Chapter 26
Southern Oregon
August 18, 2079
AFTER PICKING UP KALA’S starving refugees, the two vehicles returned north on back roads to avoid NAU-5 and Eugene, exactly as Kala would have done. They’d had to leave the Jeep behind, as they had no access to hydrogen fuel. “We have lots of other vehicles, anyway,” Kiran said.
Night was falling as they passed through a town called Sweet Home, where Kiran told her the Whitcomb agents sometimes traded with human survivors. They left the town behind as the road worked its way upstream, following alongside a river that meandered down from the mountains.
Ahead, growing larger as they approached, Kala saw an enormous waterfall shining in the moonlight. She was impressed by the size of the fall, the dam and the reservoir above it. Kiran told her that the manmade lake was called by the odd human name of Green Peter. The dam’s hydroelectric plant was still operational, and the agents were tapping electricity from it. The refuge was located upstream of the dam, so that if it ever broke, the inhabitants would be safe and still have access to water.
The moonlit peaks of a rugged mountain chain were visible through the trees as the small cavalcade wound its way through thick pine forests that obscured the north side of the lake. They turned onto a dirt track that curved sharply south, and Kala realized they were on a small peninsula protruding into the lake, the wide mouth of the creek forming its western side. The vehicles turned into a dirt lot and stopped, and everyone climbed out. Several other vehicles were parked there, as well as a few boats sitting on trailers.
The agents escorted Kala’s group down a short path from the lot to a wide clearing, in the middle of which sat a large, wooden-floored pavilion, its heavy canvas sides rolled up for the warm weather. At one end was an open kitchen with a wood-burning cookstove; the remaining space was filled with long tables and benches. A pleasant aroma of wood smoke and pine pitch hung in the air.
A small group of agents were waiting in the clearing to greet them. Kala knew Sidra right away from their earlier Dronet contact. She felt a tiny shock inside when she saw him in person, and wondered why she should have such a reaction. He was a bit small and wiry for an Unathi, but had wide shoulders and was muscled like a greyhound. His dun-colored hair was bound in a bunch of thin braids and dreadlocks.
He came straight to her and took her hand, smiling. They were the same height. Kala sensed a boundless energy in him, and something else—expectation maybe, or ambition.
I know of you, but I don’t know you, he said to her privately. Why have you done this?
She didn’t answer him right away, taken off guard by the question and wondering how to respond. The answer was complex; she wasn’t sure she understood it herself. In any case, she was sick of trying to explain her actions.
Finally she answered but evaded his question. It’s strange, isn’t it? It seems we Unathi can no longer know each other instantly anymore, like we used to. We’re different now. I am, and you are, too. I just don’t know how yet.
He moved closer and gently pushed a stray lock of hair out of her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek.
This kind of instant intimacy and touching was perfectly normal for their kind. So why should her heart be speeding up? Their eyes locked, and she felt as though Sidra could somehow read everything she’d been through in the last weeks.
Do you love these humans so much? he asked her kindly. A smile played on his lips.
Kala bristled, but said nothing more.
Sidra nodded as though she had answered, then moved on to the rest of the group, greeting everyone, even the humans, with a brief embrace, learning their names and bidding them welcome. He was closely followed everywhere he went by a male agent, Saban, whom he introduced as his “assistant.” Another male agent named Tobe and a human woman followed behind Saban, keeping a short distance.
Saban and Tobe were behaving strangely, Kala thought; they didn’t interact with her over the Dronet as would be polite and expected, and their eyes slid away from hers whenever she tried to catch their gazes. She confirmed silently with Wilm that he was being treated the same way.
“You must be exhausted; you need to eat and then rest,” Sidra said to the humans in flawless English. “We’ll talk tomorrow. If you need anything, tell Sarah—she’s the liaison right now—and she’ll take care of you.”
Sarah, who was somewhere in her thirties and had a mop of tousled dirty-blonde hair, smiled and waved at them.
