The wind shifted, carrying the scent of human habitation to his nose. Austin allowed himself a moment of triumph – he’d been right – then he sniffed more carefully. Humans, chickens, pigs ... someone seemed to have set up an entire hidden farm. He couldn't smell any sheep or cattle, but perhaps that wasn't a surprise. Sheep and cattle required wide-open spaces if they were to be bred properly. Chicken and goats required very little.
There was a snapping sound, followed by a flare of light. Austin threw up his hand to cover his eyes, but the damage had been done. He was blind, just long enough for someone to jump him from behind. Austin let out a grunt as the bandit landed on his back, then kicked out and struck human flesh. The bandit made an annoyed sound, then pulled back and slammed a punch into Austin’s back. Austin gasped in pain and tried to move, but it was futile. His captor held him as efficiently as he’d held the crabs, days ago.
He winced as he felt a gun poked into his back. It probably wouldn't kill him, he realised, but it would almost certainly break his spine. A harsh voice, right next to him, told him to put his hands behind his back. Austin hesitated, just long enough for the gun to be pushed right into his skin, then obeyed. He would be no good to anyone crippled or killed.
Idiot, he told himself, as his captor – captors – tied his hands together. You walked right into a trap.
The scoutmaster would probably kick him out of the troop, he realised, as he was roughly hauled to his feet and searched. He’d watched carefully for human guards, but he hadn't been as careful as he should have been about tripwires. One of them had been linked to an emergency flare, blinding him long enough for the guards to catch him.
One of the guards caught him by the ear. “Are you alone?”
“Yes,” Austin said – and prayed Darrin wouldn't be caught. Somehow, he doubted the bandits would be happy if they caught him lying to them. “I'm alone.”
“What a fucking idiot,” the other guard muttered. “Coming in here alone.”
“Get a search party roused,” the first guard said. He produced a pair of handcuffs and clicked them onto Austin’s wrists. “I don’t believe him.”
He dragged Austin through the darkened camp – it looked more like a village, Austin realised – and thrust him, still handcuffed, into a small room. Inside, it was dark, but he recognised Kailee’s voice as she awoke and cried out. Austin felt a mixture of relief – at least he’d found the missing girl – and horror. Who knew what the bandits would do to them?
The guard thrust him to the ground and walked away, shutting the door firmly behind him.
“Austin?” Gary’s voice said, from out of the darkness. “What happened?”
“I tried to get in after you,” Austin said, before either of them could say too much. The prison didn't look even remotely soundproofed. “The others are dead.”
He tried to find a comfortable position, but it wasn't easy. There was no way the other two could undo the handcuffs, even if they could see what they were doing. Gritting his teeth, remembering the suggestions for escaping in the handbook, Austin tried to slip his hands out of the bracelets. Unsurprisingly, it was a great deal harder in real life.
“Get some sleep,” he said, firmly. There was nothing else they could do – and besides, he didn't want to talk too much. “We can catch up in the morning.”
And pray, he added, in the privacy of his own mind, that Darrin makes it back to civilisation.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Worse, the bureaucrats attempted to extend their system out to every last world in the Empire. The problems facing students and teachers on Earth were grossly magnified when faced by students and teachers on worlds hundreds of light years from Earth. Indeed, the bureaucrats even attempted to close the loophole permitting home-schooling on starships, which would have crippled the interstellar economy years before its final collapse.
- Professor Leo Caesius. Education and the Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire.
Darrin saw the flash of light ahead of him and realised, to his horror, that Austin had been caught. It seemed impossible. Indeed, he hadn't expected Austin, of all people, to be caught by the bandits. The colonial boy had seemed so confident, so certain of his ability to survive that Darrin had come to think of him as invincible. Surely, if he and Barry had come to blows, Austin would have won.
But he’d been caught by the bandits.
For a long moment, Darrin hesitated, caught between two imperatives. The part of him that wanted to impress Austin, that wanted to convince the colonial boy that they could be friends, demanded that he go in after Austin and free him. But the part of him that knew that anyone who could catch Austin could catch Darrin too had other ideas. There was no point in throwing himself into the dragon’s mouth, not when Austin had told him to seek the Jordan and use it to escape.
Carefully, staying low, he crawled backwards until he arrived at where they’d hidden their packs and a small collection of edible plants. His stomach growled as he wolfed down the food, demanding that he find something more filling to eat. But there was no time to hunt for a rabbit or something else, let alone make a fire and cook. The fire alone would lead the bandits right to him. Instead, he pulled the compass out of Austin’s pack and looked at it doubtfully. If he got it wrong, in the darkness, he was as good as dead.
“The needle always points north,” Austin had explained. It had all seemed perfectly simple in broad daylight. Now, Darrin had to stare at the glow-in-the-dark compass, silently grateful to whoever had invented it. “You can use it to determine which way to go.”
Darrin twisted the compass until ‘N’ was pointing north, which showed him which way was east, towards the Jordan. It looked right, he knew, but what if it was wrong? He hesitated again, seriously considering trying to slip back to the bandit camp, then shook his head. It would just get him caught for nothing. Donning his pack, he started to walk through the forest towards the east.
