by Grace Hudson
“What? You know they will not let us leave, 201. How can you be so calm about this?”
“They will not harm you, Reno.” 201 stared up at the ceiling.
“Have you lost your senses? They are mercenaries! They will expire us before the night is over!”
“They are not mercenaries.”
“Rogues, mercenaries! Whatever you will call them, they are the enemy! What is important is that they will expire us and send parts of us back to FERTS!”
“Is that what you fear? Strange that it differs so greatly from my fear. A fear you could not understand, even if you wanted to.”
“I am your trainer!” Reno shouted. “I advise you. I train you. You do not speak to me about my mind and what it can do. Do you understand?”
201 turned her head to face him. “Did you wonder, Reno, why they did not expire 263, 277, Officer Tor and 275? Or you and me for that matter?”
Reno banged his boots on the ground, leaning back against the wall. His breaths were rapid and his face was red. He shuffled his boots in the straw, calming his breaths. He let out a long exhale, staring up at the roof of the cabin.
“That… that is simple,” he said. ”They are waiting to question us. When they have the answers they need, they will expire us.”
“Like you would have eventually done with me?”
Reno did not reply.
201 took a deep breath, listening to the sounds of birds outside the window of their cabin.
“They did not expire us because they did not need to do so. We gave up our weapons and we are no longer a threat to them.” She turned her head in the straw to face Reno. “Had they been mercenaries, or rogues as you called them, we would not be having this conversation. Why are you so convinced they are mercenaries?”
“Because they…”
“Because they what?” 201 narrowed her eyes.
“Everyone knows that mercenaries are the primary threat to FERTS. This is further proof of the need for the strengthening of Vassal protection. It is clear that the Pinnacle Officer has been wise in his decisions.”
201 turned her head back to face the ceiling. Her eyes were getting heavy and sleep seemed a welcome respite from the day’s activities, though it was barely morning. She closed her eyes, her breathing slowing down. “Did you ever wonder, Reno, why we have not seen a real mercenary in all this time? It was such a long journey, and yet… nothing.”
Reno was silent for a time, pondering her words. He watched the morning sun filter through the window, illuminating the straw. He listened to the excited chatter of birds as they flitted about in the trees outside the cabin. The distant hiss of the waterfall soothed his beating heart. He looked over at 201, her form huddled, head resting on the straw as the light fell on her bruised and swollen features.
“201?”
There was no answer, save for the rise and fall of her breath as she drifted to sleep.
– 27 –
Rafaella burst through the door of the cabin, leaving it banging on its hinges. Caltha lay on blankets near the hearth, the fire still unlit. She was covered in a thin layer of sweat, shivering.
“How did this happen?” Rafaella said. She edged past Lina to Caltha’s side, putting a hand to her forehead. “Why is there no fire yet? She’s freezing!”
The sun had risen outside, yet the inside of the cabin was chilled from a night without a fire in the hearth. The room stank of boiled cloves, masking the underlying tang of blood and sweat. Rafaella moved away from Caltha to let Lina through with another cloth soaked in the clove mixture. Rafaella hovered, watching Caltha’s face as she winced from the sting.
“Cal? Can you hear me?” asked Rafaella. “Hey…”
“That’s enough, Raf. I need you to move back,” said Lina, pointing a bloodied cloth in her direction.
“That’s not going to happen,” said Rafaella, eyes never leaving Caltha’s form. “Cal? Just blink or something. Please…”
“Raf…” Caltha opened her eyes, trying to focus.
“Shh, you don’t have to speak.” Rafaella clenched her jaw. “Just... that’s good. Lina’s going to fix you up, you’ll be fine,” said Rafaella.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Caltha closed her eyes and laughed, choking on a cough.
Lina elbowed Rafaella out of the way, continuing to bathe Caltha’s wounds.
“Raf, I won’t ask you again. Get out of here and get me some cloth, some more of the clove mixture from the stove and boil some more hot water.” Lina’s voice was firm.
Rafaella took one more glance at Caltha and left for the kitchen, banging pots against the wood-fired stove.