“Right now,” continued Sidra, “you’ll be shown to the washrooms so you can get cleaned up, and then we’ll have a good, hot meal ready for you in the pavilion. After that, you’ll be taken to your cabins. You can sleep well knowing you’re completely safe here.”
Kala realized she was watching him too much and forced her gaze away, annoyed with herself.
Sidra nodded to Saban, who spoke briefly to Tobe, who moved forward to escort the humans to the washrooms.
Kala felt a deep unease. It was exceedingly strange that any of their kind should wait on or obey another; this was unheard of in Unathi culture. She and Wilm exchanged a glance, and Kala realized with a chill that the mission was changing them even more than she had thought.
Kala and Wilm made their own way to the Unathi washrooms, guided by their drones. They showered and were provided with fresh clothing, after which they returned to the pavilion. Sidra was waiting for them to show them to his table. Saban stood behind him.
“So what do you think of our little home?” Sidra asked in Unathi as they sat down. “I’m very proud of it.”
“You should be,” Wilm said. “You’ve done an excellent job here.”
“Yes, it has a nice, homey feel,” Kala remarked. “How did you come to build a refuge way out here?”
“We were initially assigned to Portland,” Sidra replied. “We had a big team of agents and we cleared the area of betas and epsilons pretty quickly, so some of us continued on down to work on Eugene. When that area was done, Saban and I and some others brought all the betas we could out here to establish a more permanent refuge away from the cities, as they’re becoming unlivable. I thought this place was ideal. We’re a small refuge; we have around 250 humans and twenty-three Guardians.” He flashed her a beatific smile. “And now you’re here, and very welcome. I hope you like it.”
“I’m sure we will,” Kala said. “And our humans? There’s an epsilon baby and two non-betas—the father and daughter. Will your agents accept them? According to the mission directives, the status of protectee is only for betas. And epsilons, of course, are to be—” she stopped and swallowed.
“I have given orders that they are to be treated exactly like the betas,” Sidra said smoothly. His smile never seemed to leave his face fully; it just curled up sometimes, ready to leap out again wide and bright, as it did now. “I promise you, they’ll be unmolested.”
Kala nodded. She wanted to say, Orders? Really? but decided to let it go. The humans were back from washing up, and they were settling down at their own table in much the same style of segregation that had been practiced in SanFran. The food was brought out from the cooking area and Kala realized that humans were doing all the cooking, cleaning and serving. They were waiting on the Unathi, essentially. Another glance at Wilm confirmed that he had noticed this, too.
She looked around at the other Unathi, some of whom had been on the team that had picked up Kala and her people. Still others had joined in for a late meal, sitting down at the Unathi tables. Kala detected a coldness among them, a wall erected to keep her out, as Saban had done. They wouldn’t communicate with her, but at times she thought she could sense their eyes on her, and she shifted uncomfortably. A few among them, however, smiled at her and sent greetings, and she felt a little better.
She put the issue out of her mind for the moment and paid attention to her meal, eating her fill for the first time in what seemed like months. The food was prepared by humans, but was to Unathi tastes; she noticed the human
s were eating both meat and vegetables.
As she ate, she kept an eye on her group of humans. They were eating and talking animatedly with Sarah and some of the refuge’s other betas, and seemed to be enjoying themselves. Victoria scurried over to Kala for a quick hug, and then returned to sit next to her father again.
When the meal was over, Sidra gave his commanding nod, and Saban went to escort the humans to their cabins.
Brandon rose, holding the baby, and turned to catch Kala’s eye.
“I will stop by soon to say good night,” she called to him, and he smiled and nodded. Then they were gone. The other agents slipped away, leaving only Kala, Wilm, and Sidra, along with his ever-present shadow—Saban at the moment.
They strolled a path leading between grouped cabins toward the far end of camp. The path opened into another clearing, a smaller one with its own firepit, surrounded by shelters made of sturdy canvas tents erected upon wood platforms.
