The prison was left unguarded at the late hour, as Silhouette had expected, and so she strolled between the rows of cells until she reached her sleeping brother.
Silhouette repeated the button sequence she had witnessed the previous day and the slot opened. She slipped her package into the slot and then hit the button that closed it. Davi woke at the sound and looked at the package as if he was seeing something that was not quite there, or should not have been.
She stood in front of his cell, watching him rub at his eyes and blinking to clear them. Davi took no notice of his sister as he poked at the package, and then he opened it with one finger, seeing the note and pulling it to his eyes.
Eat this. Stay strong. I will bring more. Signed, a friend.
Silhouette watched with a heavy heart as Davi grabbed the food and devoured it. She took off her headpiece, letting loose her white hair.
Davi consumed every last crumb, reveling in the taste. The note caught his attention again and so he grabbed it and studied it, tracing the handwriting with his fingers. Sue placed a hand on the cell wall and she started to cry. Davi crumbled up the small piece of paper into a tiny ball and ate that too, and then looked out in her direction. She looked into his eyes and noticed that there was something different in them, different then yesterday after she watched him eat his gelatin brick. He leaned back and kept his eyes open, looking upward, pondering. Susan watched him until he fell asleep again, then she put on her headpiece and returned to her dwelling.
This continued for weeks. Silhouette did not communicate with Davi, other than the occasional note which encouraged him to build his strength, and she continued to watch him. One day, when his cell light had turned green, he refused his meal brick, but, like the woman Silhouette had witnessed before, he had become overwhelmed by a gut-wrenching pain. Eating the bland bar was the only relief.
Silhouette continued to feed her brother and soon Davi’s eyes no longer glazed over, instead they shined with life. He eagerly awaited his nightly package and spoke to his anonymous gift giver through the slot when it was opened. His voice was deeper than she remembered, rougher, and it melted her heart. She was unsure how to respond to him so she avoided it, as painful as it was to do so.
One night Davi grabbed her fingers as she put the food into his cell, and he held tight, demanding that she speak.
“Davi,” she said.
“You know my name?” he replied. “Who are you?”
“Davi,” She caressed the tips of his fingers with her thumb. “It’s Sue. Your choti behan.”
“My little sister?” Davi bent at the waist and lowered himself as much as he could in the tight cell. It was uncomfortable, but he managed to get low enough to see out of the slot. “Show me.”
She crouched down to be even with Davi’s face. Silhouette slowly peeled off her headpiece, revealing her cinnamon eyes and white skin which glowed blue in the chamber’s light. “Davi. I…”
“Sue. How? We thought you were gone. I missed you so…you have to get out of here. What are you doing?”
“Davi, it’s ok. I’m here to help. I’ll catch you up on the details another time, but I’m capable of handling myself. I’m safe. Don’t worry. Uh… you. You look so…old. And tired.”
“Yeah, thanks. You have a couple of extra creases around those red eyes yourself.” Davi stood up and rubbed his shoulder. “Going to get a crick in my neck if I stay down there any longer.”
Sue put her headpiece back on, but remained crouched at the slot to chat. “How long have you been locked up?”
“Maybe a week before you left me that first note. I don’t know for sure. They caught me a few times sneaking away from work, but I guess this last time was my final strike. Might as well live as a slave somewhere else. Wouldn’t be any different.”
“Why would you start acting up? What were you doing?”
“Spending time at Baap’s grave. Well, the landfill where they throw the bodies.”
“Dad’s dead?” Her eyes welled up. She was not prepared for that.
“Since a year ago. The two of us were in Vix together on a supply run and some guy grabbed a bag of food off of our cart, so I chased him down and tackled him. Punched him a few times and took the bag back from him but I guess a Burmin on the road saw the whole thing. It ran over and grabbed me and took the bag out of my hand. I guess Dad came up from behind and tried to pull the Burmin off of me and we all started shouting a bunch of crap at each other. The Burmin swung his arm around and clocked dad in the head. He was knocked unconscious and went into a coma, and a few days later I was told that he was dead. I don’t think the Burmin tried very hard to save him.”
“I, uh…” Silhouette turned away from Davi and leaned her back against his cell. A decade of hope and planning and he was already dead; her father was gone, both of her parents were, all because of the Burmin. Tears blurred her vision and she could not decide whether to grit her teeth or let loose the sobs that swelled inside of her. She put a hand over her mouth to hold in the cries. Her thermal sight detected a body marching down the corridor toward the prison entrance and all emotion drained from her in an instant. Silhouette turned back to her brother. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Davi.”
“Sue, wait!” And the slot closed. Silhouette melted into the shadows and the Burmin entered the room. She sidled along the walls and slipped through the doorway as the Burmin inspected the prisoners. It was not until she returned to the crawlspace that she allowed her tears to fall freely.
* * *
During the weeks since Silhouette had first entered the prison, more humans had been locked into the cells. She had witnessed multiple occasions where unconscious bodies were dragged through the corridors and heaved into their solitary confinements. She continued to return to the prison with meals for her brother. As time went on she started to feel the eyes of the other prisoners watching her as she walked between the cells, and she often glanced over her shoulder expecting to see them all staring at her. They could not see her, she knew. It was her own conscience staring her down from inside of the cells, filling her with guilt, making her turn to look down at the small amount of food in her hands and question why she had not grabbed more. The people around her were wasting away, either writhing in agony or going insane with boredom, but she could not help them all. Not right now. Not in this way.
