Raven's Children

by Sabrina Chase

  Gren reached in, but Moire pulled him back. “He’ll be safer there for now. Get the rest out!”

  The fighting seemed to have stopped. Moire tried smashing a cylinder on her own, but whatever material it was made of was too strong for her. She rounded up everyone she could find, but that took precious time, time they didn’t have.

  In the end, they were only able to save three of the hundred or so left in the gestators. Some had been killed by stray bullets, but most had died from lack of oxygen when the power went out. Even the ones they rescued sometimes didn’t survive more than a few minutes, apparently not developed enough to survive outside the gestators. Nobody knew what to do to keep them alive. Even the few medtechs captured alive didn’t know.

  She finally found Alan when the lights were restored. He was crouched by Gren, who was holding the body of one of the premature Created. Tears left tracks through the soot on his face as sobs shook his body.

  “My fault, my fault….‌” he choked out.

  Alan looked up as she approached, the fear in his eyes as he watched Gren changing to relief. He tugged on her hand as he held it, silently begging her to do something. He appeared unharmed, so she forced herself to focus on Gren.

  “This is all Toren’s fault,” Moire said. “None of this would have happened without them.” That was only partly true, and the realization made her numb. These Created would not have died if they hadn’t tried to rescue them.

  “My fault,” Gren said harshly. He bent his head over the childlike body, holding it even closer. “Medical section had its own scrubber. Gas never got to them.” His face twisted, tears flowing even faster. “Should have thought it through. Looked at the plan. It must have been there.”

  “It was my idea,” she said, feeling her throat tighten. “I gave the orders. My responsibility.”

  “We wanted those orders,” one of her crew said in a soft voice. Others had gathered around them, somber and sad.

  Gren was making keening noises now, and Alan pressed close. She felt like screaming herself. This was not how it was supposed to happen, but it had, and now she had to deal with the consequences. She was the captain, and that meant she was responsible for all of them. She couldn’t let him grieve now. They had to keep going or it could get much, much worse.

  “Gren.” He wiped his hand over his face, but he kept gazing at the little Created. “I still need you. They need you. All the ones that are still alive.” He looked up. “We can’t leave this place intact. If Toren knows somebody found it, all the other Created they shipped will be tidily done away with before anybody can get to them. They’ll come hunting, too. How long will it take you to rig a remote for the reactor?” she asked.

  Gren sighed. “I’ll have to get around the safety interlocks. Two hours. We’ll want some sort of feedback to make sure it’s working, too.” He got up slowly, carefully laying the Created back in the shattered gestator. “I just wish….‌”

  “I’ll get someone in here with a vid,” Moire said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Take one of the tanks as evidence. Yolanda should be getting all the files, too. We’ll get them justice, Gren. Somehow.” He nodded heavily and trudged off.

  Moire turned to Alan, who was standing nearby looking at her uncertainly. All of her fear exploded full force. “Don’t…‌you…‌ever run off like that again!” she yelled. He flinched. She took a gasping breath, trying desperately to get back in control. “I was frightened for you,” she said, more calmly. “You didn’t know how many people were there, or whether they had guns.”

  “I can shoot,” he mumbled.

  How could she explain? How many other mothers had to give their young children combat strategy lessons? Moire narrowed her eyes. Alan wasn’t acting like he usually did when he didn’t understand something. He knew why she was angry. He’d run away on purpose, so she couldn’t stop him from taking dangerous risks.

  If there was an afterlife, her parents were probably laughing themselves sick. She had one advantage over them, though. She knew what a risk–‌taker would consider a threat.

  “If you can’t follow orders I won’t let you have a gun.”

  He stared at her, shocked and horrified, and he clutched his gun in both hands. Yes, that seemed to reach him. Her sudden fear was replaced by a flood of relief, and before he could move she hugged him fiercely. He could have been killed. “You have to be more careful,” she whispered. “I would be so sad if you were hurt….‌” She couldn’t speak for a moment, and hugged him even tighter.

