Persistence of Vision

by Liesel K. Hill

  “So a river used to run through here?”

  “Listen. What do you hear?”

  Maggie listened. There were no people nearby, so when one of them wasn’t talking, there was absolute silence. Then she became conscious of a muted whooshing sound. It was soft, as though coming from deep within the mountain.

  “You mean that wind sound?”

  “Not wind. It’s a river. Our scanners show that it’s not down below in this canyon. It’s behind the rock wall. That means that there are other hollowed-out caverns in this mountain.”

  “Meaning what?”

  Joan shrugged. “Nothing, just an interesting fact. There may be ways to get to them, which means there may be room to expand in the future.”

  “Are we out of space?”

  “Not at all. We’ll need a lot more people for that. I just wanted to bring you here. I thought it might give you some comfort.”

  “I’m glad you did. It’s peaceful.”

  Joan chuckled. “Most people would go with creepy, but you always did like it.”

  “Joan, can I ask you something?”

  “Of course. You and I were good friends before. We talked about everything. I hope we can be that way again.”

  “I’d like that,” Maggie said. “You’ll just have to be patient with me until I feel more comfortable.”

  “No one expects you to open up right away, Maggie. What do you want to ask?”

  “About Marcus.”

  Joan smiled. “I wondered how long it would take you to bring him up.”

  Maggie was glad for the relative darkness. She could feel warmth in her cheeks. “What exactly was my relationship with him?”

  “The two of you were romantically involved.”

  Maggie supposed she had known that. “Yes, but…how did I feel about him?”

  Joan put her lantern on a rock and sat next to it. “I’ve known Marcus for a lot longer than I’ve known you, Maggie—since he was a teenager. He was completely in love with you. I’ve never seen him act toward anyone the way he did toward you.”

  “And what about me?”

  “I think you loved him too.”

  Maggie sighed.

  “You’re not happy about that?”

  Maggie shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not sure how to act around him. Everyone here looks at me like they remember me, but he looks at me like he really knows me. Did he and I…”

  “Were you physical?”

  Maggie nodded.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “Is that so surprising? You were here for a year.”

  “I just hate the idea that he knows all these really personal things about me and I can’t even remember him.”

  Joan was silent for a time. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, Maggie. I’ve never lost memories that way. Do you know what cellular memory is?”

  Maggie nodded. “It’s a theory that says cells, even though they don’t have brains, can remember certain things. Right?”

  “Sort of, but you’re thinking of it backward. It says memories are stored in cells, not just the brain. It was of interest in your time because organ transplant recipients sometimes developed the habits of their donors. It’s a subject I’m very interested in, but it’s not a priority, so it doesn’t have much claim on my time.

  “I believe that, to a certain extent at least, memories are stored in the body. I’m not sure of the details, but I believe they’re there. Even if you can’t remember Marcus with your mind, perhaps you’ll start to remember him in some other way.”

  Maggie sighed. “I wish I could remember. I wish there were some way. Not to question Doc, but are we certain there isn’t?”

  “I’m no physician, but both Doc and Marcus said your memories were gone. There was nothing there to work with. Even if they could make something out of nothing, they couldn’t make memories for you. Each individual must do that for themselves.”

  Maggie nodded. “That’s what Doc said. I just wish…”

  Joan stood and took Maggie’s hand. “Me too, Maggie. Me too.”

  Chapter 11: Trepidation

  Maggie and Joan stayed in what Joan called the Canyon room for more than an hour exchanging stories. Maggie told Joan what happened the day before at her house, and about running from the Arachnimen.

  Joan talked about her life and family. She was married when she was younger than Maggie and stayed with that same man until he died six years earlier. He was killed fighting the collectives, fighting to keep Joan and Lila free. Joan didn’t go into details, and Maggie didn’t press her. She could feel that the subject was an emotional one.

  “Marcus and Doc said everyone on the team ought to give me their point of view of what happened before, on the ships.”

  Joan nodded. “It’s a good idea, but we’ve been down here for a while. Why don’t I tell you as we walk back?”

  Maggie nodded. Using the lantern, Joan lit their way out of the dank passage. Once they reached the lighted pathway again, she put the lantern back into the box in the wall.

  “Joan, did you use your mind to make that work?”

  “To emit the light? Yes. This is a rock that can channel and emit light waves. The ability to produce light is already there—I just have to pull it out.”

  Maggie shook her head in wonder, and Joan chuckled.

  “You can do this too. You just have to be re-taught. Actually, you’re quite good at this particular ability. It’s one of your talents.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were always good at finding light. Certain materials can emit more or better light than others. You’re drawn to light sources. We always joked that if we were ever thrown into a dark room, we’d want to be with you. If there was light to be found, you’d coax it forth.

  “That particular item”—Joan indicated the lantern she’d replaced—“is quite simple. It’s made of light-conductive material, so I know exactly what to do, where to look for what I need. In an unfamiliar place, it’s much harder for most people.”

  Maggie sighed as they curved their way along the abandoned bedrock corridors. “It’s frustrating that I already knew this and now I have to start from scratch.”

