by T. C. Edge
“Go ahead,” he croaks.
“I asked you earlier if you knew who I was, and you said you'd heard of me. What have you heard, exactly?”
“A few things...you and your friends ran away from Eden, killed some soldiers at the wall, and escaped to join the rebels.”
“And you believe that?”
“Well, yeah, you must have run away and joined them, because here you are. We saw that helicopter coming from over the wall.”
“And you think we killed soldiers to escape?”
His answer isn't as quick.
“Well, you don't seem the type, the way you argued for my life. But then, the other two...that Theo Graves and your leader, they killed my colleagues.”
“I'm sorry. They didn't think they had a choice. You know Theo?”
“Yeah, I know Theo,” he says harshly. “Son of two Councillors on Eden, born into luxury and wealth. And then goes and betrays his country, his people.”
“That's not what happened.”
“Then what? You explain it to me, because all I've seen so far is you lot come over here, kill a bunch of guys who only try to keep the peace...and now what, you're going to the coast. Why? What are you here for?”
“I can't tell you that, Tommy. You've been lied to your whole life. We all have. Only, I'm the one who's seen it first hand. I don't expect you to believe me.”
“I don't. We're honest, hard working people. We do our duties, get on with our lives. They're not perfect, but we're all fit for something aren't we? Why are you trying to disrupt that?”
“Because this world isn't fair!” I say, my voice raising. “How can you sit there and be happy when a man like Augustus Knight twirls us all around his little finger to suit his own end. Everything we do is for Eden, can't you see that. The way people live there, in luxury, just because they're deemed more important. I've seen all sides of it now, and I can tell you, the rebels have the right idea.”
“And what's that?”
“To kill Knight,” I say hurriedly.
“Cyra!” The voice booms behind me.
I turn to see Drake storming in.
“Shut the door and come with me, right now!”
I follow Drake out of the room, through the house, and into the cool evening air. His face fumes when he turns on me.
“You realise what you've done, don't you! You've just told our captive what we're here to do. How can we let him go now? How! We have no choice but to kill him.”
“No, what difference does it make if he knows or not. It's obvious what we're here for. You were always planning on killing him anyway, I know it.”
He doesn't answer.
“He knows who we are, dad. He knows who I am, Theo, Ellie. They've been dragging our names through the mud here.”
“And what did you expect? You ran away and joined the rebels. Of course Knight's going to slander you.”
“But if he believes it, then why wouldn't everyone else. Why would they even want us to kill Knight. People are happy conforming. They don't want things to change.”
“They have no choice. It will be forced on them.”
“Forced on them! If that's the case, then what's the difference between us and Knight. If the Master gets power, who's to say he won't just keep things as they are. It would be a whole lot easier than dismantling all the systems in place. That'll create havoc.”
“Yeah, and from that havoc, something resembling a fair, equitable society will be born. Change doesn't come easy. It's almost always preceded by pain and suffering. But it's necessary too.”
I huff, deeply, and look up into the night sky. Somehow, everything up there always seems so simple, so calming.
“I wish we could just leave,” I say quietly, staring up. “All of us, just fly back over the wall and run away forever. Leave this world to their suffering.”
“You don't mean that. You have a responsibility. Your gift gives you that.”
“My gift...,” I mumble, my voice darkening. “...you mean my curse.”
With that, I slowly wander away, leaving him alone, and return to my bedroom. Back to the torment of my subconscious. Back to the pain and suffering of others...and myself.
And as I drift off, a single thought seeds itself into my head.
No one else is going to die. I'm going to kill Knight on my own.
18 - Fossor
Progress the following day is slow as we advance further from the wall. Still a long way from the coast, the fear of capture becomes a very real concern. More patrols are spotted, more Custodians roam the landscape. Occasionally we pass straight by them, zooming past us on the roads. Each time I instinctively sink lower into my seat, Ellie doing the same beside me.
But we don't stop, and we don't slow. And neither do they.
“There's nothing suspicious about a couple of cars filled with Custodians on these roads,” announces Markus confidently.
He's probably right. Taking these cars and uniforms might just have been, as Drake put it, a stroke of luck. Without them, I doubt whether our inward journey would be quite so seamless.
Of course, I hardly expect that to last. Naturally sceptical as I am, I fear it's only a matter of time before we run into trouble. I suspect the others think the same.
But on we go, creeping forward, hiding down quiet roads and paths, navigating our way towards the coast. I sit and stare out of the window, no one saying a word, and wonder where exactly we are.
From what I can tell, we're not in a functioning region. As yet, the only people we've spotted have been Custodians and the odd patrol of soldiers, scanning up and down the country in search of possible threats.
As we go, however, that changes. Ahead, the sight of giant plumes of smoke and smog fill the sky. I'm reminded of the region of Arma, on my initial trip to Eden. There, giant factories were constantly in operation, building the weapons of war that are now being used against us.
This isn't Arma, though. We're way too far North for that. I look over at Ellie, and see the melancholy in her eyes.
“Fossor,” she says, without turning to me. “This must be Fossor.”