“This is where we agents live,” Sidra said, leading them to one of the tents. “You and Wilm can sleep in this one, with Delhei. She’s in, but she’s on drone watch right now. Please feel free to let me know if you have any questions or problems. Hail me any time—any time at all.” He flashed them one last smile, lingering on Kala for an extra beat, then bid them good night and left.
Kala and Wilm went in and put their packs on the empty beds. There was a small storage chest for each bed and one desk for the occupants to share. Delhei was sitting cross-legged on her bunk. She smiled and greeted the newcomers, then went back to concentrating on her drones, eyes closed, hands resting on her knees.
Kala unpacked and then gave Wilm a good-night hug. “I’m going to go and check on the others.”
He nodded and began climbing wearily into bed. “See you in the morning,” he said, yawning.
Stifling her own yawn, Kala walked through the darkness under the trees, letting her drones guide her to Brandon and Alex’s cabin, which they shared with two single beta males. Brandon had Little Kala with him and Victoria was sharing Alex’s bunk. She had insisted on being placed with her father.
“How are you doing? Is everything all right?” Kala asked. She sat down on a bunk and Victoria immediately climbed onto her lap.
“Guess what, I already have a friend, her name is Sylvia, we’re going down to the creek tomorrow,” the little girl chattered, bouncing with excitement.
“That is wonderful,” Kala said, smiling at her warmly.
“Yeah, it seems pretty good here,” Brandon said. “I think this is gonna work out. They want to put Little Kala in with some other young kids, but I thought I’d keep her with me the first few nights. They gave me some supplies for her. I’ll leave her in the nursery during the day, though.”
Kala nodded. “That seems wise.”
“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done, Kala,” Alex said, his soft eyes shining. “If there’s ever anything I can do for you, promise me you’ll let me know.” He kept badgering her until she promised, laughing.
“Well then,” she said, “if you are all okay, I think I will go and get a nice, long sleep for the first time since—well, since we left SanFran.”
“Yes, you go on,” Brandon said. “See you tomorrow.”
After breakfast the next morning, Sidra offered to show Kala and Wilm around the grounds. They strolled together down to the creek, where some humans were fishing with nets, placing their catch in large baskets.
“Have either of you eaten fish yet?” Sidra asked.
It was Tobe serving shadow duty today, Kala noticed as the Unathi male trailed after them. “Not yet,” she said about the fish, unable to suppress a shudder at the thought.
“We’ll be having some tonight, so you’ll get another chance to try to get used to it,” Sidra said with a grin.
Victoria was at the creek, playing with Sylvia. She waved madly at Kala when she saw her. Kala waved back, smiling.
From there they went to the farm, which was laid out further down the peninsula on wide, flat grounds alongside the creek for irrigation. The vegetable plots were fenced and netted against wild animal incursions.
“One of my humans told me that pine forests tend to make the land unsuitable for farming,” Kala observed.
Sidra nodded and said, “Yes, that’s true. We are fortunate to have some gardening experts among our betas, who’ve worked out a solution. Something to do with fish fertilizer; to be honest I don’t really understand it much. It works—that’s the important thing.”
The plots were being worked by some beta humans, who stopped and waved. Kala waved back, making a note to herself to volunteer for that duty.
Sidra led them on, and Kala was surprised to see pens with livestock in them, mostly goats and chickens.
“We Unathi don’t eat meat, of course, but we do eat the goats’ milk and cheese, and the chicken eggs,” Sidra explained. “The humans sometimes slaughter them and eat the meat.”
As they made their way back to camp, Kala spotted some activity in an empty pen. She went over to watch, and the others followed. Three agents—two Ei Unathi and one Bei—were sparring with some humans, who were teaching them various fighting techniques. Kala recognized the Bei agent as Jialy, a likeable girl with whom she had trained at the research center in Anzim. Jialy had been sent to Portland, Kala remembered, while she and her bondmates had chosen SanFran.
Jialy paused in her activities to smile at Kala. So glad you made it up here! Let’s catch up on stuff later.