Silhouette approached Davi’s cell and saw that he was much different than the others. He was clearly bored as hell, but his mind was still alert, he looked healthy, and his eyes were bright. She could save him; that is what she was capable of. What the hell was the Presider thinking? Sending me on a mission to save a world, to take down a Burmin command ship. Ridiculous. She could save Davi, she had to, and everyone else would have to die if it came down to it.
She opened the slot and slipped the food through.
“When they take you and the other prisoners to the command ship for distribution, I’m coming with you,” she said.
“Don’t be stupid,” said Davi through a mouthful of crunchy vegetables.
“That ship is going down, and I’m going to be the cause of it. You’ll be escaping with me.”
“This isn’t a fairy tale, Sue. You can’t possibly expect to disable the friggin command ship and ride away unscathed like a superhero white knight or something.”
“You don’t know what I have become, Davi. I am not the little girl you grew up with.”
“Yeah, ok,” Davi took another bite of a carrot. “You’re going to get yourself killed and I’ll still be sent off and sold to the highest bidder on some faraway planet. An escape plan I could entertain, but this? Why would you try and take down the command ship?”
“I am just one little cog in one big machine,” said Sue. “All I can do is my task and hope that all of the other gears turn in unison. This is not just about you, or me. I could say more cliché things like all of humanity is on the table and it’s all or nothing, but then I would be mixing my metaphors. Samjha?”
“Good. I want to give you some direction.”
“I can’t do anything, Sue.”
“Yes, you can. You are still strong, so much more than the other prisoners. You can’t see it, but I can. You’re going to need to help me rescue you, Davi. Keep eating everything I give to you, flex whatever muscles you can, and just keep active, somehow. The Burmin are weakening you so that you can’t resist in any way. The other prisoners will be too weak to do anything and I need you to not give up like they have. I need you to be strong. I need you to be ready to act.”
“Well I feel alright, but it’s not like I can do any exercises. I can clench my butt, but what else?”
“Figure it out. Push against your cage. Toe raises. Do math equations in your mind. Anything to keep yourself from deteriorating.”
“Ok, but I don’t know what you’re going to have me do. Those Burmin are strong and I don’t know my way around a spaceship.”
“Don’t worry about any of that until the time comes. When you are taken onto the ship you may not see me, but I’ll be on board with you. In the meantime I’m going to kill the Burmin responsible for dad’s death, so tell me everything you can.”
* * *
Davi did not have a name for the Burmin, of course, because Burmin did not have names, not as far as humans understood. He had enough knowledge of the Burmin’s schedule and position to give his sister a good chance at pinpointing the correct one. The unique vertical slits in the Burmin’s floppy ears made it all too easy once Silhouette crossed Davi’s recollection of the creature with X’s data. Slits. That was what she would call the thing that murdered her father. Slits was as good as dead.
Was it petty? Perhaps, but she needed something to do until the next transfer ship came to take Davi away. No thrills, no frills. She knew that this had to be clean and simple because she was in enemy territory. Blowing her cover and endangering the mission was not an option.
X placed Slits’ office near the qoot field, whatever that was. Silhouette built a plan and fed Davi once more, telling him that he might miss some of his extra meals over the next several evenings.
That night Silhouette moved far down to the opposite end of the compound, staying close to the exterior walls. The qoots were locked in their pens for the night. They were large slug-like creatures, bigger than any livestock she had seen before, and their skin was rough and dry, not slimy like she had expected. A slaughterhouse was located near the pens. Was that the meat she had been eating? Gross.
Just beyond the slaughterhouse was an airfield and Slits had an office overlooking the entire area. Silhouette entered the building, approaching the doorways and stairwells with caution, but there was no one around to see her.
She sat at the Burmin’s desk and thumbed through some files. Her Ocu translated the few words it knew, but it could not translate enough to help Silhouette make sense of any of the information. The Ocu also could not sync with the data system, so how was she going to gain intel when she could not understand a lick of the language or access the digital data? She decided to fall back and figure out her problem in a safer location.
Silhouette moved back outside and crawled into the qoot pens where it was cramped, dirty, and full of buggy little critters— but it was safe, probably. The creatures were docile and did not care to stir while she moved around them. She hid and waited until morning for Slits to arrive at work.
She tracked Slits’ movements throughout the day. Much of the Burmin’s time was spent at its desk, and the rest was used up wandering around the shipping yard and hollering at underlings. It kept to populated spaces, except during its breaks. The Burmin found solitude twice during the day with a smoke in its hand during brief walks in the qoot grazing field. Silhouette had found ample opportunities to strike, but she had to be certain that no one would see her. Patience. She would watch him again tomorrow.
The work day was over and Silhouette crept back into the office after all of the Burmin had left for the night. She once more flipped through the physical files on Silts’ desk, this time recording images of them with her Ocu. She again retreated to the qoot pens. In her seclusion she was able to take her time scanning through the documents. She could understand the Burmin language better spoken than written, so she had her Ocu read the messages verbally in her mind.
