by Milo James
The bonnets had been laid out in a line on deal tables. I selected number three, carefully lifting the contraption onto a form beside a high wooden stool. It looked more like a bee hive than a child's bonnet, but the cheery nickname had been applied long before the scorching had taken creativity from the world.
The tall rounded cone, wound with brass and copper staples like the underside of a railroad track, glowed at the edges from the tiny ray generator spinning like a high-speed locomotive around the inner lining. I didn't know the scientific magic involved. I simply placed the device and set the connections. My job wasn't to ensure the scorching ray seared its sinister template into the subject's brain. I was merely a kind face, a pleasant babysitter for children who hadn't yet been altered, and who would never after feel the need for comfort.
~
The first of my carriages pushed forward, drawn by electric wires embedded beneath the checkered linoleum floor. The fair-haired little boy inside shuddered as I lifted him onto the stool. His tiny hands clenched briefly when I placed the bonnet over his head, dropping to his sides as the scorching device flashed from brim to point.
"There we go." I removed the device. The boy's trembling lip had set into a firm line, his fear burned away. "That wasn't anything at all, was it?"
He stared at me, unblinking. The template had rewired his brain, burning away some bits, and fusing connections together where none had existed.
I lowered him back into his carriage without another word.
~
Work progressed with methodical, machine-like efficiency for nearly an hour before bonnet number three began to display signs of instability.
The movable cartridge faltered, jamming in its mad dash around the inner rings of the device. I tapped the housing. It skipped, making a squeal like a phonograph record, and then continued its circuit and completed the process. The dark-skinned boy beneath never complained. He gazed at me with the same unblinking stare when I pulled the bonnet away.
A spark of bright ruby light erupted from the cowl as I laid it back on the form. I glanced along the row of scorch mothers, but none had noticed. The warden marched relentlessly along the periphery of the room, her attention distracted by the immense vacuum tubes. I thought for a moment to call for her, but hesitated. She would take the bonnet, and I'd be sent home.
Because of my flawed scorching, I preferred to work. The monotony of daily chores at the hands of my father stirred unwanted twinges of boredom. The feelings were unsettling. The less I experienced them, the better.
~
My next charge mewed, stirring in her carriage. I tucked her onto the stool without thinking, as mindless as a walking Babbage engine, and picked up the bonnet.
Her brown eyes widened. She cried, trying to climb from the seat as I brought the device closer. She wore the same forlorn expression as the girl who'd been struck by the Omni, although it seemed jarringly out of place on such a young face. I frowned, wondering why I'd thought of the accident.
"Now... Penelope." I had to check the paper tag pinned to her frilly blue dress. "Be still. This won't hurt, not even a tiny bit."
I arranged her three times before she'd settle down long enough for me to get the bonnet on her head. Even then, she flailed her arms so much I thought I might have to call the warden after all.
"Hold still, and this will be over in a jiffy."
I readied the device and set the connections, but the bonnet didn't flash. The cartridge containing the tiny ray tube spun through its inner tracks. It spiraled from bottom to top as dutifully as ever, but never gave off its signature glow. I couldn't tell if it had worked or not.
"There we go." I lifted the bonnet. Penelope blinked back tears, her lips quivering as if she'd cry. I shushed her, and placed her back in her carriage so I'd have time to think.
Clearly, the scorching hadn't worked on this girl. She tossed about in her pram, her gaze flittering everywhere, her features full up with emotion. I blamed the bonnet, but even if it had burned a tiny fraction of its program onto her brain, she couldn't be re-scorched. The process was too dangerous to try a second time.
"What shall I do with you?" I stared at little Penelope. She looked timidly back, arms outstretched and pleading.
Scorching had been compulsory across the entire population since the Prince Consort's death nearly a decade ago, when the Queen herself had submitted to the process. There hadn't been an unaltered soul in years.
"I'm sure I'll have to tell," I said. But should I?
The scorching, so strangely lacking in some aspects of my personality, didn't remove free will. It merely suppressed the wasted notions of loyalty and sacrifice, replacing them with frugality of action and the hard limits of conformity.
The proper thing would be to do as I'd been told. Hadn't the warden specifically instructed me to "take care nothing happens" when she'd spoken to me earlier? I could let this girl go, continue my duties as if nothing had happened, and still be obeying the letter of my orders. She'd grow up without he scorching, free of the fetters binding humanity to a dull and robotic existence. What might someone like that accomplish?
~
"Do we have a problem?" The warden bent to stare into the carriage. Little Penelope hid her head.
"Mam, the bonnet's malfunctioned. I don't believe it's done its job." The words tumbled dutifully from my lips.
I felt no sense of betrayal, no sadness. The scorching wouldn't allow it. I did feel a twinge of loss, as if I'd misplaced something uniquely important, but I could not hold the sensation for long.
"Well, put it aside then."
"The girl?"
"No, the bonnet." The warden gave me one of her sour looks. "Put the bonnet aside, and continue on with the others."
"But what about the girl?" I asked.
"She's been processed. We can't do it twice."
I glanced at Penelope. She smiled and stared with curious eyes as her carriage rolled away. How would she see the world we'd made? How might she change it?
