The Kota

by Sunshine Somerville

  Well, that was easier than I could’ve hoped, he thought. This must be one of those things Trok says is fated. Will the rest go as smoothly? She’s going to be hard to persuade. What was wrong with her back there? My timing isn’t very good – she’s obviously upset about something. I hope I can get her to believe me.

  Zaak drove out of Capital City, all the time keeping an eye on his sister for any sign she was regaining consciousness.

  Four days after the rescue op, Zaak still had to leave the gene-repressor around her neck. He’d also taken away the knife he’d found in her boot. Zaak understood she hated being held in his subterranean base’s holding cell, but he didn’t want her to have free rein in the base just yet. He wasn’t that blind to human behavior, and he knew she’d find a way to escape…or kill him. Nothing he was doing was helping her trust issues, although he’d tried to gain points by giving her decent meals and several changes of clothes. She’d at least accepted these gestures, ate the food, and changed out of her original clothes. Her new, fitted pants and sleeveless shirt were fashionable, but he’d kept her clothes simple, like what she’d worn when he brought her in. She hadn’t shown any appreciation of his considerations, and his hopes to win her over in this regard had fizzled away. So much for his gained insights on women.

  Zaak had been sitting with her inside the holding cell for an hour, trying to have a pleasant conversation. So far, nothing was working. She’d just spat at him when he’d attempted reverse psychology, and a minute of complete silence had gone by.

  Annoyed with his lack of progress, Zaak tapped her knife on the side of his chair. The metal-on-metal sound echoed around the concrete walls of the windowless room. His chair, her cot, and a bag of clothes were the only things in the cell. A toilet, sink, and shower were in a side area. The cell had only one door, and by this door was a one-way viewing window.

  She lay on her cot, facing him with her hands folded behind her head. “So you’re trying to tell me,” she said finally, “that Cruelthor forced Vedanleé to give me up?”

  “Yes, that’s what Trok told me. I-”

  “How old are you?”

  He failed to see her point. “Twenty-three. That makes you twenty-six.”

  “Good,” she mocked, “you’ve read my file.”

  “You don’t have a file.”

  She frowned. “What I’m saying is, how is it that you’re twenty-three and you only know what this Trok person tells you? Everything you’ve told me so far about these supposed Kota prophecies and all that rot comes from Trok. What if he’s lying to you? He might just be an enemy of the Dominion who’s using you to get to me. When he comes, he’ll probably slay you. Then you’ll find out you were being used all along. You follow this person so blindly, but how do you know-”

  “Between the two of us, I’m hardly the one who follows authority blindly. Trok-” Zaak closed his mouth and forced himself to calm down.

  She smiled, apparently having expected this reaction from him.

  She’s trying to mess with my head, thought Zaak. I could be in trouble here – she’s more practiced at this sort of thing.

  “Okay,” she continued in a humoring tone. “So what’s this you were saying about Cruelthor forcing Vedanleé to give me up?” She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the cot, leaning her elbows on her thighs.

  This change in body language told Zaak she really was interested, despite her attempts to feign otherwise. Reading her body language like Trok had taught him was the only way he understood any of her behavior at all.

  She’s even harder to read than ordinary people, he thought.

  Still, glad for the interaction, he said, “Here’s the whole story – and, yes, I got it from Trok. After Vedanleé ran off with you, Cruelthor’s father went mad from her curse and died. Before he died, he told Cruelthor about you and the Kota prophecies. Then Cruelthor came to power. He thought you’d be useful as a powerful weapon, as long as you never knew who you really were. Cruelthor sent hundreds of operatives around the globe, and eventually they found you and your mother. They threatened your life and hers if she didn’t give you up, so she did. You entered the Dominion; she disappeared. Trok doesn’t even know where she went because she can use her magic to hide even from Trok. Cruelthor tried to track her down too, but he never found her either.”

  “Cruelthor is the type to threaten his own mother.” She chewed her lip for a moment. “So these prophecies you’ve been telling me about are the same ones Cruelthor knew?”

