by Al K. Line
This wouldn't be as easy as she'd thought, but she scampered over to the side of the massive stone steps and rushed over bunches of cables that ended at a metal box full of equipment beside tables and trolleys stacked with things she didn't understand in her mouse brain. She had to be fast. She was fading already. She moved quickly across the cables that hung from the window in the carved wall, followed them up the steps and then she was climbing almost vertical, a tiny brown spot in the vastness, invisible from below. Through the window, down the cable and onto a long desk running the length of the wall in the cramped room.
It was lighter in here. Banks of equipment flashed green, alive behind black, blank exteriors. This must be the room where the images are processed, and from where they then projected onto the screen. They must have solar panels, or wind technology, but it would be so dated by now she couldn't imagine it worked that well. Probably reserved just for this event, or maybe Vorce replaced it as and when needed.
All you'd need were good batteries, or maybe they had a water turbine that would run for a thousand years? If so, then why not use electricity everywhere? She'd seen no sign of it.
Keep the people subdued, that was why. The more you had the more you wanted, so keep it mysterious, part of The Hunt.
Mouse Arcene got to work. The projector first, wires chewed, innards mangled. The digital projector would be useless, it could never be fixed after just a few minutes of mouse damage. Her tiny body was incapable of pushing it out the window but it didn't matter, she'd like to see them try to get a picture out of that now.
What next? Where to start? She had no idea what it all meant, what to do with any of it. All she could see were things on tables in metal boxes, fasteners snapped shut. And she didn't want to get electrocuted. If that happened, if she died before returning to her body, she would be as dead as the mouse, so she had to be careful.
Arcene moved across the table top, but there was little else she could do. Whatever was in the boxes was impossible to access. She clambered carefully down to the floor and scurried across to the banks. What were they, servers? No, there wouldn't be a network here. What then? Storage, that's what. Probably Hunts, and maybe computers to process however many cameras were involved in what was to come. Well, she was out of luck, she could do nothing here. If Arcene had been in her own body she could have looked past the veneer of solidity and seen so much more, but as a mouse, no. Arcene moved back onto the table by the window, ready to leave.
Creak.
She turned. The door opened and a child entered, rubbing at his eyes, mussed hair stacked up comically. He'd been woken, and he looked grumpy about it. Did she dare? Should she? This was not something Arcene would be good at, had even tried, and certainly didn't like. Her tiny mouse belly felt sick just thinking about it, but here went nothing.
As the boy reached toward the metal cases, Arcene jumped onto his shoulder. Human contact was needed for her to make this happen, and she was far from an expert at human minds. Animals were different, easy in comparison, but the human brain was an impossibly complex thing, and she wouldn't be given permission.
She hit a brick wall instantly, but squeezed inside, taking advantage of the fear and shock at the mouse on his shoulder to ease through the gap in his awareness this created. She felt the boy's mind, Whole, but not Awoken — that would have made it impossible for her — and felt the fear build as he noticed her presence. The mouse jumped down, and Arcene gave a silent thanks as it scurried back to its home.
The boy's mind was a mess. He didn't know what was happening, only that he was being intruded upon. Arcene had to act fast, so forced herself on him, hating herself for doing it, but what choice did she have?
She opened the cases with small, trembling hands, and threw the digital equipment onto the ground, then stomped on it with her boots. She moved quickly to a junction box on the wall and flicked all the switches off, then ripped out cables, opened doors on the whirring towers, threw the trays then jumped up and down as hard as she could on the contents.
Skin was slick with sweat as she fought to keep her mind. The terror rose, became her own as the boy tried to stop himself from causing so much damage. He was freaking out, nerves frayed as the horror of what he was doing overwhelmed him. This was it, enough. Arcene retreated with an apology as the boy crashed to the floor, unconscious.
Arcene was back in her cell, shivering. She hugged herself for comfort, skin clammy, the salty tang of her own exertions reaching her nostrils as she gagged and fishy bile splattered onto the wall.
She'd entered a human being, taken over the boy's mind, and she'd come close to losing herself. This was not right, went against how The Noise should be used. Invading people's consciousness against their will was wrong, but she'd done it and directed his actions. She'd felt his fear, his panic as he realized what he was doing. He was a simple errand boy, there to collect what he'd been told to get, not understanding how the things functioned but knowing it was a terrible act he carried out against his will.
He was sick with humiliation and so scared he'd blacked out. Arcene hoped he was all right, but there was no way she would be turned into entertainment for the masses. If they, all of them, wanted to have a fight then they had better step forward and face her, not cheer as they watched from the safety of a projected image.
The nausea washed over her in waves, leaving behind a darkness, an emptiness, mind scattered and spread wide like driftwood on the beach after a storm. She was dispersed, her mind not yet truly her own. She was a mouse and she was a scared boy and she was a girl in a cell on an Island inhabited by madmen.
She was Arcene. Yes, that's who she was. And nobody messed with her.
Leel twitched, still comatose from the drugs. Arcene wiped her mouth and squatted in the corner, keeping vigil over her friend.
She waited for morning.
