“Oh—good timing,” Sampson throws an encouraging glance over. “We were just about to go…”
“Sorry, Fallon,” Reid shakes his head, “not tonight.”
“Why?”
“Just not tonight, okay? I need to talk to Sampson about some things. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“We’ll reschedule,” Sampson frowns, Reid already ushering them away. They head for the stairs up to the Courtyard, neither looking back. What could be so important that they need to talk now? It must be important. Otherwise it would’ve waited…
“Weird,” Able mumbles next to me.
“Do all RCs keep sirollas? Or is it just Reid?”
“No, we all do,” he opens his sleeve pocket, where the Dofinikes have been keeping the pills. Retrieving the same clear sphere, he holds it up, “In case there’s an emergency and we have to get into someone’s room.”
“Mind if I borrow it?”
He frowns. “Why?”
“I just—I need to. You’ll get it back tomorrow. I promise.”
Reluctant, he hands it over. “Okay, but don’t—”
I take the sirolla and make off after Sampson and Reid, flying up the same darkened stairwell and into the Courtyard after them. Now, would they go to Reid’s to discuss or would Sampson’s be safer? A thought hits me—perhaps they’re not going to either. Perhaps they’re going back to Camp. Can I make the journey by myself?
But then I spot them.
Five flights up.
I take off and am on their floor in less than a minute. Slowing, I approach Sampson’s door. Grasping the sirolla in my right hand I pause, holding it in the air. Is this right? What I’m about to do? Walking right into his room, into their discussion, demanding to know what’s going on? What if I’m not supposed to know? What if it’s terrible? A million questions race through my mind as the intent of my original mission gets blurred. I came here with a dogged pursuit. And that was…
To learn the truth.
My hand shakes, the sirolla jerking slightly as I hold it close to the crimson archway. Suddenly, thousands of tiny white hairs extend from the sphere, latching themselves to the door. Six blocks of symbols snap back, locking into place and the door opens.
I rush in, hearing one word. The word, which takes a moment to register, is like an afterthought; a dessert to be considered later, after the present entrée is consumed. And it’s taking me a moment to digest what I see—
Pacing, on one side of the closet-sized room is Reid, flabbergasted by my appearance. On the other end, towering high above him, looms an unfamiliar Dofinike who stares at me with wide, surprised eyes. He’s enormous, nearly the same size as Tetlak, but he doesn’t exude the same pompous, threatening stance. This Dofinike looks rather puzzled, like he’s forgetting some obvious etiquette. He takes a step toward me but I back up instinctively, kicking into survival mode again.
I don’t have time to scream.
Reid is on me in an instant, one hand over my mouth, the other wrapped around my waist, keeping me from fleeing. He pulls me toward him as we fall to our knees, the door slamming shut. His hand tightens as he repeats the word from before, sitting me up to look at the Dofinike.
“Sampson.”
Chapter Fifteen: Sampson
I don’t understand.
Reid’s got his arms locked around me like a steel cage, my chest heaving under his inch-proof grip. But I’m imagining it. I must be. There’s no way I’m seeing what I am.
The Dofinike’s whiskers slowly retract on themselves, zipping up to disappear in the morphing flap of skin covering his face. Dark pine seconds ago, it fades to fleshy tan as his yellow, reptilian eyes retake the friendly robin’s egg blue I’ve grown fond of seeing.
Is it really true?
Is this Dofinike Sampson?
I want to scream. I want to scream it all out. All the lies, all the secrets. A moment ago, a Dofinike was in this room and now, it’s only us three.
“Fallon,” he tries, stepping toward me, “let me explain.”
Squirming under Reid’s grip, I’m confused why I’m reacting this way. I trust Sampson. I do. Maybe it’s too much right now. Maybe with everything else going on, I was hoping Sampson would be the one constant. The one thing to keep the fight going. But with this new development, I’m not sure he’s even part of the fight anymore.
Reid’s grip on me tightens.