It wasn't easy going. The darkness seemed almost a living thing; it flowed around him, making him see things that weren't there on closer reflection. Austin had commented that there were all sorts of stories of things lurking in the woodlands, strange creatures hiding from the gaze of mankind; now, looking and peering into the darkness, Darrin could believe that there was something there. The forest was almost completely silent, the silence broken only by strange hooting in the distance. The first time he heard it, Darrin thought that it was the bandits, coming after him in hot pursuit. It wasn't until he saw a white form fly over his head that he realised that birds were making the sounds. He’d never even heard of a bird flying at night before.
They probably gave us a wide berth, he thought, as he paused to catch his breath. Walking in the dead of night was far more exhausting than walking at day – and his hunger didn't make it any easier. He was tempted to sit down and sleep, then start walking again when dawn broke, yet he knew he didn't dare. If he relaxed now, he wouldn't have the energy to move later – and besides, if the bandits did manage to get Austin to talk, they would know that Darrin had escaped them. They might come after him.
What would they do to their prisoners? Darrin had watched thousands of entertainment flicks, some better than others, and they offered a wide range of possible answers. It would be easy enough for the bandits to torture Austin to get him to talk – or maybe simply inject him with a truth drug. They wouldn't need anything sophisticated. Darrin hadn't heard of any drug problems on Meridian, but if they had a sample of Sparkle Dust they could use it to make Austin highly suggestible. And then he would tell them whatever they wanted to know, without even hesitating.
He froze as he saw – or thought he saw – a humanoid shape in the darkness. For a moment, his heart was beating so loudly that he was convinced the bandits would be able to hear it from miles away. And then the shape vanished, leaving him alone. Darrin stared at where it had been for a long moment, wondering just what it was. A bandit? Another refugee? Or had he simply imagined the whole thing?
> Shaking his head, he walked onwards ... and right into a river. For an insane moment, he thought he’d found the Jordan, before realising that the river was far too small for anything larger than a toy boat. Austin had told them about building model boats and sailing them on rivers; it was, once again, something rarely practiced on Earth. Darrin felt yet another flash of envy, then pity – pity for everyone stuck on Earth. They would never know the joys of walking through the countryside. But then, no one in their right mind would want to walk on what remained of Earth’s surface, the handful of places that weren't covered by megacities.
Yates’s voice seemed to echo in his head. The people who leave Earth select themselves, he said. Those who remain don’t have the determination to escape or the drive to succeed.
He gritted his teeth, wondering if hearing voices was actually the first sign of madness. Yates had cared about him, he saw that now. He had even cared about Barry, cared enough to try to punish the boys rather than let them run riot. Was that, he wondered bitterly, what it was like to have a real father? Someone who cared, someone who tried to prepare his children for the future, someone who disciplined them when necessary? Fitz had never cared about Darrin, his unwanted stepson; he’d certainly never bothered to try to shape his life. And Fitz might well be dead.
Darrin shivered. Fitz hadn't cared about him. The closest he’d come to any form of encouragement was to point out that Darrin would have to move into his own apartment as soon as he turned seventeen, the legal age for living apart from one’s parents. And he hadn’t really cared about Darrin’s mother either. As long as she let him do whatever he wanted, he didn't care. He'd just claimed the living allowances for himself and used them to drink ... he would have drunk himself into an early grave, if Darrin hadn't beaten him first. Was he dead?
No way to know, Darrin thought. He would never see Earth again, he realised, and he was fine with it. I can spend the rest of my life here.
Your life was wasted, Yates seemed to say. The darkness pressed closer, as if it scented weakness. You cannot read or write, compose an argument – or survive. You have nothing to live for, or to die for. You and those like you are hacking away at Earth’s foundations, tearing your way into its heart. The planet is dying and fools like you are only speeding the whole process up.
“That isn't true,” Darrin said. His head spun. Was he imagining Yates’s voice ... or was something truly supernatural taking place? It didn't seem likely. “I didn’t know ...”
Of course you didn't know, Yates mocked. You never chose to learn. Do you think that Gary is uniquely intelligent? A genius? A delicate flower born among the filth and grime of the lower levels? The curse of your existence is this; the resources you need to actually grow and learn were there all the time, just like the famous ruby shoes. But you needed to make use of them yourself.
You didn't know. No one was allowed to tell you. None of your teachers were ever allowed to tell you that there was something wrong with you, let alone give you a smack when you needed it. Your self-esteem was considered more important than your schooling. No one forced you to start learning. You found it so much easier just to relax and go with the flow. But what do you have to show for twelve years of schooling? You can barely read a simple book, your writing is impossible for anyone other than a cryptologist to understand, your grasp of everything from history to political philosophy is effectively non-existent. You couldn't add one to ten without taking off your shoes.
It was easier to do nothing. And so you did. You fell into bad habits. When you were partnered with Barry, you slipped into minion mode. You did as he wanted until you learned better. But how much trouble would you have saved yourself if you had learnt that lesson earlier? How much respect would you have earned from Austin – or me – if you had stood up to him from the start?
