FERTS

by Grace Hudson

  The Resident Citizens reached up to claim their Vassals, yanking them down from the wooden platform, some hoisted over shoulders, some stumbling down to ground level, attempting to stay upright as they were unceremoniously ushered away by their new Vendees. 201, 261 and the others returned to the cage, the clasp snicking shut behind them as the first Officer left to procure some cider for the journey back to FERTS. The second Liaison Officer stayed with the cart, guarding the haul from the Vassal sales and the remaining Vassals. When the Officer returned with a large clay jug of cider, the other clacked the leather reins, urging the horses forward for the uphill climb.

  – 56 –

  201 could not stop the thoughts cascading through her head, this new information was almost too much for her to assimilate.

  …unfortunate incident in recent months…sincere apologies…complimentary beacon…escape…escape…escape…

  A Vassal had escaped. In the past few months.

  201 thought solemnly about the reasons as to why a Vassal would attempt to escape her Resident Citizen Vendee. Sadly, it did not require much thought. Images of Vendee Yuri, belt in hand, ran through her mind for the first time since her dream, making her shiver in the evening mist as the cart climbed further towards the summit of the mountain.

  271 leaned closer to 201, lurching as the cart skipped on a rock.

  “Hey. It's not that bad, you know. Not all Vassals get chosen the first time around. I’ve already been chosen once before, so I guess it’s not so bad for me. Although you being 24Y, it doesn’t make it any easier.”

  201 decided to play along.

  “You’re not helping.” She nudged 271 playfully. “I just got scared, that’s all. That Resident Citizen Garron is a little… intimidating.”

  “I know, 201. He’s so powerful, so influential. I would have been flustered as well. Although, I think I would have hidden it much better than you managed. Your face just shows everything! You need to work on that, and your seduction techniques as well,” she said, snickering, nudging 201 in the ribs.

  “Maybe you could help me? I guess I do need to learn how to keep my real feelings where they belong. Inside, where no others can see them.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. We’ll practice in the ration room, I suppose you can sit with me next time, I’ll show you some tricks.”

  “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

  “Anyway, you don’t need that much help from me. Resident Citizen Garron did pick you after all.” 201’s face crumpled, tears threatening to spill.

  “Oh, 201. There you go again. You’ve got to hold that sort of thing behind your presentation face. I’ll show you later. But there’s no need to worry, you are sure to see Garron next time. Isn’t that exciting?”

  201 felt her face straining to withhold the tears. She straightened, pushing her wretchedness deep down within, willing herself to widen her mouth, squint her eyes in happiness, as if 271’s words had caused her some kind of solace. 271 brightened, seemingly convinced. 201 smiled, a genuine burst of warmth trickling through her being. This time, however, it was not Garron’s face that filled her thoughts.

  – 57 –

  That night, Rafaella and Caltha stood before her, though they never acknowledged her presence. 201 had to step back a number of times to avoid being part of a collision between herself, Caltha and a new one, one she had not seen before. Limping through the door, arm draped over Caltha’s shoulder, she slumped on a chair, large blanket draped around her shoulders.

  “How is she?”

  Caltha bent down before her, blotting her leg with a damp cloth. She was pale, sweating and confused. She was covered in dried blood, so much so that it was hard to determine what her clothes had looked like when they were clean.

  “Cal. How is she?” Rafaella spoke evenly, hiding her frustration.

  “Sorry. I can’t tell.”

  “Mph?” The new one was very thin, with high cheekbones and thick, glossy black hair. The gold chain around her neck clinked and tinkled as she moved.

  “What’s your name?” Rafaella knelt on her other side, hand on her shoulder.

  “She’s lost a lot of blood.” Caltha shook her head, wetting the cloth in a bowl and returning to the trickles of blood running down her jumpsuit, an untouched patch of white showing in the crease under her knee.

  Rafaella squeezed her arm gently, urging the newcomer to look up, eyes unfocused.

  “Hey.” Rafaella smiled, though the tension bled through her features. “Hey. What’s your name?”

