Becoming

by Chris Ord

  Gaia laughed and shook her head.

  ‘This just gets better and better! No, I won’t do it Aran. It’s too big a risk. There are too many holes in it. You’re asking me to put everything on the line and all I can see is danger. I know things are bad in this place, but I’d rather wait and get through the becoming, then take my chances in the haven. Thanks for the offer, but count me out.’

  Aran put his head down, and picked a small stone from the dirt, rolling it between his fingers.

  ‘I’m disappointed, but I understand. If you change your mind let me know. There’s still a place open for you. I want to go soon, but we’ve got a couple of weeks yet.’

  Aran stared at her, the light from the candle giving his expression a sinister edge.

  ‘And I can rely on you to keep quiet about this?’

  Their eyes locked as Gaia returned the stare.

  ‘Of course. However crazy this is, and however pissed off I am that you’ve dragged me into it, I’m no snitch. You can trust me, but the same goes for you too though. I know nothing, right?’

  ‘No problem.’

  There was a sound outside, something above them. The branches shook, but only for a moment. They both froze, their breath slowing to nothing. The slightest noise seemed to echo around them. All they heard were the incidental sounds of the woods, the gentle purring of nocturnal living. The branches shook again. This time it was more vigorous, followed by a flapping sound and a loud, rapid clicking. Gaia looked at Aran, alarm on their faces. He gestured and threw her a quizzical look. She frowned and mouthed to him:

  ‘Night birds.’

  Aran shook his head, but Gaia nodded. She was sure, and had heard this before. The candle was still lit, so she licked her fingertips and snuffed it out, plunging them into pitch black. Aran grabbed her arm. Gaia eased her hand forward feeling his knee, and leant towards him, her head seeking to find his. She wanted to whisper to him. Her head searched the darkness, trying to sense where his face was, to feel the warmth of his body, and the faintest indication he was near. She felt the heat of his panting breathe. His face was close. Angling her lips reaching for his ear, desperate to release her whisper, she inched towards him. Her lips glanced his skin, the faintest brush of his smooth and delicate cheek. She moved them along the line of his face towards his ear. All the while Aran was still, frozen like stone. Her lips stroked his ear, like fingertips, and Gaia whispered.

  ‘It’s the night birds. I know it is. We need to get out of here now.’

  Gaia felt his head move in a nod, Aran took her arm and together they stood. She moved behind him, her finger hooked through one of his belt holes. He edged forward step by step, tiptoeing his way towards the entrance, as she shuffled behind, feeling her way in the pitch black, clinging to him. They could see nothing, but he knew the layout well enough to feel their escape. Together they eased through the dirt, inching forward. Her senses had awoken and come alive, her hearing picking up every rustle, the buzz of the silent air, and the occasional flurry of the clicks and flapping from above. The violent shaking had stopped, but they knew they were still there. Her feet reached forward, stroking the darkness and the ground below. Aran stopped at the entrance, turned and took Gaia by the arm. His fingertips touched her face and moved to her chin. Gaia sensed his lips as they moved to her ear.

  ‘What now?’

  Gaia could only just make out his words. Aran did not speak, rather let them drift from his breath. She put her head to his, and traced her lips across his face again. For a moment their lips brushed, not a kiss, just the softest connection. She whispered again, only the delicate waves of her breath carrying the words.

  ‘Open the door and we run for it. If we split up I’ll meet you at the edge of the woods.’

  Gaia felt Aran’s hand grip her arm, as his other hand reached out and took the branches of the door. He squeezed harder, and moved the branches back, the glow from the light of the crescent moon appeared as they parted. They both stepped out, as Aran eased the branches back. In an instant they darted into the woods. Gaia was quick, but she let him lead, tucking in behind, as he weaved his way, this way and that. At first they heard nothing but the crack of the branches underfoot and their own panting. Then they heard them overhead, swooping sounds as the birds dived towards them. The noise of the clicking growing louder and softer. Soon Aran and Gaia reached the edge of the woods and stopped. Aran lent on a tree to gather his breath as Gaia peered out into the opening, looking for any signs of movement, listening for any more noises. There was nothing. They were safe for now, waiting while their breath slowed. Gaia spoke, her voice a soft whisper.

