“You have to eat, Ezra,” I whispered. “Who knows what might happen today?”
“I know, but I’ve been thinking,” he responded. “If we go to the lunar colony will we ever come back? I do miss my fellow Drones back in Port Montaigne and wonder how they are doing. I don’t want to leave if there is no way back.”
I didn’t have an answer for him. I honestly didn’t know whether we would be able to return to Earth in the aftermath of breaking orbit. I knew that eventually the orbit of the military satellites would decay and that they would fall and burn up in the atmosphere, but maybe not in our lifetime.
I thought about the people we left behind in Port Montaigne and the lives Dr. Madmar destroyed in the process of pursuing his own agenda. I mourned them because each was part of the tapestry of my old life. I lived in downtown, but I lived well by my reckoning.
“What is wrong?” Truman pausing as he walked up the ramp.
“Ezra misses his family back where we come from,” I replied, patting Ezra.
“I know how he feels,” Dragos said, teeth clenched.
“Mama?” Tullia asked.
Dragos almost imperceptibly shook his head as if he didn’t want to. Tullia wept bitterly as Dragos held her. Ezra and I looked at each other totally baffled for a moment.
“Mother’s home is boarded up. Notice on the door. Something happened to her before we could return,” Truman explained.
“Maybe she just moved?” I asked.
“No, not unless she was dead or they took her away for some reason,” Truman replied.
“Who is they?” Ezra asked between mouthfuls.
“CGG owns most of the village, or at least they did before the shutdown of global economic system. If you miss a single house payment or do not pay taxes, they take you to a work camp,” Dragos replied bitterly.
“Someone has to know what happened!” I said, wondering why they weren’t going door to door trying to find their mom.
“Not so simple,” Truman stated, looking over his shoulder. “Dragos is army deserter and a known Financial Liberation Front asset. I am also wanted fugitive.”
“What are you wanted for?” Ezra asked.
“Murder,” Truman replied. “I kill two people in prison. It was me or them.”
Ezra and I just blinked at Truman for a moment expectantly.
“He was young and foolish,” Tullia said at last. “He bought a car he couldn’t afford and they sent him to work camp to pay what he owed after it was repossessed. You must understand, Central Global Government gave certain governments latitude to avoid being defunded in their own way. In Serbia it was work camps.”
Truman just looked down, putting his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet.
“I don’t remember anything like that making the news internationally,” I said.
“In Serbia, it wasn’t news. Truthfully, compared to other places, we had it pretty good at home here. There were jobs to work and ways to get along provided you didn’t try to live like a rockstar,” Dragos explained, speaking a little louder in Truman’s direction toward the end.
“I know, I was fool,” Truman said indignantly.
“You just wanted what it seemed everyone else had,” I said in his defense.
“If you watch TV, it sure seems that way,” Truman lamented.
“So, what are we going to do? Just leave?” Ezra asked.
Dragos contemplated the answer for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure himself. Truman shrugged sadly. Finally, Dragos turned to Tullia.
“It’s up to you, little sister,” Dragos said quietly. “Could be more trouble than we want. Do you think Mama would want us to take a risk in her behalf?”
“She would probably beat us with a stick for risking ourselves to find her,” Tullia answered. “I need to know what happened to her, though. I cannot leave until I do.”
“Okay. Taylor and I will go poke around in town and try to find out what happened,” Dragos replied.
“What? Why you and Taylor?” Ezra asked, putting the oatmeal down.
“I need someone who speaks very good English, with American accent. Ezra and Matthias both have slight accent, and we can’t risk something happening to Silverstein. Taylor with her colorful coat and hair will look like a lost tourist,” Dragos explained.
I believed him, but Ezra was extremely uncomfortable with the idea.
“It’ll be okay. I want to help him. If we’re not back soon, you have my permission to tear the town to tiny pieces looking for me,” I said hugging Ezra.
Ezra and Dragos locked eyes for a moment, as if they were exchanging a silent vow. Dragos then turned and handed Truman his rifle, two handguns, a selection of knives and, his dog tags. He hugged Tullia and then Truman, then asked me if I was ready to go. I was.
I followed him through the field to a dirt road and then into the small village. None of the buildings were the type you would see in Helsinki or Port Montaigne. Most looked to be at least a hundred years old and lacking any of the modern countermeasures against theft or terrorism. People walked past us raising their hands in greeting, wishing us a good morning, some in English when they saw me.
We walked into the police station where Dragos began to talk to the desk sergeant pointing to me occasionally. The officer came over to me and took my hand.
“I am so sorry your wallet was taken. Please, come this way and fill out a report, we’ll see if we can help you,” he said in fairly good English.
I sat down at the desk and distracted him as best as I could while Dragos slipped into an office and thumbed through a file cabinet. He was only a minute before he slipped back out. I filled out the report, giving as vague a description as I could. I could tell the desk sergeant wasn’t going to work too hard on this based on the degree of cooperation he was receiving from me.