Sleepy Dog
"Leel, you're awake!" Arcene scooted over as her best friend opened her eyes and yawned like she'd merely been napping.
She tried to stand but her legs splayed out to the sides, trembling like she'd been in a freezing river. "Just rest a minute. The bad people drugged you, made you go to sleep. You need to take it slowly."
Arcene sat next to the confused dog and hugged her tight around the neck, taking in her musty smell mixed with salt and fish, but the familiar Leel scent was there. Her short fur tickled Arcene's neck as she held on for all she was worth.
"I was so worried about you. I thought you might never wake up." There was no stopping it, Arcene sobbed into Leel's quivering neck, soaking the fur. Great heaves of relief gushed out, muffled sobs in the dark, Arcene's muscles taut, straining for comfort, hoping to take away the pain and the hurt from them both.
What had she got them mixed up in? Was it really her fault? She was just hungry, that was all, she didn't mean to be rude. Was it like when she was young and stole food from others? Was that how these people saw it? But they offered, so she took it. She was polite, wasn't she? Oh, the sword business, she'd forgotten about that. Yes, she threatened that man who touched her, but she couldn't help it, not after what had been done to her in the past. Men were not allowed to touch her. He'd touched her skin!
It was no use, maybe she was to blame for her rash acts and her greed, but that wasn't reason enough to act in such a depraved way, was it? But then, she would have killed that man if he'd gone any further, so what did that say about her? It said she was her own person and was not to be molested, that's what.
She was right, they were wrong. Anyway, what did it matter now? She would fight them, like she always had. Leel, they could have taken Leel away from her.
The crying was over. This was no time for tears. They would come soon so she had to be ready, get herself together and not let them see she was nothing but a little girl underneath the bravado, who worried for her pet and cried. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
Arcene released her hold on Leel and it seemed to have helped them both. Leel got
to her feet, still wobbling slightly, but she stretched in that comical way of hers and paced the cell to get the blood flowing and to ease her limbs that must ache terribly. Arcene stood and peered through the bars but it was still just a gloomy, empty corridor. Leel whined behind her, hating the confinement. They were creatures of freedom, and now they were like birds in a cage, unsettled by the claustrophobic conditions.
What time was it? Arcene consulted her internal clock to find it was almost quarter past three now. When would they come?
There wasn't long to wait. Five minutes later, the corridor lit up with an orange light. Two men glared at her from the opposite side of the bars, holding thick candles in heavy, iron candlesticks. Arcene stared right back at them, defiant. Vorce arrived a moment later, surprising Arcene with his apparent calmness. No, not just apparent, she saw behind his features and he truly was calm — he'd controlled himself, let the anger wash away.
"You did a bad thing, Arcene. You ruined our equipment, part of our traditions. That poor boy, I don't think he will ever be the same again."
Arcene shrugged. Show no regret or he'll think you're weak.
"No matter, The Hunt will continue. There are always backups. Right now more antiquated equipment is being taken out of storage and I am sure everything will run as it should, although the people of The Island, my family, they will not witness The Hunt in the same glorious definition they are used to."
"That's not my problem. I'm not their entertainment. I'm not yours either."
"You have been found guilty so you will be hunted. Now, if you please, your arm." Vorce nodded to the men either side of him. One pulled a dart gun and without pausing aimed then fired at Leel.
The effect was instant.
Leel snarled and lunged at the bars, teeth snapping at the men. As the full weight of an angry Leel hit their prison, Arcene thought for a moment they would have their freedom, but it held fast. That didn't stop Leel getting a paw partially through a gap and snagging the shooter's shirt with deadly claws. She yanked and he slammed into the bars.
Leel's claws dug tight into flesh as soft as butter beneath thin material and the white tunic stained red.
Arcene jabbed out with her hand as straight as a perfectly planed length of wood and just as hard. She heard the satisfying crunch as the man's windpipe collapsed under the pressure. He dropped like a boulder. Leel's claws ripped up his chest and sliced through his chin as he fell, half his lips torn off, hanging like a swollen lump of congealed fat from the side of his flayed face as he smacked into the floor.
He was dead.
Leel lunged at the bars again but the others had stepped back. Again, and again she snapped, but the fight was leaving her. As she retreated to try again, Arcene watched in dismay as Leel's legs buckled and the foaming dog collapsed.
"Well, this will be an interesting Hunt. Don't worry, she's just sedated again, while we get you to the mainland. We don't hunt at our home, the journey will be made with you both unconscious."
"What, you're letting Leel play too, are you? Not just gonna kill her, or us, in our sleep?"
"Oh no, that wouldn't be fair at all. I'll even give you your sword back. It has to be fair, now doesn't it?"
"Yeah, right."
"Your arm, please?"
Arcene stared at Vorce, then the other man, then the dead man, laying in his blood and Arcene's urine. She sighed, held out her bare arm.
The needle slid in deep. She crumpled, wondering if she would ever wake up again.