  ‘Looks like they’ve gone, but we need to get back to our dorms quickly. What happened tonight stays between us.’

  Aran stood up straight, and reached out and held Gaia by the arm. He looked at her, his face pleading. Her eyes locked onto his lips, with the thought of them touching only moments ago. She watched as they moved, carving out his words.

  ‘Think about what I said Gaia. This is the best chance you’ll get to escape. Trust me!’

  With that Aran headed out into the opening and across the field towards his dorm on the far side of the encampment. Gaia watched as his shadowy outline moved away, lit by the moon, but drifting out of view. She steadied herself before setting off. There was a lot to think about, but now was not the time. Moving across the field to the dorm, Gaia paused outside the entrance, listening for any trace of sound or movement inside. There was nothing, so she tried the handle and pulled the door. It did not move. Gaia tried again, arching the handle further to make sure it was not caught, but still it failed to budge. She tugged again, a little harder, but fearful the noise might alert Hakan.

  Gaia’s thoughts drifted back to leaving earlier, retracing the steps in her mind. She was sure the door was not locked, but doubts set in. A flash of panic ran through her as she wrestled with the images in her head. Fumbling for the key in her pocket, Gaia placed it in the lock, turned it and felt the click. As the handle moved the door eased open. She crept through the narrowest of openings and closed it. Tiptoeing through the passage towards the main sleeping area there was a voice, echoing in the passage.

  ‘Good evening thirty seven.’

  Gaia jumped and turned. Hakan was there. Standing in the shadows at the far side of the passage by the bedroom door. His body was smothered in darkness, but the face was clear as he lent forward into the light, eyes dark and intense.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’

  Gaia’s heart was like a hammer smashing at her chest. She could not breath, her mind was whirling with panic, her mouth felt dry and rancid. Survival mode kicked in. Despite the chaotic churning of her body and mind, the brain took control forcing out some words.

  ‘Sorry leader, I felt ill and needed some air. I didn’t want to disturb anyone. I didn’t go far. Just for a short walk.’

  There was a long pause. The knife was in. Hakan wanted to twist it.

  ‘Mmmmmm, ill. You do seem a little anxious, let’s say off colour. How did you manage to get outside given that the door was locked, of course?’

  Gaia’s heart was in her mouth.

  ‘There was a key in the door. This one. I assumed it was yours.’

  Gaia reached in her pocket and held out the key. Hakan stepped out of the shadows and towards her. He was wearing pyjama bottoms, but no shirt. She could see his naked torso, covered in thick black hair. He shuffled across the hall, bare-footed, silent, stopping just in front. Hakan waited, looked down at the key in her hand. He took it and lifted it close to his face twirling it in his fingers, studying it, staring at Gaia, leaning in close.

  ‘So it is.’

  Hakan winked, and eased his head back. There was a long pause and silence. Gaia could smell his stale breath. A grin crept across his face, as his pale blue eyes pierced hers. He stood silent, staring, waiting for her to speak or move.

  ‘Now get back to your dorm and we’ll keep this our little secret, sh
all we? But you owe me, and I’ll expect something as a token of your gratitude for my silence and discretion. Just let me have a think about it. Now off you go.’

  ‘Thank you leader.’

  Gaia turned and made her way to the door of the dorm. She grabbed the handle, and was just about to open it when Hakan spoke again in a low, sinister snarl.

  ‘Good night Gaia. Remember, this is our little secret.’

  Gaia opened the door and rushed over to her bed, undressed and climbed into bed staring at the familiar patterns of the bunk above. Her head was awash with the events of the night, her veins pumping adrenalin and fear through every muscle and sinew. Fists were clenched in anger and frustration. She was vulnerable now, and knew it was only a matter of time. Hakan had something over her, the power to manipulate her for his own ends, and Gaia knew what that meant. There was the meeting with Kali in the morning and whatever that would bring. There was a lot to consider, and she needed to sleep, but it was elusive that night. Gaia drifted into a state of semi-consciousness, neither asleep nor awake. Nightmares plagued her, as all her worst fears played out.

  Morning came, and the light of the sun crept through the cracks in the curtains. The sharp, piercing shafts penetrated the windows, and pinned the wooden floors. Gaia gazed at them, and tried to count them, feeling their warmth as they grew in number and intensity. She was trying to forget the night before, but there was no avoiding the truth. Gaia had mulled the thoughts, possibilities and implications over and over, tossing and turning them all night. She had wrestled and weighed them a thousand times, now knowing what had to be done.