“Thank you. Is this contact information current, in case we find your wallet?”
I nodded.
“Is there anyone I can call for you?”
I shook my head and smiled.
“Okay, we’ll be in touch. Hopefully, we can find something out today,” he said trying to be friendly.
We walked back out into the street. Dragos reached back and pulled the bit of string that was holding his hair back letting it fall down about his shoulders. We went into a corner store that had precious little on the shelves. Dragos bought two cigarettes.
“Want one?” he asked me.
“Oh yes, I haven’t had one for a very long time,” I replied trying to remember the last time I smoked.
He lit both and handed me one. It tasted a lot like the one’s Silverstein smoked.
“Did the shopkeeper have anymore? I’ll bet Silverstein would like these,” I asked.
“Yes. Are you and Silverstein... together? I mean are you and he...?” Dragos stammered.
“Did you really need me to come along with you? Or did you just want to get me alone to find out if I have a boyfriend?” I asked fishing around in my bag for something I could use to get more cigarettes.
“Both,” he replied.
“Silverstein and I are very close and we care for each other very deeply,” I replied, finding some old CGG credit slips. “Think he’ll take these?”
“But?” Dragos said nodding and gesturing to the shop door.
We went inside and I bought as many cigarettes as I could afford. He wouldn’t take my CGG credit slips, but after looking in my large bag of stuff, he gladly traded me twenty cigarettes for a lipstick and a bottle of perfume I didn’t like anyway. He smiled, sure he got the better end of the deal.
A lot of people probably thought that things would be back to normal soon and that the CGG would just turn the lights back on any minute. The shopkeeper wasn’t an optimist in this regard, a
nd neither was I. That one civilized transaction with the shopkeeper made me incredibly homesick, and glad that I had something to trade.
“You were telling me about you and Silverstein,” Dragos said as I came back out, refusing to let the conversation drop.
“We both have our issues, things that really make contemplating a relationship difficult,” I explained.
“With each other?” Dragos ventured.
“With anyone,” I replied.
“That is too bad. Are you sure I cannot help?” Dragos asked.
I smiled and shook my head.
I really didn’t know what to tell him. I certainly couldn’t tell him that Silverstein was most likely an amnesiac Vance Uroboros and that I was a terrestrial artificial intelligence. At that moment, I certainly didn’t feel artificial in the slightest. It was really flattering to be wanted, and Dragos was very handsome in his own way. The hair certainly helped.
“You are beautiful, but that is not what gives you allure. I have traveled the world, met many people. Never, anyone like you,” Dragos said, crushing the remainder of his cigarette into the pavement.
I offered him one of my cigarettes to replace the one he gave me.
“Gift,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “Maybe I take one later?”
“Did you find what you were looking for in the police station?” I changed the subject.
“No. It does not make sense, she isn’t listed as having her home repossessed. I have a friend we can talk to,” Dragos said quickly, as if he had been snapped back to reality too abruptly.
We walked to a small house just outside the downtown area. The tiny cottage was surrounded by a rickety plastic fence and painted forest green. The door opened before we even made it up the short walk to the door. A police officer stepped out into the yard.
“Bratislav?” Dragos said, obviously surprised.
“Yes, Dragos,” the policeman replied in a thick Slavic accent, just as surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I am looking for my mother,” Dragos replied looking nervously.
“Relax, Dragos, relax. We killed Nikola and his brother Pavle, the village is run by man we elected,” Bratislav said, holding up his hands.
“What happened to my mother?” Dragos asked, more insistently.
“She died of heart attack. We put the CGG notice on the door to deter people from looting. I knew you would come home eventually. Your mama’s house should be just as you left it. I pull out anything that might spoil and covered things up for you,” Bratislav explained, his hand still up in front of him.
“Why would you do that?” Dragos said quietly, still nervous.
“We all know what you did. CGG came through looking for you. Russian Mafia got nervous and pulled support for Nikola and Pavle because of it. People in the town made sure they didn’t get home from drinking and we’ve been okay since,” Bratislav explained.
Dragos was quiet for a moment.
“Who is your colorful friend?” Bratislav asked, looking to Dragos for approval to shake my hand.
“She is friend,” Dragos said with a nod.
“Hello, friend,” he said and shook my hand. “I am Bratislav.”
“What happens now?” Dragos said, still obviously distrustful of Bratislav.
“I should show you where your mother’s grave is. I just need to get my coat,” he replied heading back toward the door.
Dragos reached out and grabbed Bratislav by the hand taking the handgun from his belt in one fluid motion. Bratislav didn’t struggle, he just held his hands higher in acquiescence. Dragos looked around nervously, walking the police officer back into the house. Not sure what else to do, I followed him inside.
“You have gotten fat, and obviously stupid if you think I am to believe you,” Dragos sneered pushing Bratislav down into a chair.