  “Ugh.” She slumped again, head lolling back over the head of the chair, eyes rolling to focus on Rafaella’s face.

  “She needs water. Cal, grab some more cloth. I’ll take care of the leg.” Caltha rushed to bring strips of cloth, piled over her arm. In her other hand she carried a small jug of water. Rafaella worked quickly, cutting the clothing around the wound and ripping it away, earning a whine of protest for her efforts. She soaked the first few pieces of cloth in the liquid from the bowl, dripping the bronze tinged concoction on the stone floor. She secured them around the wound on her leg, pulling tightly.

  “Ow!”

  “Sorry, sorry,” Rafaella muttered.

  “Cal, do we have any fastenings?” A small pin appeared in her hand. She threaded the pin through the material, covering the sharp tip with a sticky round ball. She then produced three more pieces of cloth, dried ones this time, wrapping them in much the same manner as the others.

  “We need more wax.” Caltha rummaged in a small wooden box, producing another sticky round ball to hand to Rafaella.

  “Beth…”

  “Check her for other wounds.”

  “I did that already,” Caltha said, snapping back at Rafaella. “She’s got a small cut on her forehead and another on her left arm. They’re not bad though.” She rummaged through the box again, laying out each item side by side. “Damn it. We need more supplies.”

  “Beth…”

  “You need to check her again! We can’t have her getting sick or worse because we missed something.”

  “Beth!” the voice between them shouted, a hoarse and reedy sound. Both heads turned to face her in unison.

  “Beth 259292. 23Y, Vassal, Beta Circuit.”

  Rafaella turned to Caltha, gripping her arm and giving it a shake. Satisfied, the Vassal nodded, head lolling to the side once more.

  “Raf, they’re real,” Caltha whispered. “They really exist.”

  The Vassal squinted up at them. Rafaella moved forward, placing a hand on her forehead.

  “You came from FERTS.” It wasn’t a question. “Can you tell us where it is?” Rafaella urged.

  “Raf… Leave her alone for a bit.”

  “The suspension zone. Rocky plains.”

  “You mean the forbidden territories?” The Vassal shrugged.

  Rafaella leapt to her feet, shaking her head in frustration. “Of course, of course, where else would they hide it? It’s so simple.” The Vassal attempted to sit up, blinking rapidly to clear her vision.

  “Who are you? And why are you dressed like this? Where is your insignia?”

  Caltha looked at Rafaella, eyes questioning. Rafaella shook her head, leaving the room only to return with a mug, steam rising gently in curls.

  “Here. Drink this. It will make you feel better.” The Vassal took the mug, taking a sip.

  “What is this?” The Vassal scrunched up her face, eyes widening as she sipped again.

  “It’s called tea,” Caltha said, smiling. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “How did you escape? Through the… what did you call it, the suspension zone?”

  “Of course not. The Implant Marker would have expired me within minutes. The Ward Beacon hardly ever fails to expire or return an Internee.”

  “What kind of…” Rafaella interjected. Caltha placed a hand on her arm, silencing her.

  “One of the Officers, he told me about it, during, well, after one of our… ‘meetin
gs’. The Implant Marker, it’s somewhere in here.” She gestured down her neck, hovering in the area around her collarbone. “He talked a lot, very useful for me. I guess talking was all he was good for, really. At least, I preferred it that way.” She shook her head at the memory.

  “So how…”

  “I was sold as a Vassal. To Vendee Yuri. In the township of Evergreen. He… hurt me. Hit me so many times I can’t remember. He took me most nights, then hit me with his fists, a belt, whatever he could find. He enjoyed it, hurting me. He laughed when he did it. I used everything I had learned from my training, did everything to please my Vendee. But he wouldn’t stop. He had no need to stop, I knew that. This is what we are here for, to do all that our Vendee requires. I awoke one night, there was blood, so much blood. He had cut me, but he had fallen asleep before he could finish. I got up and looked at him that night, I was standing over him. He was asleep in the chair by the bed, knife in one hand, a drink in the other. I think it was cider. The drink was leaking out of the side of the cup, he was barely holding on to the handle. And I looked at the drink leaking out on to the floor, and looked at my leg and the blood looked just like it and I couldn’t… I just couldn’t…”

  “It’s okay.” Caltha patted her forearm gently.