  4

  Gaia sat at the end of a long table in the large hall of the refectory. The community were having a breakfast of porridge and toast with tea and/or coffee. This was the offering most mornings, though occasionally they would have eggs in various forms. Bacon was a rare treat, and marked a special occasion. Today was any other day, at least for the community.

  The hall was full and bustling with activity. It was always this way with over four hundred people to get through in two sittings. Gaia was in the first sitting, the early birds without the worms. They had a brief window to arrive and finish. Anyone who was outside their slot would do without, and go hungry till lunch.

  Gaia looked at her bowl, and played with her porridge. Her appetite had abandoned her. Her head was heavy with the haze of lost sleep. There was the meeting with Kali after breakfast. Her stomach spat bile and burned at the thought of their impending discussion. Aran sat a couple of tables away, his back to her. Gaia had noticed him enter, collect his food and make his way to the table. Her heart had jumped when he entered. Part of her had hoped that he would come and sit next to her, or at least near. She was hoping they might be able to share some words between casual morning chat. Yet the lucid part of her brain, the piece not swimming in the stupour of her mental hangover knew it was foolish. Instead Aran took his seat without acknowledgment, or eye contact, making a point of staring at the floor in front, a fixed gaze unbroken. He seemed determined to avoid any connection with Gaia, any recognition, wary of arousing any suspicion.

  Part of Gaia felt bitter. The situation Aran had put her in, the choice he had asked her to make. This made things impossible for them. If Gaia agreed to go she would have the opportunity to escape, but the chances of success were slim. She forced the porridge down, followed by the cold, soggy toast and stewed tea. Eating was monitored, waste was not tolerated. At worst it would alert them to unusual behaviour, a change in the regular pattern. This might lead to unwanted attention and a discussion with the leaders to find the issue. This was something Gaia wanted to avoid at all costs. Kali gave her enough attention without adding further reasons, and now there was Hakan to think of. He was also in the hall, sitting at the top table with the leaders. He was laughing and joking with a couple of the others. Gaia had looked across a couple of times. On one occasion he caught her eye, grinning and looking away, returning to his breakfast banter unphased by any of the events of the night. Hakan was aware he had another victim in his snare, lined up, waiting. This victim was different. He had something on her, a bargaining chip, more power than usual. This victim was vulnerable and weak. He was not ready for her yet. He would keep her waiting, worrying over what might happen, and when. Power was Hakan’s weapon. Power and its abuse. It was the basis of all human interactions. He betrayed the power entrusted him, a betrayal of his role and responsibilities, of all that he stood for, and was meant to be. Hakan had power over those he was supposed to protect, but it was never absolute. Sometimes victims were clever enough to disarm the power. Sometimes the victims were not prepared to sit back and allow it. Sometimes they would act. In this case the potential victim had other ideas. Gaia would not be taken at any cost.

  Gaia moved to the table where the dishes were left. As she approached Aran moved towards the table. She tried to remain calm and act as normal. One by one, she placed each item in the designated bowls. Aran approached and stood near, not speaking, but placing a napkin by her hand on the table. He put his things away, flicked her hand, and moved towards the door. Gaia reached down and picked up the napkin, slipping it into her pocket, while looking around at the table of leaders. They were all engrossed in one of Hakan’s tales, his stories of fantasy, told in such a way to make him believable. Hakan the raconteur, the entertainer, weaving webs, the cover for his evil. No-one was looking. No-one had spotted Aran’s subtle act. The rest of the community were all either deep in conversation or staring at the walls, wrestling with the last traces of tiredness. They sat, ate, drifted. They were the indifferent, and the lost.

  Gaia left the refectory and returned to the dorm. It was a good moment to look at the napkin. Some of her roommates were in the dorm, busy getting ready. The morning gathering was soon, and the allocation of tasks for the day. Gaia would attend, but meet Kali before embarking on her task. She needed to see what was on the napkin first. Read it, then dispose of it. The longer she had it, the more likely it would be found. At least that was the rationale to cloak her curiosity.