  Joan nodded. “I can imagine. But don’t worry too much. Everyone was amazed at how quickly you caught on last time. You’re smart and good at this. Now that you’ve done it once—have it in cell memory, perhaps—I think you’ll pick it up even faster. You’ll be amazed how much you’ll learn in a short time. Besides—”

  A deafening chime flooded the corridors. It was so jarring that Maggie’s head ached instantly. Her hands flew to her ears. The chime’s bleep was so loud and high pitched that Maggie felt like a bat was screeching down deep in her ear canal.

  Joan put a hand on Maggie’s shoulder, looking apologetic. “Sorry.”

  Maggie didn’t know if she’d said or just mouthed it. The chime drowned out anything verbal.

  The sound continued for thirty seconds before coming to an abrupt stop. Maggie dropped her hands with relief.

  “What was—” She realized she was shouting. “That,” she finished in a more normal tone. She opened and closed her jaw, trying to get her ears to pop.

  “Sorry. I haven’t had time to warn you about the alert system. Come on, we have to hurry. I’ll explain as we go.”

  Joan took off through the compound at a walk brisk enough that Maggie had to jog to keep up with Joan’s longer strides.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t suppose you noticed the number of alert sounds we heard?”

  “I was supposed to count them?”

  “You’ll learn to. This system is in place because Interchron is so big, and we don’t have a particularly great internal communication system. If two people want to talk to each other from across the mountain, there are ways to do it, but this gets everyone’s attention at once.”

  “Why would we need everyone’s attention?”


  “Because something is happening that requires all hands on deck. The first two groups of sounds tell what entrance to go to. There are five main entrances. Each entrance has a specific number assigned to it. There were three tones in what we heard. That tells us we’re going to the middle entrance on the west side. The tones were repeated twice to make sure nobody misses them.

  “The next two groups of sounds tell us the alert level. Depending on the level of alert—one through five—people know whether it’s urgent, whether to bring weapons, and whether to bring their children to help.”

  “Why would they bring their kids?”

  “It’s not always an emergency. Sometimes it’s something simple like getting a large shipment of supplies and everyone has to help unload so there is less chance of being seen. It’s not dangerous, just time sensitive. The collectives don’t know where we are. It’s crucial that the Arachnimen not see any of our entrances.”

  Maggie nodded. “I take it the tones told you that this is an emergency?”

  “Yes. The highest alert level. I don’t want to give you a weapon, Maggie. You won’t know how to use it. When we get there, just help where you can.”

  Maggie nodded, but her stomach was suddenly carsick. She could feel that they were walking into a dangerous situation.

  She followed Joan through complicated twists and turns until the hallway they were in finally opened into a wide chamber. The far wall was gone, like an enormous garage door. The only things in the cargo bay-like space were people.

  Maggie recognized many of those who came to help as people she’d met earlier. More were pouring in by the dozens. A few asked how they could help, but most just went to work. Either they already knew what to do, or they summed up the situation, found something to do, and dove in.

  “Karl, what’s happening?” Joan crossed to the center of the room where Karl stood amidst a swirl of activity.

  Maggie stayed close to her.

  “Individuals. The reconnaissance team is bringing a group in, but they’ve got Trepids on their tale.”

  Joan spun to face Maggie as Karl turned his attention to someone on the other side of the room. “The reconnaissance team is bringing in a group of outsiders, but they’re running from what we call Trepids.”

  “What are they?”

  “They’re Arachnimen but worse than the ones you saw. These are trained to hunt down and torture enemies. Doc told you that the individuals are being murdered? These men are committing the murders. They have a reputation for terror, torture, even rape.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “We’re here to welcome the group in. Most of them have been on the run for a long time. They will be untrusting of large groups and confined spaces, such as these.” She motioned to the mountain that surrounded them. “We women have to be the nurturers here.”

  “Nurturers?”

  “These people are frightened, desperate, and flighty. They’ve probably suffered at the hands of the Arachnimen before, so they’ll be afraid of men. We have to calm them, tell them they’re safe, get them to trust us.”

  Maggie nodded. “So we go out and bring them in?”

  “Absolutely not. We stay within the shelter of the mountain at all times. It’s protected by the minds of hundreds of people. The reconnaissance team will bring them in. They’re being chased, so getting them in won’t be hard. But once inside, many of them will rethink their decision and try to get away from us. We have to make them understand that they’re not in danger. Staying is the safest choice. If the Trepids catch them, it’ll be horrible.”

  “Okay. I understand.”

  Maggie looked around and could see what Joan had described taking shape. Many of the people who responded to the alert were carrying blankets, water bottles, and dried food supplies. A dozen people had lined up around the opening to the cave. They had what might have been weapons in their hands, though Maggie couldn’t tell. Karl was directing things.

  “They’re coming!”

  The shout came from a man Maggie didn’t know who stood near the mouth of the cave. Everyone turned toward the opening.

  Despite the fact that there were thirty or forty people gathered, the opening was large enough that Maggie had no trouble seeing what was happening.

