by Brenda Poppy
Burn had been the one to pull her out of it. Slowly, over time, her sister had brought her back to life, coaxing her out little by little. But now, if it happened again, there was no one left to save her. So she had to keep going, keep trying until there were no options left. Burn would do it for her. Burn had done it for her. Now it was her turn to do the saving.
Scar redoubled her efforts, burying her head in a pile of secondhand tab components. She was so focused on the task at hand that the sudden arrival of a message on her own goggles came as quite the shock. She was so startled that she nearly managed to set the table on fire – again.
For a second, she feared it was the Lunaria inviting her to yet another futile meeting to plot against the Peace Force. After their refusal to help Burn and Hale, she’d given them the same treatment, refusing to lend her particular set of skills in return.
As she skimmed the text, though, she realized it wasn’t a Lunaria communique. In fact, it was quite the opposite; it was from Kaz. Scar hadn’t heard from Kaz since that night in the alley. She’d almost given up on him, written him off as useless, just like she’d done with the Lunaria. Yet it seemed he was more capable than she’d thought.
“I’ve discovered something,” the message began, getting straight to the point. “Can we meet?”
Cryptic yet intriguing. Scar couldn’t stop the excitement from thrumming through her. This could be it, the breakthrough she’d been waiting for.
Without hesitating, she typed out a reply. “Meet me in 15. Come alone. Make sure you’re not followed.”
Since it was past curfew – and she didn’t fancy the idea of another late-night rendezvous with the Peace Force – she gave him the address to Symphandra’s house. She knew it was risky, but she needed to find out what he’d learned, and she couldn’t wait until morning.
The following quarter of an hour was agonizing. Scar kept glancing at the clock, willing it to move, but it remained lethargic, ticking off the seconds in slow motion. Finally, with only a few minutes to spare, a light knock sounded on the door. Scar was there in an instant, checking the peep hole to make sure it was Kaz before admitting him inside.
Kaz didn’t look any better than the last time they’d met. The bags under his eyes remained, while his hair and scraggly beard had grown out, adding several years to his otherwise young face. But there was a new light in his eyes, something Scar had never seen. He seemed energized despite his exhaustion, fueled by something that was bursting to get out.
Without invitation, he strode into the living room and began pacing back and forth like a caged animal. He wrung his hands in front of him while his eyes scanned the room, looking at everything but taking in nothing.
Burn would have been concerned for him. He was obviously experiencing some inner turmoil, no doubt some combination of guilt and regret and sadness, but Scar couldn’t bring herself to care. True, he had once been close to her sister, but that didn’t make him anything to her. For Scar, he was merely a source of information, a means to an end. Once he’d served his purpose, it didn’t really matter what became of him – as long as he didn’t sell her out, of course.
“What did you learn?” Scar wasn’t one for small talk, so she asked the question on her mind.
Kaz stopped his pacing to look at her, startled to find her standing in front of him. Then, just as abruptly, he resumed his path, traveling back and forth from the kitchen to the bedroom door.
“I followed everyone who might know about the Pit,” he began. “I hid in the shadows and listened, but they said nothing about it. Or about weak spots in the wall. Or the possibility that people could exist outside of Kasis.”
Scar sighed. This was going to be a long story. She hated long stories. She much preferred it when people got to the point quickly and didn’t waste her time with the backstory. Yet she deemed it in her best interest not to interrupt him. If she did, it might take even longer, and she definitely did not have the patience for that. So she sat herself down on one of the living room couches and waited for him to get to the crux of his story.
“I realized I needed to do something, to move things along somehow. I wouldn’t learn what I needed to know by just lurking around people’s offices. I had to force them to reveal their hand.” Kaz lapsed into silence as the memories flashed through his mind. Scar waited for a moment before nudging him along.
“And?” she queried, trying to conceal her impatience. “What did you learn?”
“Well, I sent anonymous letters to a few of the most senior officers,” he said, continuing his story but getting no closer to the point. “I told them that I knew their secret: When people get sentenced to the Pit, they don’t die. They just end up outside of Kasis. I told them that I knew that life outside of the dome is possible and that there are people living and thriving out there as we speak.”
He said the last sentence without breathing and paused momentarily to catch his breath. After he’d sucked in enough air, he continued. “I ended the letters by threatening to go public with the information. I told them I had proof and, unless they paid me, I would leak it to the Lunaria, who would, in turn, release it throughout Kasis.”
“You asked for money?” Scar asked incredulously.
“I knew they would never give in to a bribe,” Kaz explained hurriedly, trying to allay Scar’s fears. “I just needed them to take the letters seriously. Once I delivered them, I staked out the offices, listening for any mention of the Pit.”
Scar had to hand it to him – it was a clever plan. By threatening them, he’d forced them to confront the issue. She was impressed, although she’d never tell that to him.
“Did it work?” she prodded, attempting to move the conversation closer to its conclusion.
“Well, I delivered them gradually, over the course of a few days, so I could track each subject and monitor their conversations,” he continued, eschewing the simple “yes” or “no” in favor of a long-form answer. Scar checked out for a brief period as she realized that the point was still a long way off.