Bratislav sighed loudly and folded his hands in front of him on his lap.
“Dragos, you were hired to do a job,” Bratislav replied coolly. “Your employer heard that you are thinking of backing out. You should just head back to your transport and await instructions. How did you know? My story was very good I thought.”
“You always were a bitch, Bratislav. You stink like the shit you are full of,” Dragos said putting the handgun into his waistband.
Bratislav nodded and leaned forward slightly.
“Again, I ask you. What happens now?” Dragos insisted.
“Past getting you and your sister to go out to the graveyard by eight in the morning, I have no idea. I’m telling you the truth,” Bratislav replied.
“Who are you working for?” I asked.
“He said he is Vance Uroboros,” Bratislav replied.
“Nikola and Pavle?” Dragos asked.
“Dead, just like I said. That part was true.”
“The Russians?”
“I still owe them money, I’ll never be out,” Bratislav replied.
“I disagree.” Dragos pulled the gun from his waistband and shot Bratislav in the face.
He slumped forward, blood spilling out of the steaming wound in his ruined face. I couldn’t help myself, I let out a short scream before Dragos clamped his hand over my mouth. I struggled against him, trying to get away.
“Quiet, we need to get out of here,” Dragos said picking me up.
When we got outside he set me down and I gave him the most betrayed and angry look I could muster. He looked sadly down at my tears on the hand he’d used to stifle me and then motioned for me to follow. He didn’t have to shoot that man, and I was pretty much done following him around as a consequence.
“Please, we need to go,” Dragos said.
“You can’t just go around shooting people, and I swear you’ll regret it if you ever touch me again,” I replied angrily.
“There really is no time to explain. We need to go,” Dragos pleaded, looking genuinely afraid.
I grudgingly followed, just ahead of a crowd of people coming to the cottage to see what was going on. Ezra tearing up someone who is armed and trying to hurt us is one thing, but Dragos executing someone like that was not okay. I decided at that moment that Ezra, Silverstein, and I needed to get some distance between us and these people, or Dragos at least. I wasn’t sure what Matthias would say, and I didn’t care. I was pissed.
“I hope you know we’re done. I’ll tell my friends what you did and that’ll be that,” I muttered as we walked through a field.
“Did you hear the way Bratislav was talking?” Dragos replied as we walked.
“No,” I replied too angry to think straight.
“His accent went away and his English improved. He spoke just like someone for whom English is their first language,” Dragos replied grimly.
“Yes, I guess so. I don’t see how that matters,” I replied.
“When I fight with the FLF we encountered people like that once in a while. They would act like someone else was controlling them. Sometimes it would be a friend we would not see for some time and then they would betray us,” Dragos tried to explain.
“And?” I said impatiently.
“We could always tell because the way they talked would change. After, when we check their bodies, we’d find out they weren’t real. They had mechanical parts in them, and the rest looked to have been grown in a laboratory, and then made to look like the person,” Dragos explained.
A shock ran through me as I thought about how Madmar had used Russ and our friends back in Port Montaigne against us.
“How well did you know Bratislav?” I asked.
“Since we were children. Well enough to know that was not him we were talking to. Also, I could never have disarmed the real Bratislav like that, and he would never have tolerated me calling him fat or stupid. He would kick m
y ass,” Dragos replied sadly.
“You were friends?”
“He taught me to fight in the military. Very good friends.”
I had to wonder if Ezra faced the same situation with Russ when he walked into that trap going into Port Montaigne alone to find the catalyst. If Dragos was right it meant that someone was kidnapping people, replacing them with synthetic replicas, and forcing them to hurt their friends, face death, or worse. It seemed horribly inefficient, but when you needed a body double that looked and acted like the real thing, it would be incredibly effective as long as the person was afraid of pain or death.
“I know it is hard to believe, but someone is controlling these people,” Dragos whispered.
“I believe you, but do you think that was the best way to handle that situation?” I replied.
“If I were being controlled like that, I would hope someone would shoot me before I could hurt someone I cared about,” Dragos replied.
We walked the rest of the way to the transport in silence. Silverstein and Ezra were outside talking to Truman as we emerged from the brush. They were relieved to see me, and I was very glad to see them. Truman exchanged a few words with his brother and then walked inside the transport.
“What happened?” Silverstein asked, seeing I was a little shook up.
“One of Dragos’ friends had done to him the same thing, or similar to what was done to Russ,” I explained.
“Oh, this is not good,” Ezra muttered.
“What happened?” Silverstein asked.
“Dragos shot him in the face, right in front of me,” I said tearfully.
“God...” Silverstein said wrapping his arms around me.
Silverstein wasn’t strong or fast, or even deadly. None of that mattered, he could make me feel safe like no one else could. I knew deep down he was good, and that he would never hurt me or anyone else for that matter. I hugged him back as tightly as I could, not wanting to let go.
Ezra looked suitably grumpy.
Uroboros Saga Book 2 Page 14