  The day was gray and overcast, yet the daylight was bright compared to the artificial light of the caves. A flat, grassy area lay just outside the bay. It dipped out of sight a hundred yards away, and Maggie was sure the mountain dropped away just beyond it.

  A ragtag group came into view. Two-dozen people of all ages and both genders were running toward the cave. Most were adults, but there was a handful of young people and four or five children. Their progress was agonizingly slow. Many of them had limps or other injuries, and Maggie wondered how long they’d been fleeing.

  It was easy to pick out the reconnaissance team from among them. Maggie didn’t know how many people constituted such a team, but four people—three men and one woman—were dressed similarly to those who lived in the caves. They were cleaner, moved with more ease, and had an obvious focus on the cave’s opening.

  As they covered the final stretch of land before reaching the cave, the group became strung out. The faster, more able ones reached the cave quickly, while the less agile ones lagged behind. Each person had to make it to the cave themselves, but once inside, they received a barrage of help. The cave dwellers picked them up, escorted them to an out-of-the-way spot, and offered blankets, water, and other comforts.

  Then Maggie saw the Trepids. She immediately understood the name. They looked like Arachnimen but were larger, more formidable. Their faces were darker, but from this distance she couldn’t tell why. Perhaps they were wearing dark paint.

  The reconnaissance team was trying to fight back the Trepids and hurry along those members of the refugee group who were falling behind. It was agony to watch from the cave. Maggie had an overwhelming urge to run out and help them, but no one else was moving, and Joan had warned her not to go.

  When only a few individuals remained outside the cave, the reconnaissance team left them altogether and turned their attention to warding off the Trepids.

  One woman was close to the cave and hauling three children along. She had an infant in one arm and two older children—probably each four or five years old—in the other. Just before she reached the cave, she stopped. There was so much going on that no one noticed her.

  Except Maggie. The woman and her children were within an arm’s reach of safety, and yet she was standing in place, turning in circles and yelling something. The other stragglers passed the woman and entered the cave. The woman and her three children were the only ones other than the reconnaissance team left outside.

  Helpers from the cave called and motioned for her to come in. More Trepids flooded over the rise and crashed down on the reconnaissance team with renewed vigor, hacking and whaling. The fight was becoming more violent, and those in the cave were frantically trying to get the woman’s attention.

  Finally Karl stepped outside the cave—only one enormous step for him—and grabbed the woman by the arm, hauling her and the three children inside.

  The woman became hysterical, screaming, fighting, hitting those that were trying to keep her in place.

  Maggie hurried over to her and put a hand on Karl’s arm. “Please, let me try,” she said.

  Karl stepped away from the hysterical woman.

  Maggie took the woman by the shoulders and turned her firmly so she was looking directly into Maggie’s face. “Ma’am, you are safe here. Please, let us help you.”

  “Not me,” the woman wailed, “my baby. He’s two! He hides when he’s scared. He’s still out there somewhere. I’m not sure how long ago he left my side! Please don’t let those monsters get him!”

  Maggie looked up at Karl, who gulped. No one had stopped to wonder what the woman was searching for. Maggie ran to the edge of the cave, eyes sweeping the mountainside for signs of the lost child.

&
nbsp; The reconnaissance team made it into the cave, sweeping past Maggie and those guarding the opening. Six Trepids lay in her line of vision, cut down by the reconnaissance team. Dozens more were running toward her. Maggie didn’t know how they were going to close up the side of the mountain, but the Trepids were fifty yards away and closing fast.

  Then she saw it—a flash of color in her peripheral vision. She turned her head. It was the top of a tiny head peeping up from behind thick underbrush. It came partially into view then swiveled back and forth for several seconds before the commotion of the Trepids startled it back into hiding again. It was the woman’s son. He must have gotten afraid and hidden in the bushes, but now he couldn’t see his mother.

  “We can’t go back out again,” Karl was saying. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Truly, I am. But we don’t know where your son is. He might have strayed from you a mile back. We have to close up the mountain. If you join us, you may have the opportunity to save your son. But we simply can’t go out looking for him with dozens of Trepids around.”

  Maggie wanted to tell Karl that the boy was there, not twenty yards from the opening, but the Trepids were closing too quickly. The boy was half the distance between them and the cave, and they weren’t slowing down. Explanations would take precious seconds they didn’t have.

  Suddenly, one of the Trepids—a giant of a man with swinging jowls and a crooked nose—broke off from the main group and made a beeline for the bush. He’d spotted the child.

  Maggie didn’t think, she just reacted. She lunged into the clearing, vaguely registering voices calling her name from behind.

  Her feet barely touched the ground as she zipped across the field and skidded into the knee-high bush. From the other side two frightened, tear-filled eyes peered up at her.

  She knew the child would probably be afraid of her, but she didn’t have time to consider it. Bending at the waist, she hefted the little boy up, over the shrub, and into her arms then spun on her toe to run back to the shelter of the mountain.

  It wasn’t that simple. In the time it had taken her to reach the boy, the Trepids had closed their distance to the bush. They were almost on top of her.