Caltha coughed, attempting to speak. “She’s…”
“Shh, I know, I know, Cal.” Lina smiled down at her. “But she was right about one thing though, it’s not a good idea for you to speak.” She rolled the material of Caltha’s tunic further up her body, her eyes squinting as she caught sight of the wound. “And a knife, Raf!” she called out.
Rafaella appeared in the doorway, carrying cloth and a bowl of clove mixture. She placed it at Lina’s feet and returned with a knife, watching as Lina sliced the material to reveal the extent of Caltha’s injury.
Rafaella sucked in a breath, the blood draining from her face.
“How is it?” asked Caltha.
“It’s not so bad.” Rafaella grinned, placing a hand on Caltha’s forearm, the smile failing to reach her eyes. “I’ll just go get the water, should be boiled by now.”
Rafaella disappeared through the doorway. Caltha reached up and gripped at the sleeve of Lina’s tunic.
“It’s bad, isn’t it,” said Caltha, lifting her head to look up at Lina.
“Yeah, Cal. It’s not good. But you already knew that. Lie back now.”
Caltha grimaced, shifting to a more comfortable position. “She was fast for someone so big,” she said, blinking to clear her vision. “I didn’t expect that. But I got her, Lina.”
Lina dipped the cloth in the clove mixture, wringing it out. “I’m going to need you to be quiet now. This is going to hurt, but the cloves will numb it a little. Try and stay still, okay?”
Caltha grimaced, nodding her head.
“Raf?” she called out. “Can you get the fire started?” Rafaella reappeared in the doorway, arms loaded with wood.
“Got it, got it already. What are you waiting for?” She stacked wood in the hearth. “Don’t wait for me.”
“It’s so cold in here, Raf,” said Caltha. Rafaella squeezed her eyes shut, breathing out in a rush. She dropped the last log, disappearing back into the kitchen.
“Stay with me, Cal,” said Lina. She soaked her hands in the clove mixture, placing both hands on Caltha’s chest, prising apart the wound. The blood flow was erratic. It leaked out, slowing to almost nothing before leaking again, adding stripes to the forked pattern trailing down her body.
“She missed your heart,” said Lina.
“Are you sure?” said Rafaella, kneeling to start the fire with a kindling stick from the stove.
“I was a doctor, remember? I think I know where the heart is. I’ll be needing the smaller needles. These won’t do.” She turned back to Caltha, who lay motionless, face pale. “You’re lucky it wasn’t something bigger, Cal.”
“Yeah, lucky…” Caltha trailed off, the whites of her eyes peeked out under her half-closed eyelids, making her irises disappear.
“Needles, Raf!”
“There! Next to you!” Rafaella gestured to the spot near Lina’s elbow. “I put them there, beside you on your left, in with the other ones.” Rafaella moved to Lina’s side. “I’ll hold, you sew.”
“Soak your hands first.”
Rafaella showed her hands, still dripping with the clove mixture. “Come on, let’s go!”
Rafaella held the wound steady as Lina stitched, threading the needle on one side, then the other. She held her finger at the base of the thread, looking up to meet Rafaella’s eyes. “Okay. Now.”
; Rafaella poured the clove mixture along the edges of the wound. At the same moment, Lina pulled the thread taut, finishing off the knot at the end.
Caltha hadn’t moved, the white slivers still peeking out from her eyelids.
“She’s lost a lot of blood,” Lina said. “We should let her rest, check on the others.”
“I’m not moving. The others are fine, few cuts and bruises. Nothing to worry about.”
“Raf, you should leave her and…”
“I said I’m not moving! I’ll be here when she wakes up. You check if you want to. Go! Get out of here!”
Lina left the cabin, muttering under her breath.
Rafaella sat in a chair by Caltha’s side, elbows resting on her knees. Rafaella wiped a stray tear with her elbow, the droplet soaking into the fabric. She blew out a breath. Caltha’s face was pale, beads of sweat glistening in the firelight. “Come on, Cal, stay with me.” She lifted a hand to Caltha’s face, smoothing the hair out of her eyes.
