by Grace Hudson
“I said hold still,” Pinnacle Officer Cerberus repeated, placing a small dagger in the hands of the Internee. Her eyes were questioning, her delicate arms shaking as they gripped the dagger, unsure of what to do next.
“Now, you may feel a little sting.”
Pinnacle Officer Cerberus checked the connections between the sensors and the Epsilon Internee. He fumbled for a small black box, gripping the lever adorning the top. He studied the Internee’s face as he pulled the lever and left it engaged.
The Internee jerked violently, shaking her head to the side and groaning. When she raised her eyes to Pinnacle Officer Cerberus, they were no longer afraid. A cold light gleamed from within, a wry smirk crossing her features.
“How does it feel?”
“I feel… strong. Hungry.” She panted, strands of hair sticking to her forehead. “Tell me what to do! I wish to… I wish to fight! To be venerated! Instruct me and I will do as you say.”
Pinnacle Officer Cerberus nodded, scrawling a list to record the results.
Frequency: 450 MHz
Adrenaline: 85% increase
Aggressiveness: 89% increase
Suggestibility: marked increase
“This is a test. Do you know how to do a test?”
The Internee clenched her fists, pulling the restraints to one side. “Know tests. Do tests all the time. Go! Test me!”
She snarled, tearing at the restraints.
“Say the requital.”
The Internee grunted in annoyance. Pinnacle Officer Cerberus unclipped the sensors from the Internee’s head.
“We are gathered here to send our gratitude to Pinnacle Officer…” she narrowed her eyes and smiled, baring her teeth. “…Cerberus and FERTS, for our daily provision and protection from those who would seek to strike against our Vassals, our Fighters and our Internees.”
“Good. Now, I will give you a challenge. Some transgressors perhaps… yes… perhaps some rogues have breached the ward zone perimeter. They have come to take you away from the provision and protection of FERTS. What do you do?”
The Internee grunted once more, attempting to kick her leg from the restraints.
“I would take this dagger… a small thing, easily concealed, from the Epsilon weapons room. I would wait until they led me away, then when their back was turned, I would expire them. One by one. And I would smile and laugh because they were foolish enough to dare to take us from the safety of FERTS.”
“And what would you do, say, if one of these rogues made an attempt, a move to expire the Pinnacle Officer himself?”
The Internee growled, eyes flashing. “I would expire them.” She spoke in a low voice, rough at the edges. “I must protect the Pinnacle Officer. I must protect you.”
“You know I can’t just believe you, not without some kind of proof of your gratitude.”
The Internee shifted once more, kicking her legs at the firmly secured restraints.
“I have another test for you. Are you ready?”
“Ready! Yes ready. Go. Test me. Now!”
Pinnacle Officer Cerberus removed the restraints, his hands deftly loosening the leather straps, flicking open the buckles. The Internee leapt from her chair, crouched in Fighter pose, eyes darting around the room.
Pinnacle Officer Cerberus lifted a double pointed spear from the corner of the room, turning to face the fighting creature. It snarled, baring jagged, sharpened teeth. Pinnacle Officer Cerberus flicked the restraint at the end of the chain with the double pointed spear, stepping back as the chain fell away.
The creature launched itself from its spot on the ground, charging towards Pinnacle Officer Cerberus with its jaws opened in a snarling smile.
Pinnacle Officer Cerberus raised the double pointed spear as the creature hurled towards him.
The Internee sprang from her position, sliding under the creature, dragging the knife through its soft underbelly, entrails gushing down over her undershirt. She secured the creature under her arm, deftly slitting its throat and removing the head, tossing it in a corner.
Pinnacle Officer Cerberus set aside the double pointed spear to continue his notes.
The Internee sat in the middle of the room clutching the fighting creature in her lap, face bathed in blood, white teeth flashing in a satisfied, beaming smile. The whites of her eyes peered out from the dark stain of the creature’s blood as she petted the creature’s hide.
