by Sandi Gamble
Bella spoke first, expressing a most obvious truth. “They didn’t believe us.” Tears started to stream down her cheeks. She took the failure as a personal one.
“Bella, don’t…” I said. “They wouldn’t have listened to anyone. They would not hear the truth.”
“But it was my task to get them to believe us, and I failed…”
Just then, six figures stepped forward from the shadowy darkness. I noticed them first and gestured toward Cate. She immediately reached for a weapon. In no time, we were all facing the small group, who approached with hands up in a gesture indicating they were not seeking a fight.
“Cate,” I said, indicating she should put down her weapon.
The six all wore hoodie sweatshirts. As soon as they were standing close enough for us to see them clearly in the dim light of the hallway, I focused on one of them, he was taller than the others. He reached up and swept the hoodie from his head.
He was ruggedly handsome, with sharp features and a day’s growth of stubble on his strong chin. His lips were full, and his piercing blue eyes focused on mine. I felt a rush of heat surge through my body momentarily and could feel my cheeks as the heat settled on them.
Cate, not trusting the situation at all, once again raised her weapon. I reached out and grabbed her hand. “No,” I said firmly. “Let them talk. I want to hear what they have to say… and why they’ve been following us.”
Jace, appreciating my position was not throwing caution to the wind. He positioned himself alongside Cate in case anything went awry.
“We do,” the handsome one said.
“We do what?” I demanded.
“We believe you,” he said. Then he stepped closer. Both Jace and Cate tensed. But I felt no fear. I took a step toward him and extended my hand. “I’m Ari,” I said.
He took my hand and held it for a brief second. “Tyrion,” he said simply. Then he glanced up at the security cameras on the ARC. “Please step away from the security cameras,” he said. “We cannot come any further into the light.”
“Why should we trust you?” Cate demanded.
He shrugged. “Because we believe you,” he said simply. “And we might be able to help.” Then he smiled. “And, because you have no choice.”
I smiled too. Even Cate couldn’t argue with that. Still, I had not forgotten the Minister’s words about engaging with anyone we met. However, we had found ourselves with few other options. We had arrived at the ARC, and had been thoroughly rebuffed. Either we engaged, or our mission would be an abject failure, something that I found intolerable.
“Come out of the light, everyone,” I said, taking charge.
Bella and Leon quickly packed up their communications equipment and then joined the rest of us in the shadows just beyond the ARC’s lights and monitors.
Once we had all gathered in the shadows, I faced Tyrion. “So, what year is this?”
“2040,” he said simply, as if the information was insignificant – certainly nothing that seemed as guarded as suggested by our failed communication with the ARC.
“Fifteen years since the purge,” I sighed, quickly doing the calculation.
“The purge?” Tyrion asked.
“Yes, the purge. That was the moment when, according to our reckoning, the Earth became completely uninhabitable.” I gestured with my head toward the ARC. “That is when our ancestors locked themselves in the ARCs, abandoning the remaining population to certain death.”
Tyrion eyed me curiously, not suspiciously, but curiously as one might view a peculiarity he’d come across in a gift shop. “Where do you come from?”
“A place called Pulchra. It is a small island continent off the coast…” I was hushed by Jace pulling on my wrist.
“Not too much information, Ari,” he cautioned.
Although my heart told me that I could trust Tyrion, my head told me that Jace was right. I had to proceed cautiously.
Tyrion took in our interaction without any display of emotion or concern. “We saw you fly over our camp in your spacecraft,” he said. “We…” he paused and gestured to the others near him, “…were sent to follow you.” He glanced back toward the ARC. “We didn’t know what they were up to this time.”
I looked back at the ARC. “Them? You thought we had something to do with the inhabitants of the ARC? I don’t understand, Tyrion. What do you mean, up to? What have the survivors in the ARC been up to?”
“I’ve said too much,” Tyrion said simply, pulling the hood of his jumper back over his head so that his face was hidden. “We need to go.”
Cate and Jace stiffened. Tim did too.
“It could be a trap,” Jace said.
“It could be,” I conceded. “But I don’t think it is. Besides, as Tyrion said, we really don’t have any choice. Our mission has changed.”
There was some hesitation but no disagreement. It was clear that the ARC would not be the source of the information we needed. So, we had to change our strategy.
I caught a brief smile beneath Tyrion’s hoodie. It was not a sly or mean smile. It was warm and caring.
We began to follow after them.
“Why do you wear those hoodies?” Tim asked. “Why do you hide your faces?”
“So we are not recognized by the cameras,” a voice, not Tyrion’s, replied.
Curiously, though we had no reason to be held in suspicion, each of us understood intuitively what he was saying. We had felt the vulnerability of being watched throughout the hall.
Tyrion and his group walked quickly and without rest. It was not easy for us to keep pace with them. Certainly, it was not easy for me. After my sleepless night, I was tired, and my muscles were sore and fatigued. I did not realize how much the disappointment at the ARC had sapped me of energy.
But my own feeling was irrelevant. We had no choice but to follow them and struggled to keep up. We covered a great deal of ground quicker than we had getting to the ARC. Tyrion and his friends knew every turn, every hallway, and every shortcut. We soon arrived at the underground railway station where we’d first entered the tunnel.