  “Trok thinks so.” Zaak had seen before that she did know something of the prophecies. It was encouraging that her curiosity was growing. “Cruelthor knew you’d have power as the firstborn with the Mark. That’s why he wanted you in the Dominion, even if you were a Kota Warrior threat.”

  She nodded in understanding. “There were whispers about a Kota prophecy, but I never uncovered the whole truth. I never knew what Cruelthor meant by a ‘power’ inside me – I just thought he meant my mutate-genes. I didn’t dare ask or look into what this prophecy was.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. I’ve heard how the Dominion Youth works. Cruelthor probably was counting on the fact that you were too brainwashed to…”

  Shut up, he thought. Don’t push too far!

  As he feared, she responded with cold silence. Then she spoke with a controlled tone. “Right before you kidnapped me, I lied to Cruelthor. I said I didn’t have the information he wanted from my last mission. He knew I was lying – I could see it. Cruelthor’s always had reason to fear I’d prophetically betray the Dominion, and now he’s not sure it isn’t true. I don’t think my worth matters to him anymore. He’s going to slay me, so I’ve got nothing to lose. But if I’m going to leave the Dominion and fulfill some prophecy, I need a lot more than what you’ve given me thus far. I’ve been lied to my entire life. You think I don’t know that? As far as I can tell, you’re the same. I’m useful, so you’ll pretend to need me and even love me, seeing as this whole scam runs on you being my brother. But that’ll change as soon as I do something you don’t like. Then you’ll try to slay me or sell me off to someone else who thinks I’m useful. I’m just moving from one zoo to another. So, why should I listen to anything you say?”

  “Because it’s the truth, maybe?” Zaak made a face, knowing he needed to chill. “I know a lot of people have lied to you, but I’m telling the truth.” He could see this wasn’t enough.

  “You’ll never convince me you’re my brother. You’re a good-looking kid, but other than that I don’t see much family resemblance.” She lay on the cot and faced the wall, done with him.

  Zaak looked at his sister a moment before deciding he was getting nowhere. As he left the holding cell and locked it behind him, he realized he wasn’t showing her anything more promising than what the Dominion offered. The Dominion had done its work on her quite well. Cruelthor had known who and what she was prophetically from the moment he’d gone after her. He’d used her for his own purposes and broken her will so she was no threat to him. Now that the Dominion – all she’d ever known – was turning vile in her eyes, she’d rather die than fight. She thought she had nothing to live for.

  Sand, thought Zaak. Of course she believes I’m going to use her like Cruelthor did. In a way, I am using her. And in a way, I guess Trok is using me. And fate is using Trok… But Trok chose his work. I chose to accept this mission. She has a choice too. I have to show her this is worth it, that it’s right. We could save the world from the DRK! What better purpose could there be?

  Zaak made his way through the windowless corridors to the command center in the middle of the base. When he entered the room, he slumped into a chair by a console and moaned dramatically. Holding his head in his hands, he then let his head fall against the control panel before him.

  “You look worried.”

  Zaak looked up and saw Eva, the base’s AI unit’s holo-person, standing with her hands on her hips. The female voice was believable, but it was a little flat
and lifeless. Because Eva was three-dimensional, he often forgot she wasn’t really standing before him. Her long, neon green dreadlocks hung over her thin frame, and her white eyes blinked at him over her sarcastic smile. Of course she was only a computer hologram, but Zaak often conversed with this prized AI unit and treated Eva as he had the moon on Phantasya. Because he’d lived alone in the base when he’d installed the unit, Zaak had placed display modules along every hall and in every room. This allowed Eva to appear anywhere in the base. All he had to do was speak her name within range of a display module, and that engaged the system, which also linked him to the central computer.

  “Eva, I am worried. I can’t get her to believe a word I say, and I’m not sure Trok can do any better.” Zaak made a face with a confessional whimper. “I used the pager to signal him, you know. I’m desperate. What’s worse is that she’s starting to make me question why I believe everything Trok tells me. She’s good.”