“Good.” Pinnacle Officer Cerberus grinned, barely looking up from his notes as he scrawled.
On conclusion of test, send test subject to Zeta Circuit, effective immediately.
“Good.” He switched off the machine from its 450 MHz position. The Internee slumped, her head lolling to the side.
The Internee blinked, looking up, a confused expression on her face. She looked down at her hands at the blood, the headless fighting creature in her lap. “What…” Her eyes blinked, searching the face of Pinnacle Officer Cerberus for answers that never came. Tears began to fall, washing the blood from her cheeks in streaks. “What have I done?” she whispered, smearing her thighs as she attempted to remove the creature’s blood from her hands.
“What have I done?”
– 24 –
Smoke from the nearby cabins drifted through the air of the camp, along with the lingering scent of cooked potatoes and corn. A pair of sheep bleated in the paddock behind the weapons store. The air was crisp tonight, tinged with the faint scent of rain.
Jotha rubbed his arms, watching his breath turn to fog in the night air. The bone whistle bounced against his chest as he walked from one end of the platform to the other. The moon was a sliver, limiting visibility. He shrugged his shoulders, pacing back and forth in the wooden lookout tower. He rubbed his hands together, wishing for the comfort and warmth of his own bed.
Lookout duty is not to be taken lightly, he thought to himself. You know this.
Rafaella had been on watch the night before, Petra and then Caltha the night before that. It was merely his turn, despite the fact that he had chanced on the coldest night this week. Still, another night of discomfort and he would be back in the warmth of his cabin. He kept himself occupied by imagining the well-stoked fire in his cabin, warmth radiating against the wooden walls, a warming mug of tea in his hands. Just one night, he thought to himself. One more night and I will be comfortable once more. He thought of Liam and Petra, asleep in their beds, blankets pulled up to their chins.
He blew out a breath, watching the cloud of moisture dissipate in front of his face. The tip of his nose was cold to the touch.
Stop your complaining, he thought to himself. You’ve done this before and you will do it again. It’s not as bad as that night it snowed and half the tower roof collapsed on your shoulder. This is nothing. You’re being ridiculous.
But something was different tonight, he thought. It was not a real sense, nothing tangible, yet it was there. A feeling, a hunch that something was different this time, that something was not right. He listened for any unusual sounds but heard nothing out of the ordinary.
He kept his mind occupied, recalling the first time Rafaella taught him to differentiate between the various sounds and how to isolate the important ones from the usual background noise. He had thought at first that the camp would be a quiet place to sleep as it was a secluded, isolated location with few disturbances. It was only when he began to train his ears to recognize the subtle scurrying of animal activity, the random snapping of branches and the sounds of the wind and rain that he understood the complexity of his task. It was important to listen for all the sounds, including those that were pertinent to the usual activity of the camp, and those that differed from the usual parameters of activity.
Rafaella had taught him to keep his ears and mind open when it came to the sounds and scents of the camp. He scanned the entrance, detecting no movement, as usual. Still, it didn’t help to ignore the obvious. He reminded himself to be methodical in his observations. It was true that the camp was prot
ected in part by isolation. It was a comfortable distance away, far from any of the townships. The cliffs provided a natural barrier against intruders, of which there were few, if any. He could recall only two attacks on the camp in total, neither of which had ended well.
He shook his head, willing himself to stop dwelling on the times that had been difficult for them. Life at the camp was good, and as the town liaison, he had the added benefit of procuring supplies for the rest of the camp by posing as a Resident Citizen. His disguise was so well practised that sometimes he found it difficult to remember that he was not a Resident Citizen on a journey for supplies but an intruder, and that the dangers of his each of his journeys were real and would never diminish. The task had fallen to him as Kap and Vern were known by sight to some of the older inhabitants of the townships. They could not risk being recognized in order to procure a few sacks of supplies for the general running of the camp. Liam was far too young to be making the journey on his own and an unaccompanied Sire would draw unwanted attention. As for Rafaella, Caltha, Petra, Bonni and Ginny… well that particular possibility was out of the question. It seemed that Jotha was the only logical choice and he had agreed, reluctantly to put himself at risk. He contented himself with forming connections with the blacksmiths, the wool merchants and those who grew their own crops for trade.