  The rain rattled as it peppered the roof, a dreary backdrop to the chatter of the girls. After a bright, sunny start the clouds had swept in bringing a cloak of grey, wet, misery. The outdoor tasks would be all the tougher for most, but not Gaia. She did not mind the rain. It was comforting and reassuring. The rain was a screen, a bubble wrapped around her, protecting. Warm rain made her feel comforted, cold, biting rain alive, with its sharp, stinging prods of the skin. Often she would focus her mind on each of the drops as they stung her face. Her cold, tingling face, so cold that every ounce of pain would be amplified. Pain was there to be controlled, to be conquered. Gaia would soak the pain, absorb it, but she would not suffer. It was not allowed.

  The sodden walk back to the dorm had done Gaia good. She had cast off the heavy haze of her restless night and was now feeling more alert. She was nervous about meeting Kali, curious too, but her spirits had lifted a little. The napkin had given her a boost. It was contact with Aran, however small. At least he had not abandoned her, and been too disheartened by her concerns. Gaia was keen to inspect the napkin further, to see what secrets it held.

  Gaia sat on the bed, removed her boots and lay on the blanket, turning her back to most of the rest of the girls mingling around the dorm. She reached into her pocket and removed the napkin. In itself it would not arouse any suspicion, but she needed to be careful. She lay the napkin on the blanket by her chest, leaving her hand upon it, hoping to at least partially conceal it. There was the writing, small and faint. Gaia moved the napkin along the blanket closer to the top of her chest, seeking the right position to suit her eyes. Discretion was important. One of the spies might be watching and report any strange behaviour to one of the leaders. You could never be too careful. Trust no-one, and suspect everything. That was the key to survival in the community. It was nestled in the right position, just enough to read without the letters being too blurred. There were six words. All
that was needed.

  We must go soon. Be careful.

  Soon. It was vague, but the implication was clear. Something had changed. Something had alarmed Aran. Giving the note to Gaia was dangerous. It was in a crowded room with the leaders present, and there was always the potential someone would see. They may have been seen. One of the spies may have noticed and could be ready to tell the leaders now. Aran said they had a couple of weeks, but not now. If Gaia was to go the decision had to be made. However, her concerns still remained. There were holes in the plan, aspects that needed a lot more thought. Then there were the others. Who were they? Gaia still had doubts about Aran, in two minds. It paid to be this way about everyone. Adding more people to the mix was worrying. The two week timescale had been a concern, but this change was alarming. For now she would have to put her concerns on hold and prepare for the gathering and her meeting. Thoughts of escape could wait till later. Gaia ripped a piece from the napkin, tore it into tiny bits and ate them. She repeated it until all the writing was gone, placing the remains in her back pocket. In rainy weather it would be easy to dispense with in the mud or drains outside.

  .....................................................................

  The gathering was as always. They sat in the dome in their allotted places and listened to a leader speak. There was a reading and a few minutes of meditation. This was meant to focus the mind, cleanse it of all thoughts, seek a higher, purer mental state. The training required you to expel all thoughts, to let go. Gaia found it impossible that morning. There was too much jostling in her head. She went through the motions, but her mind was filled with thoughts of Aran, Kali, and Hakan, of the escape, the meeting, the threat.

  They were put into teams and allocated their tasks for the day. Three teams were to go on hunting missions to seek and destroy rats. Others were to build walls and barriers at key areas of the encampment. A couple of groups were sent on beach fishing expeditions, with rods and nets rather than boats, casting from the beach beyond the castle. When the tide was right and the weather favourable this could yield plenty of fresh bounty. Other teams were given physical training tasks - running, weights, boxing, hand to hand combat, and the use of light weaponry such as spears, daggers, hammers, and axes. Some of the teams were classroom-based and would continue their training in theoretical knowledge - maths, engineering, and construction. The tasks were varied and allocated across teams on each days. The intention was to give everyone a strong grounding in essential skills to make the step to the next phase. Everyone was monitored and assessed by the leaders. Some were allocated certain types of tasks more than others and it was clear that they were being steered into particular areas. Teams were never the same though. The leaders liked to keep them guessing and mix things up. Gaia was not allocated a team or task that morning. This was on account of her meeting with Kali. Perhaps Kali would allocate this following the meeting, or maybe she had something else in mind.