My heart beat faster, my thoughts on the future.
Then I turned, feeling nothing.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
D. A. D'Amico lives in Lowell, Massachusetts with his large family. They are the source of many of his stories, but sadly, those stories are too implausible to render into print.
The Great Exodus:
Into the Wasteland
By Steve Coate
EDITOR’S NOTE: This is part one of the six part serial, The Great Exodus
Safiya tugged at her little brother’s arm. “Come on. The old man is going to tell us a story!”
Raldan was just as excited as his sister, even though he was two years older than her. The old man’s stories were the daily highlight of the evening for the children of the community. Together, the siblings rushed to the common room, where several other children of varying ages and some of the adult population of New Kona had already gathered. Safiya and Raldan seated themselves on the dirty cold tile floor and looked up to the dais, where sat the old man, his dark beard salted with white streaks and specks that signified his advanced years.
With the help of a walking stick, the old man stood, spreading his arms wider even than the welcoming smile on his cracked face.
“Gather round, everyone.” He turned in place, gazing at those assembled as though taking stock. “Once everyone has settled down, I shall begin my tale.”
There was a shuffling sound as those assembled, perhaps 70 or more children and adults, adjusted themselves and a general shushing flowed from child to child, eager for the telling. The old man put a hand to his salt and pepper bearded chin. “Now if I could just recall which story I wanted to tell you all tonight.”
The adults in the room were wise to this tried and true ploy, having endured it many times before, and remained silent, knowing smiles upon their faces. The old man was not forgetful, though he was crafty and had a certain flair for showmanship. The children, even those who were in on the r
use, were too eager for the telling to call the old storyteller’s bluff. Besides, that would be disrespectful. A young girl’s hand reached skyward and she squealed “The great exodus! You promised to tell us all about it!”
The old man jabbed one finger into the air. “Ah, so I did.” He seated himself cross legged upon the dais. “The great exodus. This is the story of how all of us came to be in the city of New Kona. It is a tale not only of importance, as it is the history of how we came to be, but one of high adventure and moral conviction.” The old man made a show of clearing his throat. “Now, here is how it begins.”
~
Venil Orlin was an exile who made his living doing odd jobs for the Relnak in the city of Solara. Despite his status as a scavenger of the wastes, Venil commanded a certain amount of respect from the Relnak. He once was a warrior who lived within Idastil’s walls, defending and protecting the city with his very life. His skills were well recognized as a result and thus, he was often called upon to perform jobs for the Relnak that were deemed unfit, or beneath the city’s esteemed warriors. Venil specialized in jobs that called for trips outside the city. Much like this one.
The Relnak often moved their Sensers from one city to the next like living chess pieces. There were several reasons for this. Chief among them was the fact that each Senser had differing mental abilities and those various abilities might be more in need in one city than another. This is why Venil had been tasked with ferrying the young girl, Kelsey, from the city of Idastil to Solara. Naturally, he was being paid to do so, for a scavenger had to make a living somehow.
Venil turned to Jade, the female initiate of the priesthood in Idastil who accompanied the girl. It seemed the Senser was too important to trust to the singular care of one such as himself. The Idastil priesthood had insisted the woman join them in their trek. “We must be extra cautious,” he warned her. “The Artemise roam this area freely.”
The initiate spat upon the ground at the mention of the wild women. “Can we not circumvent their lands?”
“They have no lands,” he explained. “They move from place to place, camping wherever is most convenient for their present purposes.” He knelt, studying the trail. Best to do so now, before they lost all of the day’s light. “Nomadic though they be, certain tribes of the Artemise seem to prefer this general area.”
“You must get us to Solara,” Jade told Venil. “The Artemise will do anything to possess Kelsey. Especially with the New Moon so near at hand.”
Venil looked to the girl and then back at Jade. “I am aware that her abilities are nullified during the New Moon, but she will remain safe with us during that time. The Artemise will present no more danger to us than usual.”
“I don’t think your employers provided you with all the particulars of this detail.”
Venil’s eyebrows scrunched up in vexation. “What do you mean?”
“In four day’s time, the New Moon fills the night sky.” Jade put her hands to her waist. “Aside from nullifying Kelsey’s telepathy, the moon also heralds an Artemise ritual, for which they require a virgin Senser.” She indicated Kelsey with an almost imperceptible tilt of her head.
“Why is this the first that I am hearing of this?”
“It is not common knowledge. This information is known only throughout the priesthood.”
“What, exactly?”
“You know all that is necessary for you to complete your task.”
Venil came to an abrupt halt. “Tell me, or I go no farther. You and the girl may fend for yourselves in this Artemise populated wilderness.”
The exile had never thought he would see an initiate pout, but that is exactly what happened next. Venil set his hands upon his hips and stood his ground.
“Fine.” Jade crossed her arms under her breasts. “The Artemise hold to a prophecy that states they will dominate the Relnak, destroying the cities in which they find refuge and spreading the Artemise religion among the masses like a viral plague. In order to fulfill this prophecy, they must sacrifice a virgin Relnak Senser during the New Moon.”
“I take it that when you say virgin, you are not referring to sex?”
