expression on her face. A leg dangles, semi-detached. Ruby realises then that the small body is not Mally, but his printed body double.
She throws down the shredded silicone, her cheeks flush with fury.
Kate lifts the sword and cuts the woman’s throat. Crimson blood, made luminous by the sunset, spills out of the gash. A new kind of smile. The woman grabs her wounded neck with both hands, and the red liquid peaks through her fingers. Her eyes are on fire.
Kate, shocked by what she’s done, drops the sword, and the woman grabs it almost before it hits the floor. She backs away from Kate, reverses to exit. Blood streams from the long gash. Her partner, his face now the colour of the concrete floor, sees her leaving and puts out his hand for help. She can’t take both him and the sword; she chooses the sword. As she trips out into the dusk outside, the beetle-black Volanter starts up again, its blades chopping up the evening air.
Kate wants to go after her. She’s overcome with violent urges to hurt those who are hurting her family. She wants to tackle her, slam her to the ground, pin her down with her knees and jam a gun into her cheek. Force the truth out of her. Force her to tell her where Silver is.
There’s a sagging sound behind her that jerks her thoughts back to Seth. He has slumped to the ground; his light has gone out. Kate looks again at the Volanter: the woman is helped aboard by the pilot. It’s Kate’s last chance to go after them, to find Silver. Seth’s body spills over the floor. He’ll die if she leaves him here.
Chapter 59
Dangerous Cheekbones
Kate drags Seth’s unconscious body out of the silo to the soundtrack of the vanishing Volanter. Despite them being twins and having very similar builds, he seems to weigh double, and her injured shoulder doesn’t make the job any easier. He’s groaning, as if he’s trying to wake, trying to break through the veil of sleep, but this just causes him to vomit more, and Kate worries he’ll choke or drown. She’s out of shape, and there’s limited oxygen in the suit, so she has to take breaks every few metres. The slow progress is maddening. Every extra minute she takes is a minute that Seth gets sicker, and that Silver seems more lost to them.
Eventually she makes it to the car, panting and coughing, and uses the last of her energy to lever him, with a groan, into the back seat. She gets in after him and closes the door. The cab purrs with ignition.
“Turing – ” She huffs, so relieved to be back inside the cabin. It’s like the embrace of a friend.
“I am at your service.”
“Get out of here
,” she says. “Get out of this place.”
The car reverses on its tracks. “What is your required destination?”
But Kate doesn’t know. Back to the hospital? Themba made it clear that anyone with radiation poisoning is turned away. But if not them, then who? It was risky, it would take an hour, and looking at Seth’s vitals on his SnapTile, they don’t have that much time.
“Where do you take the Zama-zamas?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” says the car. “Where can I take you?”
Kate pulls off her protective mask.”The people you bring here.”
“I don’t bring people here. The Red Zone is off limits.”
The self-driving taxis are linked to the same network; they ‘talk’ to each other.
“What about other Cabbies?”
The car hesitates. She’s wasting her time. Zama-zamas wouldn’t take cabs, they’d have their own cars, old communal mini-bus taxis with their seats sawn off with angle-grinders and plenty of space to pack their loot.
“Where do they take them afterwards? What is the most common route from this spot – this hole in the palisade – to somewhere nearby. A shacktown, maybe.”
“Gugulethu/Everest is an informal settlement,” says the car. “There is a common route recorded on hijacked cabs to the business premises of a Mister Zeebee.”
“Mister Zeebee?” What’s that? An arcade, maybe. Or a dumping site. The place they go to before they get arrested. Self-driving cab companies take the theft of their vehicles seriously. Kate starts stripping down. “Let’s go.”
While the cab drives, Kate asks her Helix to talk her through how to care for someone with radiation sickness.
“Start by removing all contaminated garments,” it says.
Kate peels Seth’s hazmat and bullet-proof suits off him and throws them out the window. She does the same to her own clothes, wincing as she pulls her Kevlarskin off her injured shoulder. The bastards shot her in the same arm she’d broken during the motorbike accident four years ago. Same arm, same electric blue pain. The car’s air-conditioning is cold against her bare, goose-pimpled skin. She pulls on a jacket from her backpack.