“Relax,” he whispers in my ear. “It’s Sampson. Sampson…”
It’s my fault. My punishment for busting in when I wasn’t welcomed, for intruding on a private moment—one I should’ve never known about. He hushes me with his hold, dropping his mouth down by my ear.
“You have to trust me and you have to trust Sampson. He’s on our side,” Reid’s voice creaks at the word. “He’s our inside source.”
Pausing, I try on his meaning. I guess it does sort of make sense. Sampson’s vast knowledge on things, his courageous banter with Tetlak as if there was nothing to fear, as if a Dofinike was not intimidating to him. And why would it be if he’s also one? But why pretend? Why hide it?
“There’s a lot you don’t understand,” Reid says as my eyes shift to Sampson. He’s sitting on his bed, gazing out to the window.
“Fallon,” Sampson looks at me, “we’ve been meaning to tell you our secret for some time. I’m sorry you found out this way—I didn’t think you’d be ready to handle this. Can I trust by your silence that you are?”
Reid’s hand drops from my mouth tentatively, ready to spring back to place if need be. I nod, nearly motionless. This is Sampson. Sampson.
“Very good,” he smiles, redirecting focus to Reid over my shoulder. “It might be best to disclose your side of things before delving into mine, yes?”
Reid offers a quick nod before shifting me toward him. We’re still on the floor, sitting now as Reid’s mouth hangs open, empty words falling out. He closes his mouth, reforms his thoughts and starts again.
“I told you food dropped into my lap after I left the Kings,” he tilts his head from side to side, “that’s… half true. I went out looking for it first. Had to find a way to feed everyone…” he clears his throat, taking a minute to compose himself. “The night I left, I waited until midnight, when I knew everyone was back in their rooms and Tetlak and the guards were upstairs. I took off through the gate and into the jungle like you,” he glances at me momentarily, “but… I didn’t make it as far. I fell into a Plausinis bush. Got shot with enough venom to kill me. I was…” he nods, the details of the scene reforming behind his eyes, “…done for. Or, would’ve been… if Sampson here hadn’t found me,” Reid tosses a gracious smile to his friend.
“But isn’t the gate rigged?”
Reid nods. “And I was tagged. But Sampson removed it. And I knew I could trust him. Whatever he told me….” Reid pauses, his mind running away with him again, to another time. Eyes glazed in the distance, he continues after a second. “He showed me the tunnels out, how to escape the Castle, how and where to gather food. For a while,” Reid nods, admitting it, “we were feeding the Rogues and Scouts. Every night after Leisure Time, we’d head out, gathering Gupples and Marowines for hours and bring them back. Finally,” he rubs his hands through his hair, “Clark and Vix started coming with us. They knew Sampson’s secret too. There was debate in telling Pratt… but we needed all the help we could get.
“If it wasn’t for Sampson, for his knowledge…” Reid throws him a thankful smile, “for his humanity, the Rogues would’ve been done. We wouldn’t have had a way to pay our Scouts, our Clients… we would’ve starved.”
With this he looks to Sampson again, whose focus has drifted to the window. The last statement hangs in the air as a long, silent moment passes. What’s he waiting for? Does he still think I can’t take the truth?
“Why are you pretending to be human?” I ask.
“I have no choice,” Sampson continues to gaze out the window.
“What do you mean? How can you
have no choice?”
“It’s very easy when you’re overruled, you see,” his words are slow, giving each one the attention it deserves. “The obligations you must keep. I’m here, on Harrizel, taking the form of a human because I must. Because it is the will of my life to be bound to your kind, rather than mine,” a subtle tinge of anger hangs at his last word. “So believe me, Fallon,” he concludes, finally turning to look upon me with a heavy, morose gaze I don’t expect, “while I do enjoy your company, I’m here out of necessity rather than preference.”
“But why?”