– 28 –
201 closed her eyes, listening to the straw rustle beneath her head. Reno shifted his position at the other side of the cabin. She knew that sleep was inevitable. Though she tried to resist the pull, she felt herself slipping once more.
201 dreamed of a field. The field was filled with crops, swaying in the breeze. She looked down at herself, an oversized tunic covering her front. She pulled at the fabric, staring down at her tiny fingers as they fumbled with the material.
I am a little one.
Gerd? Gett, no Gerda. My name is…
Gerda.
201 ran alongside a stream, humming a tune, the sound foreign and senseless to her ears. She followed the stream, watching a leaf, no, her leaf, she corrected herself, as it made its way along rocks, cascading through the channels, following the water as it rushed past her feet. She held her stick, poking the leaf every now and then to push it out when it became stuck in bundles of twigs gathered at the water’s edge. The leaf dislodged from the twigs, drifting on the rushing water, pulling away from her reach.
Dust drifted up from the ground, sparkling in the light before everything became black.
Hoofbeats. The ground shook, jarring 201 and echoing the beat of her heart. The hoofbeats grew stronger as figures on horseback appeared from the blackness, illuminated by a dull blue light that flickered, making her eyes twitch. The lights buzzed, a steady drone filling her senses. The field narrowed, walls of stone solidifying around her as the daylight faded.
The hoofbeats faded as the figures surrounded her. She looked up at the robed silhouettes, craning her neck to try to get a glimpse of their faces.
“Hello, little one,” said a voice.
I know you. I know you.
“How pleasant to see you again, Gerda. Or should I call you 201?” His face was shrouded in a hooded robe, glimpses of his features poking out from the darkness within.
201 began to sweat, drips of perspiration making their way from the back of her neck, trailing down over the gentle bumps of her spine.
“I know you,” she said.
The figure laughed. The sound prickled at 201’s shoulder, a tingle spreading across her back.
I know you.
“Show yourselves. I am not afraid.” 201 took a shaky breath, clenching her tiny fists by her sides.
“Yes, little one. We will do as you say, since you asked so nicely.” The voice chilled her blood but she refused to cry out, her feet remaining in place.
“But you are wrong about being afraid. You will be afraid. Fear is what makes us real.”
The hooded figure raised his hands, lifting the robe from his head. Before the hood could fall to the ground, 201 knew who it was that had spoken.
Do not run.
201 squeezed her eyes shut, willing the figures to disappear. She opened them once more to find the features of Officer Jorg smiling down at her, the face that she had tried so hard to block from her memories, memories that refused to stay hidden.
“I have missed you, 201.” 201 felt her stomach turn, bile rising in her throat.
The other figures removed their robes to reveal Officers Morton and Ryan. They opened their mouths to speak, the sound amplifying as the voices joined together in unison.
“We have missed you, 201,” the voices said. “Come back to us…”
“No!” 201 tried to cover her ears but the voices became stronger, echoing in her ears from within. The three voices joined once more, the sound becoming shrill, jarring her senses.
“Internee Beth 259201. We shall now send our gratitude to Pinnacle Officer Cerberus and FERTS, for our daily provision and protection from those who would seek to strike against our Vassals, our Fighters and our Internees.”
“No!”
201 awoke to the sound of her own breathing, the sun streaming across her face. She shivered, though the beam of light was warm. It reminded her of the sliver of light from her quarters at Epsilon, at Beta, at Omega.
At FERTS.
201 watched the sleeping form of Reno, his breaths almost too soft for her to hear. 201 wondered for a moment if he was breathing at all. His chest began to move, rising a little, then falling again.
201 huddled in the corner of the cabin, nestled in the warm straw that prickled at her back and legs. She could still see the figures from her dream, the hoods falling from their faces, their voices united, joined as one as they spoke those words, the words that made no sense yet made perfect sense after all…
Fear is what makes us real.