“The first few were disappointing. They either didn’t know anything, or they thought the whole thing was a joke – or both. I spent over a week following dead ends. Then, on the fourth or fifth try, I discovered something. I’d sent another letter, this time to Sergeant Radix. Except instead of laughing at it or throwing it in the trash, he called for another one of the sergeants, one who I’ve never seen before.
“He showed the letter to the sergeant – I think his name was Sergeant Bellis – and Radix asked him what he thought of it. Like the others, Bellis said that it was probably a joke. Radix agreed, but then he said that they couldn’t be too careful. They had to make sure that none of the records were missing. He said that if they were all still in place, then they wouldn’t have anything to worry about.”
Scar perked up at the mention of records. Records meant that there was, indeed, something to record. And something to hide.
“And?” Scar queried, leaning over the back of the couch to get closer to Kaz, as if that would somehow get her closer to the end of the story. “Did you find the records they were talking about?”
“I followed Bellis down to the records room, deep within the Peace Station,” he said, still pacing – and still not answering her questions directly. “He didn’t bother with any of the typical records, the ones that catalog arrests and warrants and that kind of thing. He went farther back than I’ve ever been, and he opened a secret door tucked away and disguised to look like part of the wall. I managed to slip in after him before the door shut.
“It was a tiny room and I thought for sure that he would spot me. I’m still getting used to this whole ‘gift’ thing. Yet I managed to duck into one of the dark corners. I watched as he opened one cabinet and then another, flipping through the documents to make sure they were all in place. He was slow and thorough, reading every file before tucking it back. I don’t know how long we were there. It felt like hours. But finally, he seemed satisfied that
nothing was missing, and he left.”
Scar was sitting at attention now. Surely he had to be coming to the conclusion of his story. He was in the same room as the documents. What else could stop him from getting to the point?
“I waited for a few minutes to make sure he wasn’t coming back. When I was sure he was gone for good, I yanked open the drawers he’d been looking in and combed through every file. Most of them were old – very old – and they looked on the verge of disintegrating. They were hard to make out, but the majority of them were useless, just old plans of the city and construction invoices for different buildings. Then I saw ‘the Pit’ written on one of them. It turned out to be the original sketches for the Pit’s design.”
Scar couldn’t take it anymore. “Where does it lead?” she demanded impatiently. She was done with his story and wanted the facts.
“You were right. It leads outside of the city. The creators of the Pit never intended it to be a death sentence. They just wanted a way to banish people to the wildlands. They thought the atmosphere and animals would eventually kill them in the end, but they didn’t want to have people’s deaths on their conscience.”
Scar’s heart soared. Burn wasn’t dead. In fact, she could be right outside the dome now, waiting for them to find a way to let her back in. Scar wanted to laugh and cry and run to the dome’s edge to find her. Yet all of those things seemed rather excessive, so instead she remained where she was, seated on the couch. The only outward display she allowed herself was a small, tentative smile.
Kaz, not realizing that his story should have concluded with that piece of information, continued talking. “It’s been centuries since they built it. Over time, the truth about the Pit must have been corrupted, just like the Peace Force itself. As their purpose changed, so did their ideas of the Pit. Only a few officers seem to know the truth. I’m guessing they don’t want people to know that life outside the dome is possible. They want to keep people contained – and scared.”
Scar agreed with his assessment, but she didn’t really care why they’d done it. All that mattered was that she and Kaz could prove that they had.
“Did you take the documents? The Lunaria won’t believe us without evidence. We need to prove without a doubt that there are still people alive out there and that there’s a way to get them back.”
Kaz gave her a self-satisfied smile. Reaching into an inner pocket of his cloak, he pulled out a thick stack of yellow parchment and tossed it blithely onto the couch next to her. He was so smug, so proud of himself for his sleuthing, and, flipping through the papers, Scar could see why.
He’d not only grabbed the documents on the Pit itself, but seemingly the planning documents for all of Kasis – blueprints, electrical grids, contracts, project specifications. The list went on. This was a gold mine of information, a rare glimpse into the inner workings of Kasis.
Scar didn’t know where to start. She wanted to consume everything Kaz had brought, to absorb it into herself like light, but most of it meant nothing to her. Despite her technological brain, building schematics and contractor specifications didn’t compute the same way chips and circuits did. It was like trying to read another language, one that looked strangely similar to a child’s sketchbook.
“We need to tell the Lunaria,” Scar said, glancing up from the documents for the first time in several minutes. “Tomorrow. We’ll call a meeting for tomorrow. That should give us enough time to formulate a plan.”
“We?” Kaz asked suspiciously. “I don’t think the Lunaria would be that fond of me attending one of their meetings. The whole Peace Officer thing might be a sore spot.”
Scar sighed loudly, exhausted by his tedious dramatics. “It’ll be fine. Just let me do the talking.” She didn’t think she could stand another tiresome recitation of his story.
“But…” he started to say, but Scar cut him off.