  The Vassal smiled bitterly. “This is hard for me, I find it hard to say out loud.”

  “Go on.” Rafaella urged her on, seating herself on the floor, backlit by the fire.

  “I took the knife out of his hand. It wasn’t hard, he was in a deep sleep. I pushed it into his chest. Then I pulled it out and I pushed it in again, and again. He opened his eyes, and he looked at me, I knew he was going to call out so I pushed a pillow from the bed over his face and I used the knife again, and again. There was so much blood, I knew he was expired but I just kept going. Then I ran, I made it out through the back and just ran. I didn’t know where I was going, just kept going in the same direction. The bleeding was bad, I knew I wouldn’t get very far with my leg like this.” She took a shaky breath. “There will be a scar. There’s no going back now, he made sure I would not return to Beta Circuit. But that night, I came to know that he was going to expire me. Maybe not that night, maybe the next, I don’t know, but he would have done it.”

  “How did you find Jotha?”

  The Vassal took another sip of her tea, shaking her head. “I didn’t. He found me. I tried to stay away from the road, I drank from the river, tried to wash off the blood. His horse startled me, nearly knocked me into the river. When I saw him I tried to run, but I fell. He told me he could help. I didn’t believe him but I was too tired to run. He put me on his horse and took me here, to this place.” Her head listed to the side, eyes growing heavy.

  “Come, you need to sleep.” Caltha lifted her to her feet, helping her through to one of the bedrooms, covering her with warm blankets. When she returned, Rafaella had not moved from her spot on the floor, staring resolutely.

  “What’s wrong?” Caltha joined her on the floor, warming her hands by the fire.

  “She’ll lead them here. I’m glad Jotha found her but she’ll lead them here, to us.”

  “How can you say that? Aren’t you glad we finally know that FERTS is real? That there are more like her? All the stories we heard, the sightings, but to see it for ourselves...”

  “Don’t you understand? They’ll be looking for her. They’ll follow her here, to us. Someone will talk.”

  “Only Jotha saw her. She said this herself. You worry too much.”

  “That’s what I do. I worry so you don’t get hurt, so none of us get hurt. You may not be afraid for yourself, but who will care for Adira? She’s already lost a father because of reckless decisions.” Caltha flinched.

  “I’m sorry. That was… I shouldn’t have said it like that. It’s just I fear that this has started something. We can now no longer do nothing, knowing that FERTS exists. Knowing there are others like her. We know we must help them, this is what we do.”

  “Yes. I know. We have to help them.” Caltha placed a hand on Rafaella’s shoulder, smoothing the crinkles in her ruffled tunic. “We have to do something. We have to talk to the others about this.”

  Rafaella smiled ruefully, shaking her head and turning back to stare into the fire.

  – 58 –

  201 was startled by her door sucking open after ration check. The Officer was of medium height, with a pointed nose and reddish hair. He sneered at 201, removing his Officer’s coat.

  “Strip, 201.”

  “You even learned my name. Well done,” 201 muttered.

  “I won’t ask again. And if you talk back, I will make it hurt, just to teach you a lesson.”

  201 stood in silence, making no move to undress.

  The Officer, Ryan, 49Y, growled, charging forward and pushing 201 to the bed. 201 was silent, refusing to cry out or assist him in the removal of her jumpsuit.

  The door sucked open again. Harold stood in the doorway, mouth open in surprise.

  201 looked at Harold, pleading with her eyes, unwilling to speak for fear of retribution.

  “201. I was not aware you had company. I will return later.”

  201 pushed at Officer Ryan, struggling against the tightening grip on her arms as Harold moved to step back from the doorway.

  “No, no, no, NO!”

  Harold turned away from 201, face impassive.

  “As I said before, I was not aware you had company. I will come back later.”