“It’s our own fault. Our love for your kind,” he glances between Reid and I, then back to the window and the captivating night, a sight he seems to sink further into. “Clarence and I didn’t mean for it to happen. Any of it. Truth be told, we were too arrogant—too superior—to accept the obvious risk involved. As if it couldn’t touch us, as if we were out of its reach…
“It started off innocently enough, as most things do,” Sampson shifts ever so slightly, his robin’s egg eyes fixated on some point lost in the sky, “when we first learned of you. A culture so vastly different from our own but then, so very much the same. What were you strange creatures and why had your fate been so irrevocably intertwined with ours?” at this he offers us a glance, as if still trying to figure it out. “But we were young—what did we know of life? Of consequences…” he nearly whispers the last word, his eyes returning to that same point outside. A long, quiet moment and then, “We started bringing you back.”
“In the beginning, it was just a few and only those who’d die otherwise,” he glances at us again, to make sure we understood his meaning. “What good are you as rotting corpses when here, you could have a second chance? We only took those already lost to that life—we gave them a new one. We thought we were doing the right thing,” a large lump rolls down his throat. “Soon, with so many humans, a small colony began, thriving alongside the Dofinikes. We were friends… some of us family. It was wonderful really… but then it all changed.”
The Ruins. I feel them now, feel their pull as Sampson talks about it. My heart’s beating with excitement, anticipation but I force myself to sit and wait. It’s his turn to talk.
“The Leaders found out what we’d done. It was treason, with the prophecy…”
“Prophecy?” The word slips from my mouth.
“The risk,” Sampson nods, “what causes your kind to be irrevocably intertwined with ours—the prophecy sullio pf ticrocki gagazinoff—human conquering Dofinike. It’s known throughout our people—our world. You see,” he says, taking a heavy breath, “within the Dofinike culture, we are all related. Not in the family dynamic you’re accustomed to. We have that, yes, but also, our species is related to one another. With every new Dofinike born, we strengthen individually. With every one deceased, we weaken. We are related to one another on more than just a physical level. It is one of the spirit,” he waits a moment for me to digest his meaning. “So the prophecy of human conquering Dofinike—to some—has been depicted as a war against the Dofinikes by the humans.” Again, he waits for it to sink in, unleashing the horror I know to follow. “So, when the Leaders found our colony, Reuzkimpart ordered the immediate cleansing.”
At this, Sampson lowers his head, his words hanging in the air.
There’s so much I want to ask. So much that needs clarifying. The thoughts all jumble into each other, fighting for the front of the line. Finally, I blurt out the first question that drops to my mouth. “Who’s Reuzkimpart?”
Sampson glances up. “One of the Leaders. Curiously enough, the one who discovered the prophecy. The rest of the Leaders weren’t receptive to the idea of killing the humans at first. Reuzkimpart—out of cowardice—convinced them it was best for Dellapalania.” As if anticipating my question, Sampson answers automatically. “Dellapalania is our home planet. Harrizel—here,” he glances around the bunker, taking in its sordid sight, “this is a moon. Supposedly Moon of Hope, but who knows what that means anymore?”
Sampson glances out the window again, “With Reuzkimpart’s persuasion and the threat of the prophecy, the rest of the Leaders agreed and ordered the extermination of all humans,” his words soften as he considers what he’s saying. “Generations of families lost. Friendships, all shattered forever… I’d been labeled a traitor, aiding the humans who were here to conquer us. Conquer us?” he repeats to himself, seeing the scenes replaying in his head. “The humans were massacred. Children. Elderly. And I was the traitor?
“Only Blovid—one of the other Leaders—had any sense. He’d been against the extermination from the beginning but Reuzkimpart had everyone convinced. Somehow, Blovid managed to persuade the others to stop, to see the malevolent slaughter of their actions, but by the time they agreed to halt, there weren’t many left. Clarence was missing and only a handful of humans were found, most badly injured. It was decided the remaining humans would be spared, but have their memories erased. They’d be put to work in what would now be used as a research base, until finding a better use for them. It was done. All humans forgot what happened and were put to work under a clever lie Reuzkimpart and Beshib devised. All aiding Dofinikes were to share the same fate, to become slaves, working alongside the humans they so deeply cared for.”