Jotha thought of their latest batch of cattail spirits, grimacing at the memory of the unmistakable taste. Surely there had to be a way to make the spirits more palatable, or at least to stop it stripping the lining of his throat each time he took a sip. He had suggested the idea to Caltha who put forward the idea of strawberries to mask the taste. The idea had some merit, he thought. Anything to get rid of the bitterness of the…
A foreign scent reached his nostrils.
He was used to the familiar smell of the wood fires in the cabins, most of which would have been coals by now. This scent was different. A wilder, almost minty fragrance. He also noted that it was coming from the wrong direction. Jotha scanned the back of the camp, attempting to make out the shapes of the few unoccupied cabins that stood shrouded in darkness.
Never leave your post, he thought to himself. He remembered the words from when Rafaella had first spoken them on his initial attempt at watch duty. But this, this time it was different. The urge to investigate was strong and there was no time to rouse the others. He felt the need to go right now to find the origin of the strange disturbance. He descended the ladder, his feet already in motion as he reached the base of the wooden tower. The scent was coming from the back of the camp, near the overhanging cliffs.
Something did not feel right. The feeling was strong and he knew this feeling well. It was the same feeling he had when an Officer had looked at him once in the township of Evergreen, that hard, calculating gaze boring into him. It was the feeling he had when the mercenaries had ridden from parts unknown. The day they had taken Renn. He would never forget, but Caltha… he was certain there was a part of her that would never recover. Adira was too young to understand that her father was gone, but there would be a part of her that would always remember the feeling of loss. These feelings flowed through him as he picked up speed, heading towards the back of the camp.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong and he had to find out what it was before he lost the scent. There was an urgency, a desperate push towards his goal. He thought of his post, left unattended in his haste. Rafaella would be furious with him but he had to know. This was important.
He passed the weapons store and the empty cabins, their windows darkened for lack of a fire. He stumbled, almost losing his footing in the dim light of the slivered moon. He scrambled, gripping a branch as he weaved his way through the underbrush to come to the foliage at the base of the cliffs. Smoke began to drift up to his right. He turned, making his way across fallen rocks and pebbles to find the source of the disturbance.
A fire had started up in the leaves of a small shadbush, its white flowers wilting and floating to the ground in droplets of flame. The scent was stronger here, the smell reminding him of burnt berries and scorched fruit. He stamped on the bush, extinguishing the small pockets of flame springing up from the ground.
Something crunched beneath his feet. He lifted his foot to find the broken remains of a large lump of coal. No, not coal, he corrected himself. It was an ember.
Jotha ran, his bird-call whistle clamped between his lips. The sound squeaked out, its power thinned by his breathlessness.
He followed the path to the main cabin to find Rafaella and Caltha standing in the doorway, their silhouettes standing out against the warm light within.
“Come inside.” Rafaella motioned through the open door.
Jotha rushed through the opening, pausing to rest beside the fire, his hands resting on his knees as he panted. He crouched, warming his hands by the fire as he gasped for another breath.
“An ember… someone lit a fire at the back of the camp. Caught a shadbush, whole thing nearly went up.”
“Is it out?” asked Rafaella, fastening her tunic and sheathing her saber. Caltha loaded a bolt into her crossbow, taking extra care not to pull it back to the armed position. She rested it on the table, pointing it to the wall just to be sure. She pulled a warmer woolen tunic over herself, wrapping a belt around her waist.
Jotha looked up at Rafaella. “I got it, the ember’s out. Something’s not right tonight, Raf. We have to go and check it to make sure. These embers can start up again. It was only small, just one ember, but there may be more.”