  Alan ducked his head beside hers. “Gren was sad.” He said it as if he had only now understood. “All of him.”

  “I would be more sad than that.”

  He pulled back and looked at her with a worried frown, his gold–‌brown eyes searching her face. “You would?” She nodded. “I won’t get hurt, then.”

  She couldn’t help smiling. If it were only that easy…‌ “Come on, kid. Let’s get out of here.”

  They headed for the stair out of the medical section. Moire stopped before one of the gestators that was still intact. Leaning her face against the clear surface, she could just make out the floating body in the cloudy amniotic fluid. Even though power had been restored, the instrument readout on the gestator was dark.

  I’m sorry, kid. We tried.

  Moire pulled out her commlink and called Yolanda as they descended. “How’s the loading going?”

  “You wanna wait a day or so? Lots of good stuff here, least the equipment.”

  Moire shook her head. “Too dangerous. We need to leave as soon as Gren gets the reactor rigged. Get as much as you can, OK? And any data files you find.”

  “Yeah, right,” Yolanda sounded unenthusiastic. “Is it worth our time?”

  “If we’re lucky, we can find out things that will nail Toren’s ears to the wall,” Moire said, irritated. “How valuable is that?”

  “Enough for me, Captain.” Yolanda cleared her throat. “I’m on it.”

  Fortin was still working in the lower section when Moire got there.

  “Found this, thought it might be useful.” Madele indicated a small case, open and full of tools and electronic readout panels. “One of the medtechs said you can use it to take those cuffs off.” She smiled grimly. “Thought I’d try it on him, first.”

  “Good idea.”

  Moire waited on the ship for Gren to finish. She kept seeing the bodies and the blood smeared on the walls, smelling the residue of the flash grenades and the pale, salty smell of the spilled amniotic fluid. Alan stayed beside her, and she was glad. He reminded her that they had saved something, that it hadn’t been a total failure.

  At last the signal came. When everyone was on board, she undocked the ship from the station and pulled away, stopping at a distance that was safe but still close enough for the vid they’d left in the reactor control room.

  Gren pushed the switch on his remote on her command, and a brief moment later a blinding light flashed and faded on the visual feed. The remote vid signal went dead, and the bridge scanner showed only a drifting cloud of debris where the station had been.

  “All right,” Moire said into the silence. “Let’s go home.”

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  Ennis had feared his interrogation would begin as soon as the ship undocked. Oberst had certainly planned it that way. When she opened the cabin door and found one of the crew inside setting up a temporary he saw the ugly gleam in her eye, but she didn’t lose control.

  “Hey, this the wrong one?” She held out the billet slip. “Says here two–‌berth cabin, and we got both.”

  The woman didn’t even look up. “Got an extra passenger coming in. Sorry, but you gotta share.”

  As soon as they had the cabin to themselves, Oberst shoved him down on the lower bunk and secured him to the bunk with some strips of memory plastic.

  “We’ll have our little chat soon enough,” she said in a low, threatening voice. “We’re getting on one of our ships at the next stati
on.” She tugged on the memory plastic strips, making sure they were secure, then draped a blanket over him so they were no longer visible.

  The trip was unrelenting misery. Oberst kept a careful eye on him whenever the other passenger was in the cabin, giving him occasional jolts from the control rod if he even attempted to make eye contact. When the injection started to wear off, he was only able to tense against the restraints—‌and Oberst seemed to know exactly when she needed to give him another dose. He didn’t even have a way of telling how much time had passed.

  He counted injections. The third one was just starting to wear off when there was a break in the routine. Oberst had left for the messroom, apparently thinking the other passenger had also gone there, but instead he showed up in the cabin a few minutes later. He was a heavyset man with a silent manner, and generally ignored both of them.

  Ennis struggled to speak, wondering how much help he could ask. First he had to know how close he was to ending up on a Toren ship.

  “Dock. When.” he managed through his clenched jaw.