Link's home region. A place of mining and metal work. I remember him telling me about how it has the highest casualty rates of all the regions. How his father was one of those casualties, killed in a factory fire as he tried to save him. It was what he experienced each day in the Grid.
The sight of buildings appears amid the smoke, collections of small, single story blocks in groups along the horizon. They look like accommodation for the miners and factory workers. Beyond, much grander buildings rise high into the black sky, and the sight of giant pits, dug into the earth, dot the landscape.
The lead car ahead begins to slow, pulling over to the side of the road. Markus follows, parking behind it. We all step out and gather into a group.
“This is Fossor, according to Tommy,” says Drake. “It's a busy region, and one we're going to have to pass through. There may be checkpoints. Tommy will do the talking. Sit tight, and don't do anything stupid. And you three,” he says, looking at Ellie, Theo, and I, “put on your morph marks so they don't recognise you.”
We return to the cars, and the three of us quickly pull the masks from our bags and let them stick and mould to our skin. I don't miss the suffocating sensation, but can't help but be amused when I look over at Ellie, her youthful prettiness now abandoning her.
“Hey,” she says, hitting me as I giggle, “you don't look so great yourself you know.”
I look in the rear view mirror and see that I, too, have turned rather more unsightly than I'd like.
“OK, here we go,” says Markus as we pull off again. “Just stay low, you two. And try to pull those outfits tighter so they look like they fit you.”
We take the advice and arrange our costumes so that any excess material gathers behind our backs and under our legs. Theo turns to inspect us, his own appearance forcing both Ellie and I to laugh.
“OK, enough of that,” says Markus. “How
do they look, Theo?”
“Better,” he says, smirking through his larger lips and fatter cheeks. “Hopefully it'll do the job.”
We continue on, and I return my gaze outside to the deep pits and towering factories. A smell of industry seeps into the car, of coal and smoke and dust.
“How the hell can people stand it here?” remarks Theo. “How do they breathe this air day in and day out?”
“I guess they get used to it,” says Ellie blankly. “A lot of people die because of the smoke. Link told me that.”
The mention of his name sends a renewed silence to the car. Theo turns to stare out of the window, perhaps still racked with unnecessary guilt. I reach forward and squeeze his shoulder. His hand comes up and lays on mine, before quickly receding.
“OK, checkpoint. Damn it...” says Markus.
We all look forward again, and see a small military checkpoint up ahead. A low gate blocks the road, with two soldiers on either side of it.
It's time for Tommy to show us what he can do.
The lead car reaches the checkpoint first. We sit quietly, staring forward, as a soldier goes to the driver's side of the vehicle, Tommy now at the wheel. He speaks with him for a couple of moments, before bringing forward a scanner to check his bar code. Further questioning seems to ensue. We wait patiently, ready to spring to action if we need to. In the front seat, Markus and Theo grip their side arms tightly.
Suddenly, the soldier steps back, and waves the lead car on. It moves forward as the gate opens. We follow, the soldiers looking at us closely as we pass. They don't interfere, and we pass through the gate without further hassle.
A collective sigh sounds in our car, relieved looks appearing on every face.
We move on, covering the ground more quickly now. The sight of people, regular people, greets us for the first time since we left Petram. I look upon them, digging in pits and filing in and out of factories, black from head to toe as their skin gets coated in soot and grime.
“You look at a place like this,” says Theo, “and you see why we're doing what we're doing. What sort of life is this?”
“No life,” says Ellie angrily. “It comes down to where you're born, mostly. You're born into this, and you die here too...and so do your children, and your children's children. I never realised how easy I had it in Lignum. Even there, people moan and groan all day.”
“Same,” I say. “Agricola isn't so bad. Nothing like this, or Arma. I guess we had it lucky.”
“And you, Markus,” says Ellie. “You were born on the Deadlands, right? What do you think of this?”
He takes a moment to answer. When he does his voice is pensive and distant.
“I never knew it could be this bad,” he says. “I've lived my life free, happy. I wonder how many people here would say the same?”
“Not many,” says Ellie. “When we kill Knight, there will be parties up and down the regions.”
“You believe that?” I ask. “Not everyone will be happy for the change.”
“I believe it, of course I do,” she says. “Sometimes you don't know it until you get it, but everyone wants freedom.”
“And what about on Eden?” asks Markus, turning to Theo. “What do the people want there?”
“Honestly,” he says, “they'll be happy with how life is.”
“Not all of them,” I say. “Not the service staff and the cleaners and those crammed into Surface Level 8. You've seen it there, Theo. It's the dirty secret of the city.”
“But it's better than here. It's better than lots of other regions. The big question is, what's the alternative. If we succeed, then what?”
“Then we build a new future,” says Markus. “I've known the Master for a long time. He's a great man, a passionate man. He'll see to it that the world is fair again.”
I don't say anything, but something inside me doubts his words. Who's to know what the Master really wants. Maybe revenge is on his mind too; revenge against Knight who banished him, revenge against the people who cast him out. Maybe all he wants is to take their place.
Maybe nothing will change at all.
The land is black around us now. Soot from the mines and pits and factories rains down like snow, covering the world in a suffocating blanket. Nowhere is it green, the natural world unable to prosper. Buildings, roads, cars, people; they're all smothered in darkness.