“Do you want to get Burn back?” He nodded mutely. “Then do what I say. You’ve done fine on your own so far, but now it’s time to bring in people who actually know what they’re doing. Apart, we have no chance of finding her. But if we combine forces with the Lunaria, we might have a chance of bringing her back alive.”
Kaz just stared at her, his eyes wide. She took that as acceptance.
“Good. Now it’s time to get to work.”
✽✽✽
Burn awoke with the suns, their unrelenting rays piercing the darkness of the cave and startling her into consciousness. She felt groggy and sore, the rough floor of the cave being ill-equipped to serve as a mattress. One of Hale’s large arms lay across her stomach, pinning her to the ground. Gradually she managed to wriggle free, squirming out of his grip and crawling out of the cave.
The sight that met her outside was breathtaking. While the first sun had cleared the horizon and was beginning its trek across the sky, the second was just cresting, drenching the desert with shades of orange, yellow, and pale pink. It peeked tentatively over the dunes, creating a captivating portrait of shadows and light as far as the eye could see.
The early morning stillness made the whole scene feel serene and peaceful, as if there was nothing out there that could touch her. Gone were the howling wind and the howling creatures. In their place was a timid breeze that made the sand dance merrily around her feet. Tendrils of hair tickled her face as she settled herself in the sand and raised her head to the sky, drinking in the warmth.
With her eyes shut, Burn opened her mind to the desert, listening as the wildlands came to life before her. Small animals skittered from their holes in search of food as the birds provided a musical score in the background. Somewhere, far away, a faint trickle of water splashed across rocks as a stubborn stream tried to compete with the merciless desert suns. The thin, dry air brought with it the scent of sweet sand and dusty earth, filling her senses and uniting her with the landscape.
Sitting there, her eyes closed and head raised, she fell into a sort of trance, lulled into a gentle peace by the harmony of her surroundings. That’s how Hale found her, seated on the desert floor with her hands buried in the sand beside her. Instead of rousing her, he took a seat next to her, mirroring her movements. They sat like that for some time, without speaking or needing to speak.
Eventually, though, thirst and hunger and the gradually increasing heat made speech and movement necessary, and Burn broke the idyllic stillness of the scene.
“We need to find water,” she said, hating to bring reality back into their lives but knowing that it must be said. “I finished my canteen last night. Callidus is probably still a few hours away, even on horseback.”
Her voice cracked as she spoke, emphasizing her point. Instead of responding, Hale lifted himself up and walked away, following the rock face out of sight. Unconcerned, Burn merely waited, certain he would return and explain.
After a time, he did return – but he was no longer alone. Walking sedately behind him was a tall, muscular horse with a reddish-brown coat that gleamed in the suns. Its mane and tail were a silky black, while a once-colorful woven saddlebag rested comfortably across its broad back. Pausing in front of her, Hale reached inside one of the pockets and withdrew a large canteen, which he offered to her wordlessly.
Burn took it, its fullness reassuringly heavy in her hands. She gulped down a few mouthfuls of water, its magical coolness washing the sand from her mouth and the prickles of thirst from her throat. Satisfied, she handed the bottle back to Hale before venturing cautiously toward the regal animal.
“She’s friendly,” Hale stated, noticing her interest. “And she’s one hell of a runner. Didn’t seem to mind my weight in the least, so she should be able to carry both of us without difficulty.”
As Burn tentatively reached out to stroke the creature’s neck, Hale withdrew a small bowl from its pack and poured some of the water into it. He offered the bowl to the horse, who obligingly dipped its muzzle in and drank. Burn smiled to herself as she watched Hale interact with the animal, his gentleness tugging at somet
hing deep within her.
“There’s a bit of food, as well,” he said, indicating the saddle bag. “It’s not much, but it should last us for a bit if we’re careful.”
Burn rummaged through the pockets and discovered a small store of dried meat and nuts. Taking a handful of each, she offered some to Hale before digging in herself. Despite the meal’s meager size, she felt her energy level rise – and her optimism along with it. They had food, water, a horse, and each other. The desert seemed a small foe in comparison.
Once they’d finished their meal and packed their limited belongings, they mounted the horse and set off in the direction Jez had indicated. Just as Hale had said, the horse had no problem supporting their combined weight, and it trotted easily through the dunes as it headed toward Callidus.
At first, the ride was jarring, and Burn found herself bouncing painfully in the seat. Hale, however, intrinsically understood the creature, and he shifted his body in sync with its movements. Burn could feel him at her back, his large form rising and falling in time with the beating hooves. After a while, she began to do the same, matching the rhythm of his body until they all moved as one.
It was thrilling. The desert air whipped around them, focusing the majority of its strength at their backs as if spurring them on. Beneath them, the path changed from dunes to dry, cracked earth, and Burn watched as brittle foliage, prickly cacti, and long stretches of nothingness competed for her attention. The uneven surfaces and varied terrain made their journey slow yet achingly beautiful.
Around midday, they stopped for water and lunch, and to allow their horse to rest. With the suns at their peak, the heat beat down on the trio, sapping their energy. Luckily, they found a spot in the shade of a high cliff face and took sanctuary in its cool embrace.