  The man looked at him, startled. “Huh?”

  “When ship dock. Station.”

  Comprehension cleared the man’s face. “Oh. Six hours.”

  No time. He couldn’t count on Oberst being careless again. “Tell captain. Kidnap!”

  The man stepped back, looking apprehensive. “Hey, your sister’s just trying to take care of you.”

  “Not sister!”

  The door shot open and Oberst came in, breathing deeply. She’d probably run all the way back from the messroom. Her gaze darted between the two of them.

  “Anything wrong?” Her voice revealed nothing but innocent concern, but Ennis felt his heart sink.

  The man shook his head, appearing glad he could hand the situation off to someone else. “He’s not making sense. Time for his meds?”

  “Yeah.” Oberst took out the injector. “I’m sorry he bothered you. He gets crazy sometimes, thinks everyone’s out to get him. Even me!” She laughed in the brainless way she had at Lambert Station. Ennis felt his last hope evaporate as the injection took hold.

  She fussed over Ennis until the man left, and then her face changed from concern to steely fury. She held the control rod in front of his face. “Remember this?” She smiled at his indrawn breath, and activated it. Ennis spasmed. The agony was intense, but all he could do was moan through his clenched teeth. She hit it again, and again. His vision started to darken.

  Gradually he became aware that the pain was ebbing. She was in the top bunk now. He doubted she would leave even for an instant until the ship was docked. He breathed deeply, trying to relax in the aftermath. Sweat was dripping off his face. Involuntarily he moved to wipe it off, then felt the restraints holding his arm.

  He blinked. His arm had moved. He tried moving his other arm. It moved too, slightly and painfully. So. Somehow forcing the joints to move broke the lock of the injection. She’d never used the control rod for that long at full strength. The restraints must have held him rigid enough that the muscle spasms were enough to do the job.

  She’d just given him an injection, though. He needed to keep the joints moving, or they’d lock up again. Slowly, carefully, he shifted as much as he could without making any sound that would alert her.

  It felt like knives when he moved, but he kept on. This was his last chance at escape. If Oberst got him on a Toren ship he was dead.

  When the ship docked Oberst pulled him up from the bunk, and he fought to keep his joints rigid, as she would expect them to be. With a quick glance to make sure they were unobserved, she used the injector with the local antidote so he could walk.

  He tried moving slowly and stiffly, to see if she would use more, but she just pulled him along.

  Every step sent sharp, jabbing jolts of agony through his joints. Somehow he stumbled his way out of the ship, unable to focus because of the pain. It was a little better out in the station. He had a brief respite when Oberst stopped at an information kiosk. As she searched, he surreptitiously moved his arms, judging the range of motion, looking about desperately for inspiration.

  It was a poor, beat–‌up station, and not very crowded. He wondered where it was. Definitely in the Fringe; they hadn’t been traveling that long.

  Oberst dragged him along with a jerk, muttering. “Three levels down. This piece of crap station has four levels?”

  The dropdowns were located in the center of the station. Oberst held him close, alert for any attempt on his part to get away, especially at the first level security station. Slowly the big box of the dropdown rose from the level below. Instead of a metal door, yellow and black plastic safety strips hung from the top of the dropdown to the ceiling. He’d only seen that in construction sites, but this appeared to have been in place from the beginning.

  Still nothing he could use. They got on, exiting at the next level and waiting for the dropdown going to the next lower level.

  The dropdown they had left moved up again in its shaft. The safety strips on the bottom were not in very good shape. Several were missing, others were broken. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t have a choice.

  Ennis tensed. If he could just time it right…‌

  He watched the dropdown shaft carefully, waiting for the first sign of movement. As soon as the dropdown began to descend, he groaned and began to collapse, shifting closer to the edge.

  Oberst cursed and yanked at him, but by now he had fallen to his knees. The bottom of dropdown was halfway to the floor of the shaft. He fell farther, twitching and making more noises as if he were in pain. Which he was.