Sure, Kala answered. Really good to see you again.
One of the human males, seeing Jialy distracted, scooped up a handful of dirty straw and threw it her. Jialy shrieked and took a flying leap at the guy, and they both went down, laughing. Soon Jialy had him pinned and was stuffing the straw down his shirt.
Kala smiled. Jialy had always been one for horseplay.
“We’re learning a great deal from our humans,” Sidra said as they walked on. “They’ve been invaluable in teaching us how to shoot guns, and other combat arts.”
Kala shook her head—more strangeness. “Guns? I’m surprised,” she said, and Wilm murmured his agreement.
“And why not?” Sidra asked. “We sometimes run into problems even with human attackers when we rely only on our drones, and we can’t use them at all to control the Ghal. The guns stack the odds more in our favor and make it much less likely we’ll have any casualties.”
“So you’re all right with killing and maiming?” Kala asked, and immediately regretted it. This man was helping them voluntarily, and very possibly risking the disapproval of other agents by sheltering an epsilon human. She didn’t want to alienate him.
Sidra was silent for a moment, and then said quietly, “I don’t enjoy it, but if it means saving one of our agents, then yes, I’m all right with it. Especially considering we’re only killing Ghal or non-beta humans who are probably going to die anyway.”
Kala just nodded, quickly exchanging a look with Wilm.
A moment later, she stopped walking and swayed as a wave of dizziness passed over her.
“Are you all right, Kala?” Wilm asked, alarmed.
“I–I’m fine,” she said. She bent over, placing her hands on her knees and taking in a few deep breaths. “Please, go on.”
After a moment, she straightened and kept walking, but didn’t hear any more of what Sidra was saying. Her mind was spinning. How could she possibly know that girl, Jialy? She was completely certain there hadn’t been any Bei in training at the center. And yet, when she thought back, she could definitely remember Jialy there. Suddenly Kala recalled having played with a Bei child when she was young. There had been Bei around everywhere as she was growing up, and then later as she was becoming an agent. They were a minority, but a definite part of society. At the same time, she had a completely different set of memories in which the Bei didn’t exist.
Her mind was doing its best to reject this weird phenomenon.
Back at the cleari
ng, Sidra went off on other business, and Kala walked into the empty pavilion and sat down.
“What’s wrong, Kala?” Wilm asked, following her to a bench. “I can tell something’s going on. Talk to me.”
“Wilm, did you know any Bei back home, before we came here?”
“Of course. I worked with one at the Center before the X-crisis. Why?”
Kala stared at him. That’s right—their instructors had said this would happen. As soon as the agents started rescuing and protecting beta humans, a whole line of their descendants would spring into existence in the future. She remembered quite clearly one instructor—Narana, that was her name—saying, You will have grown up with the new people they will have originated in the same batch as you. They’ll have been your friends since childhood. But hadn’t she said the agents wouldn’t be aware of the changes? They would have no memory of the time before, when there weren’t any Bei—that would be the old timeline. Wilm didn’t seem to remember, but somehow Kala did.
Araka, are you doing this?
I’m afraid so, dear one. I can’t help it—I remember everything, and therefore so must you.
Kala pressed her hands to the sides of her head. How can you possibly remember events from a timeline that no longer exists? Araka—what are you?
No answer.
Kala sighed. Wilm was looking at her, perplexed. “Tell me this, then,” she said. “The Bei among us would never turn into Xin—they didn’t have the genetic flaw. So why did we have to carry out this mission? Weren’t there enough Bei to carry on the race?”
His brow furrowed, forming deep creases. “They must have told you this in orientation,” he said. “That’s just it—there weren’t enough Bei to carry on the race, so we had to do this in order to create more of them to replace us.”
Even as he spoke, she had a “new” memory of an instructor saying just that. Along with it came a flood of others, interactions with Bei she had lived and worked with.
The X-Variant (The Guardians Book 1) Page 22