Tyrion and his friends paused at the sight of the corpses, almost as a gesture of respect.
“Tyrion…” I started.
He held his hand to his hoody to silence me. “A moment,” he said.
Then, we moved on. Not a word was spoken about the corpses, the wall murals, anything that we passed. When we approached the airport, we came to a halt.
“What is going on?” Tim demanded.
In front of us, we could see that our Fú was heavily guarded.
“How are we supposed to trust you Tyrion?” Jace demanded. “You didn’t tell us that you had claimed our Fú as your own!”
“We have not claimed it as our own. Yes, your spacecraft is being guarded but only until we were able to talk to you. We did not know your intent. We did not know whether you were friend or foe, whether you could help us, and us you.
“And, truth be known, we are not only guarding it from you.”
“I don’t see how there could be anything you could do to help us,” Jace stated firmly, with the arrogance of a colonizer from the future.
“I think they could be helpful,” I said. And it was true. I was not only hoping to defuse a potentially explosive situation. Tyrion and his friends were clearly survivors. Whether through natural immunity or some other means they had resisted whatever had taken so many others. If so, then they could be enormously helpful.
Not for the first time, it occurred to me that we would not be able to return to the future. If that proved to be the case, then it would be vital to understand how these people had managed to survive so many years after the purge.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE NEGOTIATIONS
Tyrion led us to a fenced-off campus a short walk from the grounds of the airport.
As we left the airport, we all noticed a very large blue horse reared on its back legs as if in an aggressive stance. Its eyes glowed red in the
growing darkness. I questioned Tyrion about the strange object. Tyrion hesitated at first and then said that the horse had commonly been known as Blucifer. It stood 32 feet tall and was noted to have killed the artist while being moved into place. Most people recognized it as the fourth horseman of the apocalypse, in other words ‘death’, and said it was indicative of the demise of the earth. It was as if it was heralding in what would become of us. He seemed saddened. After seeing the murals adorning the walls of the airport I couldn’t help but secretly agree with Tyrion, a chill traveled down my spine. All in all, it seemed there was a message being delivered to humanity through art.
I couldn’t speak for the others, but I was exhausted when we finally realized we could put down our packs. Still, I was tense with nervous energy. I could see the same in the eyes of the others.
As I looked around, I felt a certain easing of my tension. Unlike other areas around the city, the grounds of the campus were guarded by others, all wearing hoodies, although some had their hoodies drawn back. The grounds were in excellent condition, clean and pristine. I was fascinated by how beautiful the grounds were, in particular when compared to the dystopian landscapes we had seen earlier.
I would learn that Tyrion’s group had taken over the Anschutz Inpatient Pavilion of the Colorado Hospital Group. Of course, none of this was familiar to me or anyone else in my group. I would also come to learn that Tyrion was not just any scout. He was the son of the person in charge of this entire facility.
As we would all come to understand – and appreciate – Tyrion’s father was a hard-nosed ex-military man, someone who would have been comfortable running the Academy. He expected the complex to run with the efficiency of an army camp. He was at the entrance to the camp when Tyrion led us to the gate.
The older man stood at the gate, his stature firm, yet welcoming. As soon as Tyrion was within arm’s length of the older man, he reached to grab his son and gave him a fist pump to the back in a gesture of welcoming him back home.
Tyrion’s eyes were bright with pride as he turned and brought his father’s attention to us.
“So this is them,” he said, nodding in my direction.
“Yes, sir. This is all of them.”
His father nodded. Then he reached out and put his arm around Tyrion’s shoulders. Before turning and leading him towards the front room, he barked an order. “Take them to holding.”
Jace stiffened. Cate reached for a weapon.
“I thought we were supposed to work in collaboration! We are not prisoners!” Jace yelled.
Tyrion turned back, causing his father to come to a halt. He said something to his father and then he walked back toward us. “You are not prisoners,” he said, directing his words to me. “You will be okay and well cared for. No one will harm you in any way. Just please go with these soldiers.
“You’ll be called for shortly.” As he spoke, he searched my eyes, begging for trust and understanding. I had no problem letting him know that he could find it.
He smiled quickly and then turned to go back to his father. As they retreated from us, the guards came closer.
“Like we’re supposed to trust someone we just met,” Jace muttered in disgust. “They are holding our craft hostage, and now they are taking us prisoner. At gunpoint!” he added, making sure he yelled it loud enough for Tyrion to hear.
In truth, Jace was not the only one worried. Bella’s brow was furrowed with concern. Cate was rigid and tense.
“Cate,” I said under my breath, “stand down.”
She looked at me as if I’d lost my mind.
“They have not taken our weapons or made any move to do so. Would they behave that way if they really meant us harm?”
Cate looked at the weapon in her hand. She glanced at the gun in Jace’s holster. Her eyes met mine and she shrugged, acknowledging my point. It was now clear to everyone who had come from Pulchra, I was in charge. They were taking their cues from me, and I was willing to trust these people – at least for now.