  “You funny things of flesh and mind. You act as if you could take on the world one moment only to have an anxiety attack the next because you burn your toast. It’s a wonder you ever get out of bed in the morning. How brave you must be to face the unknown of a new day when you’re so fragile. You bleed so easily, and yet – judging by the histories you’ve installed in my memory – humans do senseless things every day that could kill you. Your life is precious, but you sit in this dark base, waiting for a woman to believe in you. So what if she doesn’t? The population contains millions of other women. Move on.”

  “Eva, I can’t.” Zaak ran his hands through his hanging bangs. “I’ve explained family to you before, and you know my mission concerning the Kota Warriors. If I can’t convince Loree to join me, we’re in trouble.”

  “I intended no harm. I was simply offering an objective opinion about the human race in general. You seem to fixate on that which you can’t control. All any of you want is to be proven right. I’ve seen it over and over in the history program you installed. You’re very frail, confused, emotional creatures, if you ask me.” Eva froze momentarily, which meant the central computer sent her an alert. “A portal just opened in the corridor. You may wish to greet your uncle.”

  “Eva, thanks. I’ll go see him. Coming along, or are you too fed up with us emotional creatures?”

  “I’m already there.” She blew a kiss and faded from the display.

  Zaak figured she’d moved to the display module wherever Trok was waiting. As he hurried down the corridor, he saw he was right. His uncle stood conversing with Eva and a tall, lanky, blond, maybe thirty-year-old man. Zaak didn’t have a clue who the new man was, but the guy didn’t really matter – Zaak was just glad Trok had answered his plea for help.

  Zaak slowed his approach to study his uncle.

  Trok looks more annoyed than angry, he thought. That’s okay. I can deal with Trok being annoyed; an angry Trok wouldn’t be helpful. He thinks I should be able to handle this on my own. I wish he’d remember that he was the one who told me Loree’s stubborn. Maybe this is the chance he needs to get over his guilt. Yeah, he’s got that depressed look again. –Who’s the tall guy?

  “Hello, Zaak.” Trok patted his armband. “I assumed from your signal that Loree isn’t listening to you, so I brought someone to help.” He turned to the stranger. “This is Matsuri, the Underground commander who runs Solarus 5.”

  That made Zaak raise an eyebrow. He’d never met anyone who worked on the orbital station, but he owned a Solarus transmitter and was happy to have it.

  “Also,” said Trok, “Matsuri was your sister’s partner in the Youth. He might be able to help us win over his old friend.”

  “Hello,” said the blond man with a nervous shuffle.

  Zaak nodded in greeting as he looked up at Matsuri. Zaak knew his own physique was nothing to be ashamed of, but he wished he had some of this guy’s height. He told Matsuri, “I’ve done everything to get through to her, but you people really were brainwashed. She’s been here four days now, but…”

  “I say we throw her back,” put in Eva.

  Trok sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Well, enough delay. Where is she? I always get turned around in this place.”

  Zaak slapped his uncle on the back and led them up the corridor. When the three men arrived at the holding cell, they first looked through the one-way window. Inside, the woman they were concerned about lay on the cot with her arms at her sides and her head tipped back to face the ceiling. The gene-repressor blinked around her neck, but that was the only movement in the cell.

  Eva appeared from the hall’s display module. “She’s been like this since your last discussion. I’ve been monitoring her as you requested, Zaak. I believe you exacerbated the situation a bit.”

  Oh, thanks, thought Zaak.

  “Eva, switch offline,” he said. “We shouldn’t need you for a while.”

  The AI blew a kiss and faded away.

  Trok turned from the window. “Matsuri should go in alone with her. A familiar face might do some good.”

  Zaak nodded and opened the holding cell’s door for Matsuri to enter. “Good luck.”

  The Underground commander gave Zaak another nervous smile and entered the cell. Once Matsuri was inside, Zaak shut the door and returned to the window with Trok to watch his sister’s reaction. She’d closed her eyes to rest, but when Matsuri approached she started and jumped to her feet.

  “Whoa, Bulls, it’s me!” Matsuri held up his hands and stopped his approach.