Words jumped out that she recognized. Slaves, transfer, move, sell, price. She had heard the language all throughout her young life as a slave to the Burmin. Much of it still made no sense, but some of it had been beaten into her. She had to understand basic commands and quantities of things and calendar dates if she expected to survive. Compiling her information with the little bits her Ocu could visually translate was a complicated puzzle and she spent most of the night putting it together. Her empty stomach only made the task more frustrating and difficult.
As the pieces fell into place, she realized she had found the information she was hoping to discover. The next prisoner transport was scheduled, and she had the date. In three weeks Davi and the others would be taken aboard the Juggernaut where they would be processed and put on transports toward planet Burm. She had the ship’s planned arrival and departure time, as well as its identification number. All she had to do now was wait, but revenge, too, had been put on her schedule. She was not going to simply bide her time while she had the chance to enact vengeance in her father’s name. Slits had hell to pay.
* * *
The next workday began and the darkness hungered for a guilty soul.
Near the day’s end Slits had moseyed outside and lit a smoke. The Burmin had wandered into the field among the grazing qoots, unaware of the stalking eyes in the shadows.
From inside the animal pens, Silhouette let out a belly full of laughter followed by an imitation of hushed chatter, all the while eying the Burmin through a gap in the wall’s wooden slats. Slits stomped out his smoke and then marched toward the conspicuous human sounds to investigate.
“Shh, the Burmin heard us,” Silhouette said to herself. “Hide!”
Slits pulled the barn door fully open, letting a rush of air blow into the pens and causing the Burmin’s sliced ears to swing in the breeze like floppy window blinds. Slits was pudgy, for a Burmin, but still quite imposing. The Burmin grumbled as it walked down a row of pens, peering into the shadows. “Slave,” understood Silhouette, and something like “trouble” or maybe “death” was spat in anger as it pushed aside piles of hay and stacks of empty buckets. A pair of curious qoots moved to the open doorway from the field.
Slits approached the pen in which Silhouette was hiding and sucked in a deep breath of the air, chewing on it like it was tasting for her scent. Her suit bent the gloom that surrounded her, creating a deep shadow, an inconspicuous darkness, and as she lay covered in animal filth she had ensured that any human odor was masked by the wretched stink of the pens themselves. She did not exist. There was only shadow and nothing else.
The Burmin took no notice of her and walked past the pen, unsuspecting of the death which crept behind, stalking her prey. Her footsteps matched the Burmin’s in contact with the ground, but she did so in short leaps, gaining on her victim with every stride. Slits stepped onto a wet cloth which clung to its boot and it shook off the dripping rag, kicking it beside an upturned bucket. Silhouette grabbed the rancid cloth and jumped onto the bucket, using it to pounce onto the Burmin’s upper back. She caught Slits at the end of an exhale and whipped the cloth around its neck, wrenching it tight.
The Burmin’s head turned red. It swung its body around, reaching its arms back to grab Silhouette, but her feet were planted squarely in the middle of its back and her hands pulled up and away out of reach. Slits scraped at the cloth around his throat, its brown liquid dripping down the Burmin’s chest. The air filled with a cloying musk.
Not a sound could escape Slits’ throat, though it tried. The Burmin flu
ng its body around and slammed its back against a post, but Silhouette swung left and dodged most of the impact. Slits tried again, slamming against one of the pen walls, and sensing this Silhouette pulled herself up onto the Burmin’s shoulders and only took a portion of the blow. It stepped forward to try backing into the wall once more. Silhouette jumped back off its shoulders and yanked down with every bit of momentum she had, pulling the Burmin down to the ground and knocking its head against the wall as it fell.
The large Burmin dropped its full weight on top of her, smacking her hard into the ground. She could not breathe. Silhouette held tight onto the cloth, pulling with all of her remaining strength. She would catch her breath eventually, but she wanted to make sure that this Burmin would never breathe again. The pudgy beast twitched and writhed, grinding Silhouette into the hard packed dirt. She was beginning to faint and struggled to focus her thoughts, struggled to fight back against the darkness that pulsed in her brain with every heartbeat. She held onto the rag at Slits’ throat and at some point the flailing came to an end. She continued to hold for a while longer, unable to relax her muscles while trying to pull in small breaths. When she was positive that Slits was unconscious she released her grip and squirmed out from under the heavy body. Every attempted breath surged immense pain throughout her body.
Her breath slowly returned and she regained her composure. There was no time to dilly-dally; she had to finish the job, clean up, and get out, leaving no evidence behind. Silhouette threw the cloth back into the swampy mess on the pen’s floor and scooped some qoot feed into a bucket. At the sound of the goopy, grainy bits splurking into the pail the two curious qoots slugged over in a hustle. Silhouette dumped the feed onto the Burmin’s face, neck, and chest. She found the splatting sounds satisfying.
The sluggy beasts pulled themselves onto Slits, crushing the body as they slurped up their snack. Silhouette heard bones snap, and she saw Slits’ skull collapse under the weight of their hulking masses.
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