Not just any Girl
When Vorce heard what had happened in the video room he was livid, but the more he thought about it the more he simply became intrigued. As he spoke to the terrified boy he pieced it together, and was rather impressed with the fact Arcene had occupied a mouse — tiny creatures were the hardest by far — but amazed she had then jumped from such a basic mind straight into the boy's.
He doubted he would even attempt such a thing as so much could go wrong. It was a bold and very dangerous move indeed.
The shaking child spoke with fear and shame, but Vorce didn't blame him, how could he? The boy was dismissed, assured he was blameless. After the rather costly sedation of Arcene and her damn dog, Vorce gave instructions for the necessary repairs to the room and equipment. The show would go on, even if it meant The Hunt would be screened in less than perfect high definition.
It had taken him an age to find the right equipment over the years, but he was knowledgeable and found a lot of good quality items, upgrading whenever he could. Most was redundant for the mainland population as there were only a limited number of solar panels and deep cycle batteries to power electronics. Those that were lucky enough to have such specialist equipment, then figure out how to get it to work, relied on batteries that died sooner or later no matter what you did, so there was enough old technical equipment to go around and then some.
The batteries he painstakingly restored best he could were not great at storing the charge from the panels on the roof though, and even the vast array meant they drained quickly in the evening when the sun set. The wind turbines functioned well, but there was nowhere near enough to supply the whole Island with electricity. He didn't want to in any case.
It was to be a simpler life, away from such things, so electricity was used exclusively for The Hunt. He introduced the immersive experience that was their modern Hunt gradually, keeping strict control, but ensuring it became evermore spectacular, the event that kept everyone happy, content — controlled.
To many inhabitants it was a mystical force they didn't even try to understand, just accepted as part of The Hunt and went about their lives, living by daylight hours or candles that always smoked and smelled foul.
Vorce left once Arcene and the dog were sedated after their outburst, and gave orders for them to be brought to his quarters at the base of The Island. Talia was to be brought too, along with her chosen companions.
As he entered his spacious living room, Vorce nodded to two other Elders, a male and female, both younger than him in years and appearance. They were strong, intelligent in their own way, capable and deadly.
There would be six Hunters. Vorce was always the lead, but the Judge, in this case Talia, was usually given ample opportunity to take the fore during the actual Hunt — under his and the Elders' direction. Her Judgment, her kill.
"Are we ready?" asked Vorce.
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Good. Please, sit, drink. You know what to do." They sat. This wasn't their first time, far from it, and with a glance at each other, then a nod to Vorce, they took their glasses and drank. Ten seconds later they were unconscious.
Vorce knew he wasn't his usual self, as he would normally have sat and talked about the day to come, but he was in no mood. Besides, he had work to do. Talia would be here soon and it was best for her to feel as relaxed as possible.
He sighed, then dragged the bodies over to the edge of the room. He slid the panel on the wall and keyed in the code — the steel door whooshed open, stale air greeting him like an old friend.
How he sometimes wished he could leave and never come back, turn his back on his family and friends, his wives and children, the traditions that had warped and gone in a direction he could have never envisioned, but it wasn't to be. This was his life, his responsibility, and besides, he enjoyed The Hunt. It was what he hated most about himself — the fact it gave him such a thrill.
Once they were inside, Vorce stepped into the elevator and arranged them so there was room for four more bodies. Him standing, Talia and her friends unconscious like these two. He stepped out to hear a knock at his door. He closed the elevator with a code on the keypad, slid back the panel and went to let in the new arrivals.
"I hope that's all clear? I know this is your first time, but you have seen countless Hunts before. You understand how it works and you are trained well, as are all of us." There were nods of agreement from the three youngsters — although he knew they weren't young, it was
impossible not to think of them almost as children with their lithe, youthful bodies, never mind they were all over a hundred years old.
"And, Talia, this is to be such a special Hunt. So many coincidences because of the numbers. Your birthday, the time between arrivals, more that you don't even know about. It is significant. I hope you understand this does not mean it will make it easier?"
"Um, well, I never thought it would be easy," said Talia. She frowned and shifted on her cushion on the floor.
Vorce could tell her and her friends were rather nervous. It was expected, as this was no easy thing they were about to do, and the risk of death was very real. Although The Hunt was always successful, it didn't mean everyone that was a Hunter came back alive.
"This is different," snapped Vorce. "Sorry, excuse me, it's been a trying night. Events have conspired to bring this girl and her pet to our Island, and so much has come together at once that there is no doubt this is a special moment. She is strong, powerful in The Noise, seemingly unafraid of much at all, and very different to how she looks."
"I know this. I can see her, what she truly is."
"Good, then please be careful. You will take the lead on this, Talia. Cashae, Erato, you are to follow her orders, but mine override every other consideration. If I tell you to do a thing, then you obey. Understand?"
"Yes, Vorce."
"Absolutely."
"Good. Now, drink. When you awake we will discuss things further. And do not be afraid, I will be there to protect you. Imagine that you are on a larger island, which is exactly what the UK is. It's just a larger version of our home. No need to be afraid."
There were nervous glances, nods of agreement and a lot of concern, but above all there was excitement about the day to come and stepping foot on real, genuine, solid ground for the first time in their lives.