“Correct. This will be Kelsey’s first New Moon since her abilities manifested. That makes her ripe for the plucking for this ritual sacrifice and is why we are moving her to the more secure city of Solara.”
“Wouldn’t it have been safer to keep her in Idastil until the New Moon had passed?”
“We believed it would be more dangerous for her to remain in Idastil. We recently ousted a Artemise spy who might have ferried the information back to the Artemise camp.”
“Wonderful,” remarked Venil. “We may have to renegotiate my fee.”
“Bring it up with the elders in the priesthood at Solara.”
Venil began moving once more, Jade and Kelsey following in his wake. With the additional information, he now felt ill prepared for the journey. Venil wished he had brought more weaponry than the all-purpose machete strapped to his back and the hunting knife in his boot. He would have to make do with the tools at hand.
The day had turned to night when Venil called a halt for rest and water and looked to the Priest. Jade seemed capable enough, but he was not sure how she would react in a fight. She stood as tall as his pectorals, and her brown hair trailed down to her shoulders. Someone had failed to warn her that long hair is a liability in a fight because it is easy to grab. Or perhaps that was not a real concern for her. The familiarity with which she carried the iron cudgel with a diamond-shaped head in one hand suggested that she did not allow anyone close enough to make such an attempt. Her azure robe trailed to her ankles, which connected to moccasin-shod feet.
Then he turned to the girl. Kelsey could not have seen more than 13 seasons. Her dark hair almost reached her shoulders and its color matched that of her almond eyes, which belied her age, making her seem much older. She never said a word and Venil had yet to see a smile form on the girl’s face. It was kind of creepy.
I am not creepy, she thought at him. And when I have something to smile about, I will.
Venil rolled his eyes and sighed. He had let the girl’s telepathy slip his mind. He crouched so that the two of them were at eye level. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It is just that I am unaccustomed to communicating in any way other than talking.”
The girl smiled at him. That’s okay. It took some getting used to for me, too. And I am still learning.
“You wear a smile well,” he told Kelsey. “You should do so more often.”
Jade interrupted the pair’s bonding moment. “What is that?”
Venil looked to where the initiate was pointing. East of them, an orange light was cresting a hill. The flame of torch light bobbed through the night. A second later it was joined by two more. “Take cover,” he commanded.
“Who is it?” asked Jade.
“I don’t know, but this far out in the wasteland it has to be either the Artemise or scavengers.” He pulled the machete from its sheath upon his back. “Either way, it would be best if we avoid confrontation. Try not to draw their attention, but be prepared. Hopefully they will pass us by.”
The three sheltered behind a bramble of wild bushes and waited to see what fate had in store for them this eve. Venil clutched his machete in a loose grip, ready to spring into action should the need arise. Next to him, he saw that Jade also held her mace at the ready, though she gripped its haft so tight that her knuckles were beginning to turn white. He shook his head in disgust. Obviously his earlier appraisal of Jade’s abilities was off the mark. Either she had no battle training or she was untested outside training grounds. If not for the presence of the approaching mystery group, he would already be in the midst of lecturing the woman about proper weapon handling.
As the torch bearing group neared, Venil saw they were indeed, Artemise. The six women, half of them carrying burning torches, moved with a single-minded purpose. They wore short breech cloths and a similar covering over their brea
sts, though the only other clothing they wore was the moccasins that housed their feet. They passed Venil, Jade and Kelsey’s hiding place, hardly sparing a glance in their direction.
Once Venil had determined the wild women were far enough away, he turned to the others. “It is fortunate for us that they are heading in the opposite direction we are traveling.”
Jade nodded to the man. “And we are lucky they were in such a hurry. If they had given their surroundings more than a cursory glance, they would have discovered us.”
“Agreed.” Venil returned his machete to its sheath upon his back. “We should go. If not for that near encounter, I would suggest we set up camp here, but now I think we should put some more distance between us and them before we make camp.”
“What are we waiting for?”
Venil nodded and led them away from that place.
~
When they reached the agreed upon meeting place, Syntara called a halt to the search party. “We wait here.”
Mallorie, Syntara’s second-in-command, paced back and forth. “We should be searching for the prophesied virgin. We have only five days before the full moon.”
Syntara sent a hand slicing through the air. “I’ll hear none of that. We wait.”
The group of women did not wait long. A diminutive figure soon detached itself from the shadows and approached the leader of the Artemise group. “Well met, Syntara.”
“Well met, Rochaulle. What news have you for us?”
The petite woman, cloaked in robes the color of the shadows, nodded to Syntara and spoke in a firm, yet feminine voice. “The child heads to Solara. She is accompanied by an initiate of the priesthood and a former warrior turned mercenary.”
“Well done, Rochaulle. I shall report your dutiful aid to your superiors. Pray continue to provide us with the excellent information you have thus far gathered.”
“There is one other thing,” Rochaulle ventured.
One of Syntara’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? What is that?”
“Tuilesse was discovered,” she reported. “She was fortunate enough to escape Idastil with her life, but she will no longer be able to provide you with information from the city. Perhaps her espionage skills would best be utilized in another location.”