It takes a moment but with all the obvious questions still hanging, Sampson goes on.
“Clarence came back of course. He’d never admit where he’d gone—what he did. For his resistance, he was given an especially cruel task—to bring all new humans here, to a fate unbeknownst to us. You see, in the last few years, Reuzkimpart has ordered more and more humans to be brought over. But why? What’s the point unless you’re being utilized for something? And he’s not having Clarence select the humans like we did—only rescuing those who have no other way out. Clarence has a quota,” Sampson sighs at the idea, “he must bring a certain amount of humans here, delivering them to a knowing lie...” he stops, pausing and looking up at us with grief in his eyes, “Can you imagine what that must be like for him?”
“So the war…?” I ask.
He shakes his head, “Never happened. No, you’re here on Harrizel because they want you to be. Because you serve some purpose. One,” he turns to me, “even I don’t know.”
Then it’s true. All the conspiracies, all the lies—I’ve been right this whole time. But there’s so much to take in, so much to grasp. The Dofinike prophecy. The near genocide here on Harrizel. The ruins. My connection to it all… to what Sampson described. Why didn’t Reid tell me about any of it?
“Fallon,” Sampson’s weak voice continues, “I wish there was nothing else to reveal…”
Holding my hand up, I signal for silence. Sampson obeys the request, glancing at Reid who seems content on the direction of the conversation. Finally, after a deep exhale, I nod.
“Vix is also a Dofinike.”
“And Clark?” I croak. I’m not sure I could take Clark as a ten-foot tall power happy reptilian.
“No, no,” Sampson shakes his head. “Clark is like Reid and yourself, a clever but curious human.”
“Don’t know about clever…” I mumble under my breath, sorting through my thoughts before looking up, “…and Pratt knows all this too?”
Sampson nods.
“There are so many things I want to know.”
“Of course,” Sampson nods, “how could you not?”
I run through my checklist quickly, finding my key clues. “The prophecy?” I try, causing Sampson’s brows to rise. I go on, fueled by the energy in the air, “You mentioned a Dofinike prophecy.”
“Shall we accept discussing another time?” his face scrunches in disappointment. “There’s really too much to reveal and this is not,” he glances around, “the ideal location.”
“You talked about connectedness. Stronger and weaker.”
“Good questions Fallon and definitely discussions needing to be had but ideally…”
“Explain it again,” I demand, “real qu
ick. I don’t understand what you mean by spiritual. Like you know what each Dofinike knows?”
“Something like that,” he shrugs, “like we can sense what others are sensing. A connection to one another.”
“Tied to memories?” I probe further.
Sampson shifts uncomfortably, “Yes, at times. But it’s mostly used for present communication. For instance,” he sighs, “Clarence informed me his shipments will start increasing.”
“Increasing?” Reid and I exchange nervous glances.
Sampson nods. “They’ve doubled his quota.”
“And we have no idea what for?” Reid tries. “Has Clarence heard anything? Has Beshib told him anything?”
“Nothing,” Sampson shakes his head, “except to bring more.”
“And does… Jothkore… know anything?” I try, quickly attempting to catch up with their level of knowledge.
“No,” Sampson shakes his head. “He’s only an upstairs guard. He wouldn’t know.”
“How many guards are there?” I ask.
“Not as many as you’d think. Not as many Dofinikes on this base as they’d want you to think. They make it all too easy for you, actually. What with your real memories here, I’d imagine—”
“Our memories?” I gasp.
“Oh yes, they’re here…” Sampson glances around, considering his bunker deeply. “Somewhere, on Harrizel.”
“How is that possible?” How is any of this possible?”
“It’s the same way the other pills work,” he quickly explains. “Each pill controls part of your brain. There are pills stored here that contain each of your memories. Each of your past lives.”
“And you have no idea where?” I shift the question between them; hoping one will have the answer. But both shake their heads. “The others need to know.”
“The Rogues?” Reid asks.
“And everyone else. If they knew who they really are, if they knew what was really happening, they’d be more inclined.”
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