The words swirled in her mind, filtering through her consciousness, weaving their way through pathways she did not know and was yet to understand. The words seemed so simple, yet they could not mean what she suspected, surely that was impossible. 201 shook the images from her head, attempting to focus on something, anything other than the faces of Officer Jorg, Morton and Ryan. The three of them, joined together, again the thread wove through her mind and again she grappled with the complexity of the notion.
The image, the symbol, rose up again, the long, winding line, curving from the middle, expanding ever outwards. She held the symbol in her mind, memorizing the shape, the simplicity and beauty of its design. It spoke to her, not through words, but through a feeling. From the inside to the outside, that is where the line forged its path.
From the inside to the outside.
It was hers now, this strange symbol carved into rock so long ago. It was waiting, she felt, waiting for someone to see and understand. She did not profess to understand it to any great degree, but a sense of the image was growing, slowly taking shape within her being. Within her essence. But the symbol moved both ways, she realized. The path was ever changing, moving, reimagined and fluid as the water of the stream.
From the outside to the inside.
She attempted to hold the image behind her eyes, following the line from the outside to the inside, going deeper within her mind, past the sound of Wilcox screaming, past the thoughts and noise to the place where she was quiet, where she was still. The place where she was aware, senses deprived, seeing less but somehow seeing more.
It was of no use. The words were louder this time, too loud. They reverberated through her mind once more and she was unable to stop the voices as they joined in adulation to give thanks to the Pinnacle Officer and FERTS. The words repeated, drowning out her thoughts.
She began to sweat, hunched over in the corner, birds singing outside the window, the sun shining down, a scent of wildflowers in the air. She clutched her stomach as the words mocked her, repeating as she drifted back to a fitful sleep.
Fear is what makes us real.
Fear is what makes us real.
Fear.
– 29 –
201 awoke to the sound of the cabin door crashing open. Rafaella stood in the doorway, looking between Reno and 201.
“You their leader?” she asked Reno.
Reno looked up. “Yes, I…”
He was silenced by Rafaella’s fist connecting w
ith his cheekbone. He lurched to the right, sliding down the wooden wall. Reno groaned, spitting blood into the straw.
“That’s for Cal. You’re lucky I don’t…” she trailed off, looking at 201. “What’s with you?”
“What?”
“Your uniform.” She gestured at the stain.
201 looked down, unaware for a moment of how she must look with her jumpsuit covered in blood and her face bruised and swollen.
“Raf… Rafaella. I need to speak with you.” 201 widened her eyes, trying to convey the importance of her statement. Her eyes refused to cooperate, one of them still swollen from the encounter with 299. “I need to speak with you, alone.”
“I don’t think so. Who’d you kill? It wasn’t one of ours, so who was it?”
“201?” Reno edged himself up the wall, flexing his jaw. “What is she saying? You told me…”
“Don’t make me say it, Raf.” 201 squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to block out Reno’s furious stare.
“Only my friends call me Raf.” Rafaella leaned down, her eyes wild. “Who did you kill?”
“I can’t…” 201 edged back towards the corner of the cabin.
“Who did you kill?” Rafaella shouted, banging her fist on the floor, the sound muffled by the straw. 201 felt the jolt go through her, sweat breaking out along her arms.
She took a deep breath, looking over Rafaella’s shoulder to meet Reno’s eyes. “I expired Pinnacle Officer Wilcox.”
Reno sucked in a breath. 201 looked past Rafaella to see Reno staring at her, his olive skin becoming pale.
Rafaella knelt one knee on the straw. “I don’t believe you. Even we weren’t crazy enough to try something like that.”
“Check my boot.” Rafaella looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “No, the other one. You will find it there.”
Rafaella felt around 201’s ankle, fingers closing around cold metal. She pulled it out, turning it over in her palm. The regulation nail file was sharpened to a deadly point, smeared with the dried blood of Pinnacle Officer Wilcox.
“The wound…” whispered Reno from behind Rafaella. “That’s the right size, the right shape. I didn’t think of something like that. It’s not even a weapon.”