  “Dammit, get on your feet!” She went to one knee beside him, holding the control rod. Ennis snatched it away and shoved suddenly with all his strength. Oberst fell back through the safety straps, flailing, and he twisted and kicked her leg out from under her. She yelled as she saw the dropdown descending, a yell that was abruptly cut off with a crunching, grinding sound.

  Ennis scrabbled to stand up again, casting about for the bag she had been carrying. He had to crouch down to pick it up, and he could barely grasp the handle. He ended up sliding the grip over his hand and lifting his arm. It hurt so much…‌he must have done some serious damage breaking his joints free, and using them made it worse.

  Everything had happened so fast nobody had noticed anything was wrong yet, but they would. He had to get away. Oberst might not be dead, and in any case Toren probably had other people on station who might recognize him.

  The dropdown to the upper level was waiting patiently, and he stumbled on. The sudden exertion brought on a wave of sharp, debilitating cramps, and he braced himself against the wall to stay standing.

  Where should he go? The first level had a security station. Maybe they could help him. He’d have to be careful, though. He had to get there before Toren did.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  Moire looked back and sighed. The others were still standing inside the cave. Near the edge, which was progress, but Harvey was peering up at the sky looking even more hunched than usual, and Madele started whenever something moved in the breeze.

  It was peaceful on Sequoyah; the sun starting to go down in glorious color reflected in the sea between the islands. At least, it would be peaceful except for the strenuous discussion they were having.

  “Is it supposed to look like that?” Gren asked suspiciously, pointing at the sky.

  “It’s a sunset, Gren. A really nice one. Earth has one every day.” Sometimes she could get them to accept the newness of planetary living by saying it happened on Earth.

  “We gotta do something,” Harvey said, stubbornly returning to the argument in progress. “We can’t leave them alone. Well, they aren’t alone now; they’re all asleep. Together.” He shrugged, raising his hands in an eloquent gesture indicating he was just reporting the facts.

  “Why?” Gren shrieked in a whisper. “It isn’t decent!”

  Moire snuck a quick glance to make sure Alan was out of earshot. “They have
the minds of children,” she pointed out. “Even if their bodies are adult, they haven’t figured out, um, anything yet.”

  “That’s the hormone suppressant,” Madele Fortin added in an acid undertone.

  “Hallelujah.” Harvey agreed.

  “Besides, it’s what they are used to,” Moire said. “We’ve changed everything else, and it frightens them. It’s not like they’re doing anything, Gren!”

  Just sleeping, that was all. Together. In piles. She had to admit, it did look like the aftermath of an orgy. Except everybody had their clothes on.

  She had two nightmares now. One featured blood and body parts. The other involved explaining the facts of life to over two hundred Created, including her son. Maybe I can bribe Madele when the time comes. It would probably have to be a pretty large bribe, though.

  “We can’t keep them here,” Harvey said. “Montero found the white–‌haired one playing with the power wrench today. If he doesn’t pull his own ears off, he’ll be disassembling equipment.”

  They had enough food, thanks to the sargasso and Toren’s supplies for the station. What they didn’t have were babysitters, and it was becoming a problem. When the Created stopped being frightened, they started being curious. The ones they had rescued from the ship had been on Sequoyah longer than the others and were becoming more confident. It wouldn’t take the rest much time to catch up.

  “OK, the cave is a bad idea. We’re going to have to build shelters elsewhere—‌maybe that island north of the bay.” That should keep them out of trouble, mostly. Until they learned how to swim, or build boats.

  The prisoners from the Toren facility were already on islands halfway around the planet. The weather was warm enough that tarps were sufficient shelter for them, but she wanted something more for the kids. Besides, they were going to have to get serious about digging in for defense.

  “We won’t be able to do it ourselves. Anybody know some decent construction firms?”

  Yolanda shrugged. Gren frowned, rubbing his chin. “Kind of thing you’re thinking of? Bunch at Jessack, some that do surface and station work.”