Darrin let out a cry and started to run, trying to escape. But the voice followed him; it was in his head, echoing through his thoughts. He was imagining it, he had to be imagining it ... and yet it seemed all too real. The sun started to glimmer on the horizon and yet he kept running. He ran past trees, their branches leaning out to trap him, then down a long woody slope. And, at the bottom, he saw the Jordan and stopped, dead.
It had to be the Jordan. The river was wide, wider than the giant assembly hall at school on Earth. It flowed rapidly towards the south, towards the sea. The shoreline was nothing more than jagged rocks. Darrin smiled in awe as the sun rose higher, then stumbled as he felt his stomach rumble angrily. He was hungry. But there was nothing to eat.
He looked around, desperately. There were a handful of tiny crabs, far smaller than the giants Austin had caught, scuttling down by the shore. At other times, it would have fascinated him to see them moving on the rocks, their presence only betrayed by their movements. He could have sat down next to them and never noticed, if only they’d kept still. But he couldn't see how to cook them ...
Yates had suggested that they learnt to swim, but Darrin hadn't thought much of it, not after spending so much time in the baths on Earth. They were fun places; the girls wore almost nothing, while the boys showed off in-between gawking at the girls. And there were private baths where a boy and a girl could be together, if they paid the additional fee. But he’d never realised what swimming actually meant until they’d crashed – and by then it had been far too late. A few splashes in the lake barely counted as swimming.
He struggled, trying to remember what Yates had said. The man had been giving them useful advice, yet he hadn't listened very hard. Yates hadn't forced him to listen – of course not, his thoughts mocked him, Yates wasn't there to make you learn, merely to offer you the chance – and he’d barely memorised any of it. How did people stay afloat when they couldn't swim?
A branch appeared, drifting down the river, and he nodded in understanding. They clutched onto something that floated, using it to keep their heads above water. Darrin looked around, then saw another large branch, broken off a tree by the rainstorm. He walked over, picked it up with an effort, then half-dragged it back to the river. Bracing himself, he strode into the water.
It was colder than he’d expected, cold enough to make him think twice about what he was doing. And, it occurred to him, a moment too late, that there might be larger and nastier creatures in the water than crabs. But he forced himself to pull up his legs and let the water sweep him onwards, down towards the sea.
The cold numbed his body and mind. He had to force himself to concentrate, trying to drag up what Yates had told them, then every last detail of his times with Judy. Absently, he wondered what had happened to her on Earth. She wouldn't have waited for him, even if he’d planned to go back to humanity’s dying homeworld. He knew that she couldn't wait for him. She would need a new protector, someone who would look after her in exchange for her body. Silently, Darrin wished her well. There was no point in being jealous, even though he would be expected to be so on Earth. They would never meet again.
Men like you give girls the choice between surrendering to one person or surrendering to them all, Yates seemed to say. Darrin was sure he was hallucinating now, delusions brought on by hunger and the cold. You think of them as nothing more than objects. You feast your eyes on pornographic material that would have shocked an earlier generation, then you set out to make it real. The rape porn you watched was an act, staged by actors. But the rapes that took place in your school and CityBlock were all too real.
“I didn't rape Judy,” he said. It was suddenly very hard to move his lips. “I didn’t!”
Do you think, Yates accused, that there is something virtuous in not committing rape?
His voice seemed to harden as the cold seeped in. Judy could never do anything for herself, ever. None of you, boys or girls, were ever taught to defend yourselves. She was never allowed to be truly independent. In order to remain even remotely safe, she needed a protector. Maybe you didn't take her by force. But tell me – was what you did not comparable to rape?
“I don'
t know,” Darrin answered.
He felt his mind start to wander as he looked at the shoreline. It seemed to be nothing more than endless forest. A handful of animals were standing by the waterline, drinking from the river. Darrin wondered, absently, what they made of the human floating down on a makeshift raft, then realised that he was definitely slipping into madness. He’d certainly never discussed Judy with the real Yates.
And yet the thought mocked him. He’d never really bothered about Judy; he certainly hadn't loved her. The realisation left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. He was disgusted at himself, not her. Boys shared tips and tricks for greater sexual enjoyment, for both men and women, but he'd never used them. All that had been important had been his own pleasure. He’d never given a damn about hers.
Be a better person, Yates advised. And don't forget to learn.
The shout caught him by surprise, pulling him out of an undercurrent that threatened to drag him down into madness and death. He looked towards the shore and saw a small village, a large boat and a handful of people, staring at him. Darrin twisted and tried to kick his way towards the jetty, but his legs refused to work. The watchers must have realised that something was badly wrong, for one of them jumped into the water and swam towards him. Darrin relaxed, just long enough to accidentally let go of the branch. He fell under the water a moment later and started to choke. His rescuer caught him just in time.
Darrin coughed and gasped, spitting up water, as he was towed back towards the shore and helped up onto the jetty. The villagers seemed astonished to see him; he realised, dimly, that they were right at the edge of the settlement line. They had no reason to expect to see someone drifting down from the north ... in fact, he realised, they might have good reason to think he was a bandit. Who else would be that far north?
The Empire's Corps: Book 07 - Reality Check Page 33