Rafaella and Caltha shared a look.
Rafaella bent down, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Jotha, I want you to get the others assembled here. No more whistles, no more sounds of any kind if you can help it. Get someone else up on watch, maybe Kap or Vern. I want you here when I talk to the others.”
“What do you think it is?” asked Jotha.
“I think we’ve got company,” said Rafaella.
The small group assembled at the main cabin, huddled around a wooden table. The fire smoked away in the hearth, its flames extinguished. Kap had been placed on watch duty, much to his annoyance at being left out of the action. Rafaella had promised to fill him in later, before morning light.
“First off, Lina, I want you to get all the Zeta Internees, Adira and the ones who can’t fight, that includes you, 292.” Rafaella looked over at 292, the Vassal Jotha had found near the township of Evergreen on one of his supply runs.
292 scowled at her, folding her arms. “Again I do not get to fight. Why?”
“You’re not ready, 292. You'll fight when you're ready and not before then. That’s final.”
“I have trained…”
“Yes, you have trained, but this isn't the same thing. You will watch, and observe as much as you can. Think of it as a test. You won't be doing this without first understanding how it works.”
“Fine,” 292 said. “I will watch. Observe.”
“Good. Now, as I was saying, Lina, you get all of them secured in your cabin and do not, I repeat, do not open that door unless I say so. Got it?”
“Got it,” said Lina. Her white hair was illuminated by the fire, her forehead creased in concern. “Are we to arm ourselves? In case…”
“Yes. Always. But nobody gets in, nobody comes out. That is non-negotiable,” said Rafaella, spreading a crudely-drawn map of the camp on the table and weighing down the edges with rocks.
“This is different to the last time,” said Rafaella. She looked over at Liam, her eyes softening as he gave her a thin smile. “We have to remember this, all of us.”
She looked up from the map, scanning the faces of those who had fought beside her in the past. The faces of those who would do so again without hesitation.
She clenched her fist, eyes returning to the map. “Look, it’s not just one of us at risk if this goes wrong. If we screw this up, it’s Adira, Lina, 292 and Zeta Circuit as well.”
Caltha sucked in a breath at the mention of Adira. Rafa
ella looked up, meeting her eyes. She tried to convey something, a reassurance that this was not as bad as it sounded. The look on Caltha’s face said otherwise. Caltha squeezed her eyes shut. She opened her eyes again, giving a brief nod in Rafaella’s direction and turning her attention back to the map.
“We split into two groups. I’ll be leading the first group, Jotha, you lead the second.” Rafaella pointed to the map, tapping at the positions with her finger.
“No,” said Caltha.
“What do you mean, no?” asked Rafaella.
“I will lead the second group.”
“No, Cal,” said Rafaella. “You know we’re better as a team. It’s the way we’ve always done things.”
“Well, not this time. It’s Adira this time. I have to be out there. If something happened…”
Rafaella said nothing, placing a hand on Caltha’s shoulder. The memory of Adira’s father hung in the silence that followed. The reminders of Renn had never left the camp and it was accepted that this was a topic not to be discussed. It was not a new memory, but it would never be forgotten. Rafaella nodded in understanding. If Adira was taken, if her last remaining parent failed to keep her safe, Caltha would never forgive herself. As much as she disagreed, she understood Caltha’s reasoning.
“Fine,” she said, clenching her jaw. “Okay, that’s settled then. Caltha, you lead the second group.” Rafaella looked back to the map. “What do we know so far?”
“Not much,” said Jotha. “There’s someone out there but I can’t be sure how many. Most likely above the cliffs, I’m guessing not too far from the edge.”
Rafaella glanced at the coals smoking in the hearth, a line forming between her brows.
“All of this seems wrong,” said Jotha. “I have a strange feeling about it. Nobody builds a fire on the edge of a cliff, it just wouldn’t make sense. So what were they doing up there?” The only response was silence.