We were led to a building that could only be a medical clinic. It was clean and well-maintained. There were examination bays that were populated by people in white, medical garb.
“Strange place to make camp,” I noted to one of the guards, trying to make conversation while learning more about our situation.
“Not at all, ma’am,” the guard said, showing me a good deal more respect and consideration than I’d expected. “It’s actually a very practical place to set up camp.”
I studied the guard closely. Like the others, he was a stern-faced man of indeterminate age, maybe in his forties, maybe his fifties. His face was lined with certainty – the face of a man who had seen a good deal of hardship but who had come out of it stronger and more determined. He wore military fatigues that hugged his body, showing his muscles.
He was, in every respect, a man with a warrior’s bearing. And yet, when he spoke to me, he showed me a gentle tone and a respect I had never before associated with a man of battle. It was really quite fascinating. And telling.
As he led us into a room, I could sense that Jace felt foolish about his earlier outburst. It was clear that we were not to be made prisoners at all. Rather, we were treated like guests. The room we were brought to was light and airy. There were soft chairs and sofas arranged in a lazy, comfortable manner. Jace had pre-judged that the people from this era were more barbarian. In truth, that was not far from how we’d been taught in the Academy.
Still, I was disappointed that he had failed to intuit that there was a disconnect between the truth and what we’d been taught. As we would learn, that would prove to be the case more often than not.
“Please make yourselves comfortable,” the guards instructed. “If there’s anything you want, we’ll try and get it for you.”
Even as they were offering us these courtesies, three young girls came into the room carrying trays. On the tray were glasses and pitchers of clear, cold water along with fresh fruit, bread and cheese.
“This isn’t prison,” Tim laughed. “This is heaven!”
We all chuckled, even Jace. But, after eating some fruit, Jace motioned me to a corner of the room, away from everyone else. When we were alone, he scanned the area for any kind of listening device. Satisfied that we could speak, he leaned closer to me. “What are you going to tell them, Ari?”
I thought for a moment. “The truth Jace.” “The truth.”
He looked alarmed. “Be careful, Ari. You can’t tell them everything. We don’t know what they want. We don’t know anything about them. This room is certainly nice enough but what if this is all a trick? We don’t know their plans. What if they take us prisoner and force us to fly them to Pulchra?”
I looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Jace, listen to yourself. You are not thinking logically. How many could possibly fit on the Fú? Surely not enough to bring about a revolution.” I leaned closer to him, feeling some sympathy for his concern, but no patience for his read of these people, a read that I felt was terribly off the mark. “Anyway, we haven’t been asked anything yet so let’s just see what happens.
“The truth is, we have so far gotten nowhere with our own kind. Maybe we need these people.” Then I lowered my voice even more. “What if we never go back to the future, Jace? Have you considered that? What if we find ourselves unable to leave this time? I, for one, do not want to leave our situation up to fate, I would rather discover if we have allies. What about you?”
He shrugged, essentially conceding my point. “Okay, but remember, we were told not to interact with any survivors. The Minister will not be pleased with this, Ari,” he noted, disapproval in his voice.
I couldn’t counter that. There was no question that we were on unsettled ground in terms of our instructions. “Well,” I noted, not for the first time, “the Minister is not here, so we have to make adjustments. We are not robots, you know. We have to use our judgment and our intelligence…”
Before we could continue our discu
ssion, Tyrion came to the door of the room. “Ari, my father would like to talk to you now.”
I looked up, but I didn’t move.
“If it would be all right and you wouldn’t mind coming with me.”
Jace moved before I did, stepping in front of me. “She goes nowhere without me,” he stated firmly.
Tyrion seemed to accept Jace’s words at face value and without malice. “That’s fine,” he said. “I should have considered how you would feel about Ari’s safety. Please feel free to come along,” he said. Then he looked at the others. “Please make yourselves comfortable now. If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.
“Food will be brought out shortly.”
Tim and Leon had amused facial expressions. This was quickly turning into a very positive situation. Not only could we finally rest, but we were also being well cared for.
I chuckled looking at them. It was good to see them so relieved. The pressure of our mission was hard to overstate, and it had been wearing on all of us. This was the closest we’d come to relaxing in what felt like a very long time.
Jace and I followed along with Tyrion. At first, we didn’t speak as we made our way along the deserted but very clean and bright corridor.
“I would have thought everything would have been in much worse condition than it is, Tyrion,” I said. “I’m surprised – pleasantly – to find this compound in such good order.”
“We’re very careful to maintain the compound,” Tyrion said. “But the truth is, out there most things are in worse condition.” He shrugged sadly. “We can’t save everything after all.
“When the purge, as you call it, happened, my father had the wisdom to come to the hospital, not to seek medical care as he didn’t feel that sick but to assist in the care of those who were ill and to help bury the dead to stop the spread of infection and disease. Having been a Major General in the Marine Corps, he was quite competent to take charge and to put in place a procedure that allowed for success – limited though it may have been.
“Many people headed to the hospital, as he expected. Sadly, most died before arriving here, and many more were so sick that nothing could be done to help them. However, a good number did survive.