  “No! Harold! I will not forget this! I will not forget what you have done!” she screamed after his retreating form as the door sucked shut behind him, Officer Ryan’s smug face looming above her.

  He removed her jumpsuit roughly, ripping the material and discarding it with scorn. 201 felt herself splitting from her body, her mind breaking away, splintering in fragments once more. She found herself flying through forests, over mountains, the night air cooling her skin. It was just as well. Officer Ryan was an Officer true to his word. And true to his word, he made it hurt.

  – 59 –

  That night, 201 dreamed of a sea of orange. It pulsed and throbbed, moving both in unison and in chaos. It swelled, shrunk, surged and retreated, the dull orange of Kappa Circuit flooding her mind.

  A whistle sounded, breaking the silence.

  She watched in wonder as dozens of arms raised in unison, swinging down with a loud clacking sound. The mass of figures each held an axe, blades flashing as they came down in jumbled cooperation. Two Officers stood at the head of the group, monitoring, cataloguing, preparing their reports that would inevitably land on Pinnacle Officer Wilcox’s desk for his ultimate approval.

  It’s the wood. The wood for the burners, for the boilers, to keep us warm, to prepare the rations.

  The whistle sounded out, sharp and shrill.

  The blades raised once more, swinging as they came down upon the rows of logs. The wood splintered on the next swing, cracks echoing through the stone hall haphazardly, out of time.

  The forest provides the wood. The Kappa Internees provide the labor, this is how it is done.

  The first Officer blew a whistle, signalling to continue work. The blades swung once more, axeheads glinting in the flickering lights overhead.

  The Officers take the wood. They take the wood to burn…

  She saw it then. Another room with large locks, the bars hidden from view in the next room. The other room, carefully hidden from all Internee fellows from Beta, Omega, Epsilon and Kappa. The few select Officers chosen for this special task were the only ones who knew the true purpose of their mission. She witnessed them supervising, shouting, disciplining the orange figures as they filed past, oblivious of the purpose of their massive task. The Internees ferried back and forth, a line of orange insects, carrying, loading the wood, stacking one by one, piling it up so high that 201 could barely see where it ended.

  The furnace. It feeds the furnace. It feeds the furnace to burn, to burn, to burn…

  Jolted back to th
e room of Kappa, 201 reeled, the sea of orange swirled and swung, raising and swiping, jumpsuits bending and straightening.

  The whistle jolted her, discordant. Something was wrong with the whistle, it sounded…

  Broken.

  This time there was no splintering, no crack of metal on wood.

  This time she head the sickening crack of metal on bone, the unmistakable crunch, the sucking sound of metal on flesh, on muscle, on brain.

  The Officers looked on, oblivious, checking their clipboards and recording their daily notes. The first Officer sounded the whistle once more, the sound was louder now, it sounded so much less like a whistle and more like…

  A siren. A beacon. The siren.

  A tingling spread throughout 201’s body, she began to convulse in her sleep, grasping at the bedcovers to gain some kind of purchase.

  The Kappa Internees made no sound, faces impassive, axes firmly planted in sure grips, they swung and released, swung and released, repetitively, rhythmically, stoically. They pressed on, continuing their work just as before.

  When the axeheads raised once more, blood slaked from the blades with a sucking, splattering sound, flinging jagged, angular patterns on the stone walls.

  – 60 –

  The main cabin at Akecheta was filled with activity this night. Rafaella and Caltha stood side by side as Jotha, Liam, Petra, Bonni, Symon, Ginnie, Kap, Vern and Beth 259292 crowded around the crudely drawn map, a W drawn to the side of the facility to represent the Ward Beacon.

  They all wore similar timepieces, checked against each other for synchronization and accuracy.

  “So, uh… what do I call you?” Rafaella faltered, gesturing towards Beth 259292, who looked back at her as if she were simple.

  “292, of course!” She rolled her eyes.

  “Yeah, of course. 292. Okay. We’ve got to find you a name, a real name. I guess that can wait until later. Now, where did you say Wilcox’s quarters are in relation to this hallway here?”