Grim faces stare out of the window as we drive on. We continue to discuss the inequality of the world with growing anger and passion. And despite my doubts, never before have I felt such a strong desire to see our mission through.
Another checkpoint looms ahead, but once more we pass through it without any trouble. The further inland we go, it seems, the less suspicious we appear. I suppose no one really expects us to be able to get this deep without being caught.
I begin to suspect that, despite the increased military presence, there's a general sense of nonchalance here. I mean, truly, how many of these people expect anyone to cross the wall, let alone get this far inland and strike out against Eden. The plan is audacious beyond words, foolhardy even, and unlikely to be considered a serious threat by too many.
When we stop that night, having successfully passed through Fossor and entered another portion of quiet, unused land, I put the question to Tommy. Drake looks at me from afar with his eagle eyes, perhaps concerned I might run my mouth again and give something away.
“I guess, honestly, no, people aren't that concerned. Most people think that you lot will just hide behind the wall forever.”
“But what do Eden say? I mean, are they trying to suggest the rebels have a proper army and are dangerous?”
He bites his tongue, perhaps keen to not give too much away.
“Remember, Tommy, I saved your life. Tell me, please. I'm just interested, that's all.”
My calm words help to loosen his tongue. Drake continues to watch on suspiciously.
“Well, yeah, I guess that's true. But no one really believes them, at least not where I'm from. You've seen how easy it's been getting through the checkpoints today. People aren't taking it too seriously.”
“Thanks for being honest,” I say. “How is your shoulder?”
“It's OK. Stiff and painful, but OK.”
“Good, I'm glad. Sleep well tonight.”
When I leave him, Drake approaches me.
“What was all that about?” he asks.
“Nothing. Just asking about the feeling around here, whether the rebels are considered a proper threat.”
“And?”
“Not really, at least not as far as he's concerned.”
“That's good. It'll help us sneak in under the radar.”
“Well, right now it will, yeah...but as soon as we cause a stir, things will go on absolute lockdown. Breaking a guy out of Tartarus, a guy like Aeneas Stein? We need to make sure we act quickly after that.”
“I see you're coming around, Cyra?”
“I guess I have no choice. Seeing what we saw today, it kinda focuses the mind.”
“Good,” he says, “because your mind is a powerful weapon. Now get some sleep. Tomorrow, all things going well, we'll reach the coast.”
I slink off into a dark corner of an old, unused barn. These lands, now barren and rugged, appear to have once been farmed. I see old buildings, many only skeletons, others still standing, dotting the horizon, lit by a full, bright moon. Farmhouses and barns and other buildings, once lived in, once part of a vibrant community. Now, nothing but shells gathering dust.
In the barn, everyone sleeps, finding their own warm little corner. No beds tonight, no real comfort. Only hard floors and the sound of creaking wood, sent singing by a strong wind. But strangely, as I sit up against a wall, I feel peaceful.
Perhaps it's only the calm before the storm.
19 - The Rising Storm
We're all awoken in the barn by the clattering of heavy rain on the splintering roof. Drips sneak down from above and wet my head, the cool water tr
ickling down my neck and back. Outside, the deluge makes it hard to see more than a few metres out of the barn. The rain pours with a ferocity I've never seen before, stirring up so suddenly.
“It's a hurricane,” shouts Ellie as everyone wakes. “Can we travel in this?”
We all look to Drake, staring out at the storm. The wind swirls, and the barn rattles, and a deafening sound of thunder fills the air.
He begins nodding.
“We can travel,” he calls. “We have to travel. Maybe this is fate.”
“Fate?!” I gasp.
“Who else will be out in this?” he says. “It will cover us as we go.”
We all look to each other. In the distance, blurred by the tempest, the sight of an old building being ripped from its foundations fills our eyes.
“Did you see that!” shouts Jackson. “We have to go, now. There's a twister out there!”
Twisters were always a rare, but extremely dangerous, proposition back home in Agricola. Word would come of them tearing up fields, destroying crops, even dismantling buildings with people inside them. They never approached my home town of Arbor in my time there, but the threat was always present.
Jackson's warning drives us to action. Within moments we're grabbing our things and rushing out into the pouring rain. The cars, parked out of sight behind the barn, sit firm in the deepening mud.
We dive in and are quickly on the move once more, cutting through the rain and back to the road. Not far away, the sight of a swirling tower of wind looms, chasing us as we zoom away into the endless wall of water cascading down from the sky. The barn we'd occupied, previously only ratting, begins to break up in the distance behind us.
“Hurry, Markus!” shouts Ellie. “Faster!”
We're quicker than the weather, but slowed by obscured vision. Up front, Theo focuses hard, searching for danger. I do the same as another twister appears on the horizon ahead.
Suddenly, from nowhere, Theo grabs the wheel and pulls it sharply to one side.
“What the hell...” shouts Markus, as the car swerves off the road.
Then, from our right flank, an uprooted tree comes flying, a javelin sent by the hand of God to derail us. He didn't bank on Theo seeing it before it could hit.