  She looked at him with a scowl, fists raised. “It’s been a confusing couple of days, so give me a hint. Who is ‘me’ exactly?”

  He held out his hands to show he was unarmed. “I defected from the Dominion about ten years ago, remember? I’m-”

  “Matsuri.” She didn’t relax her tense stance. “What are you doing here? I heard you joined the Underground. Why are you with this Zaak person?”

  “I’m not with him.” Matsuri shrugged. “They tracked me down because of our past. Bulls, Zaak really is your brother. Trok told me the whole story when he found me. They want you to join Zaak, leave the Dominion.”

  She looked as if she was starting to believe their sincerity, but she had one thing to hold to. “Look, leaving the Dominion isn’t that easy.”

  “You think it was easy for me to leave? Bulls, I dreamed of getting away for years before Edlyn and Beathabane got me out. I had to lie to you. I had to leave you behind in that place. The Underground didn’t trust me for years, and I was completely on my own. Beathabane tried to help, but the Underground…” Matsuri took a breath. “You were lucky. You had someone who cared enough to come in and get you.”

  Ooh, that’s me, thought Zaak.

  He grinned at Trok. Seeing the same old look of guilt on his uncle’s face, Zaak resisted the urge to vocally congratulate himself. He looked back into the holding cell.

  His sister crossed her arms and continued to glare at her old partner. “If you know about this prophecy stuff, then you know Cruelthor’s already worried I’m a traitor. When I got back from my last mission, I don’t think he believed my cover story for why things didn’t go according to plan. My life was already hanging in the balance, and now this – I’ve been missing for four days! Cruelthor won’t care I was taken against my will. He’ll only see that I’m gone. If the Dominion ever finds me, I’ll be slain instantly – you should know that better than anyone. The best I can hope for is to run away and disappear. You want me to join the rebels? Really? The rebels hate me! I’m in more danger from them than from the Dominion!”

  “If you join Zaak, he’ll protect you, Bulls.”

  She snorted a laugh. “Does Zaak know you tried to blow me to pieces in order to earn your way into the Underground? Why would anyone think I’d trust you to tell me the truth? I should slay you right now.”

  Matsuri made a face. “Still pissed about that, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  Zaak shuffled and turned to his uncle. “See, Trok. Loree’s too scared to j
oin us. She’s shown some interest in the prophecies, but… She’s a mess. This is going nowhere.”

  “Zaak, we have hope. Do you know about her last mission?”

  “I know she lied to Cruelthor because something went wrong.”

  “Something went right.” Trok looked away from the viewing window. “She’s close to accepting what we’re offering. I’ve been watching your past four days with her. She wants this. Trust me.”

  Before Zaak could argue, Trok opened the door. They entered together and walked to stand beside Matsuri.

  “And who is this?” She looked ready to snap.

  Zaak held up his hands and explained. “This is Trok, our uncle. He’s the one who found Matsuri and brought him here to help us.” He made a face at the tall commander. “Not that it did much good.”

  The room fell silent as she stared at Trok. Her face betrayed a look of recognition as her gaze swung from Trok to Zaak and back to their uncle. She took a step forward to Trok. Absentmindedly, she reached for the gene-repressor around her neck and held it as she looked at him.

  Trok swallowed hard and smiled down at his long-lost niece. “Hello, Loree.”

  Just when Zaak thought things might turn sentimental, she wrinkled her face and nailed Trok in the groin with her knee. She would’ve done more, but Matsuri and Zaak rushed to catch her arms before she punched him. They pulled her back. Although she kicked against them, she was only fighting half-heartedly.

  Then, Zaak heard the defeated woman sob. The captive went limp in his arms as he and Matsuri sat her in the chair. Zaak watched as his sister bent forward and held her head in her hands. She cried and cried, gasping for breath between sobs. Her dark hair hung to cover her face, but her frame shook from the sobs.

  Zaak could only stand there, amazed at the change.

  Matsuri helped Trok to his feet. “Are you okay?”

  Zaak pulled his stare from his sister and faced Trok to apologize. “Sorry. I should’ve warned you, but I’ve gotten used to her outbursts.”