Return

by Corrie Brundage

  “I actually don’t know much more than you do. You got as much information as I did.” That was a lie, but I wasn’t about to engage with a drunk Original. The man almost tripped over a tree root as he continued to back away from me, and I turned around to continue on the path. I could hear other people whisper in hushed tones about Lulu and me. But I didn’t care. The rain had begun to subside, and the sounds of construction were now reaching everyone. A slight hill rose above us, and we trekked over it, and below us lay the sprawling campsite. I inhaled sharply at the sight, but other people loudly exclaimed their surprise. Structures resembling crude houses I’d have seen in my first life greeted us, all made from the wood of the trees that had been chopped down. Obedience Officers and other people milled around the makeshift streets, which were just dirt roads. Raised platforms were interspersed with the houses, and men and women carried lumber and other materials to and fro. The scent of food wafted out from a structure resembling a huge cafeteria, and amazingly it appeared that there was actual plumbing in place, in all the buildings. How had they constructed this so quickly? I was in awe, and Lulu giggled with delight. Whatever was coming, whatever the Travelers were hoping to accomplish, I wondered for a moment if we humans wouldn’t be a fierce opponent. We might be less evolved, that was true. But if we’d accomplished this much in such a short amount of time, perhaps we were better prepared than I’d first thought.

  “Mommy, can we go find our own house now?” Lulu asked, and I nodded. Again leading the pack, I walked down the slope, and the rest of the crowd followed. A few trees remained standing in the clearing, and a low-flying bird swooped around the people gathering, as if scouting out this new invasion. An Obedience Officer appeared on one of the platforms. We all stopped to look at her, and when she spoke, her voice was amplified. Must be a microphone on her tunic, I thought.

  “I’m going to begin assigning groups of people to each unit. Once you’ve been given your assignment, please go to your unit and get settled in. We’ll be addressing you over the PA system that’s set up around the perimeter to let you know when dinner will be served in the mess hall.” People looked around, trying to locate the PA system, but it was either too small to be seen, or the technology was such that it blended in with the remaining trees. I didn’t doubt that they had something sophisticated set up, though.

  The Officer began rattling off names in alphabetical order, and I wondered if they’d be going by my last name or Jack’s. I thought perhaps mine, so I instructed Lulu to stay close. They’d get to “Brice” quickly. But an hour passed before my name was called, and Lulu had grown restless. She wanted to inspect every little thing that she could set her eyes on, and I had to struggle to keep her beside me at all times. She was rarely this amped, but I couldn’t blame her. It was truly a stimulating experience. The rest of the crowd was growing restless, too, setting up little makeshift camps while they waited for their assignments. A few fires had been started, and groups of Originals were sitting around them, sharing snacks constructed from food they’d brought and passing drinks around. Although they were clearly afraid and frustrated, they seemed to be making the most of the situation, and I felt a little better about our chances against the Travelers.

  After our name was called, I hustled Lulu up to the platform to the Officer, and she looked at us closely. I figured she was aware of who we were and so asked her about Jack.

  “My husband is … well, in the separate camps for, well, half-morphs. I was wondering when I’d be able to go see him?”

  “Ma’am, I have instructions to have you go see Councilman Gallach after dinner in the mess. He’ll be able to tell you about your, uh, husband. In the meantime, please go to unit number three four three seven.” And with that, she turned to call the next name. Was that number indicative of three thousand something? Were there really that many people here? I hurried Lulu along down the platform and toward the housing units. They were indeed numbered, but we’d have to walk a ways before reaching ours. Originals were already settling into their units, and some of them were sitting on their steps and porches, watching what was going on around them closely. I smelled rain in the air again and herded Lulu along the dirt path to the unit with the proper number on it. Her hair was starting to dry, and I didn’t want it to get wet again. I passed a hand over my face, longing for a luxurious bath and an exfoliation session, knowing I’d not get one for days, or maybe ever again …

  Lulu clopped up the steps and opened the wooden door. It was odd, not being able to order one open, I thought. We were truly roughing it, and I allowed myself a slight smirk at the absurdity of it all.

  “Mommy, there’s a kitchen in here, and beds!” came Lulu’s excited cry, and following her inside, I saw she was right. The front of the interior of the house was entirely open and visible to the entrance, the second floor constructed like a loft or perch. I figured this sparsity of construction had been an attempt to spare building materials.

  The tones of my communicator went off just then, and I urged Lulu to sit down on one of the wooden chairs that were lined up alongside a small table. I answered the call, and saw the three faces of my team crammed into the space of the screen, all of them looking somber.

  “Which camp are you guys in?” Marilyn asked. I was relieved to hear her sounding relatively chirpy.

  I told her which train station we had come from, hoping that would give them some sense.

  “That’s several miles away from us. People are pouring in in droves. How they’re going to keep everything organized is beyond me.” This from Nick, who kept looking around his surroundings in disbelief. Elizabeth stayed silent, her eyes grave. I wished I could reach through the screen and hug her, but she was never big on physical affection.

  “How’s Lulu holding up? And are you going to be talking to Rory soon?” Marilyn again, and I nodded to both questions.

  “Lulu seems to be enjoying herself.” I looked to where she was climbing onto one of the beds, and realized we’d be having roommates. There were six beds, three of them situated on the second floor of the cabin. I dreaded any interaction with fearful Originals.

  “I’m meeting with Rory after dinner in the mess hall. Jack is being kept at a separate camp, but no one is telling me where just yet. I guess they’ve got security concerns, but I need to see him.” My voice hitched on that last sentence, and I saw my team grow sympathetic.

  “Let us know what he says, and if you get to see Jack,” Nick said. “They’re going to call dinner soon, so we better go. We need to follow orders around here, it’s like a military barracks.” He was right. If this all played out like I thought it would, every one of us were soldiers. I logged off with them, wishing they were here and had been assigned as our roommates. I sat down on one of the chairs, instantly missing the body-conforming couch in our condo. These were quickly constructed wooden creations, and uncomfortable, but I tried to keep a smile on my face for Lulu’s sake. She was delighted with the sparse furnishings, although the beds were covered with special thermal blankets that would probably feel luxurious. There were old-fashioned glass windows that we could look out of, and so I sat beside Lulu awaiting the arrival of our bunkmates. I heard their voices before I saw all four of them approach, so I stood up in anticipation of their arrival and Lulu followed suit. We were standing at attention when they clattered up the steps and into the kitchen area. My hand was resting on the stove, and I’d barely noticed the ancient contraption but now felt like it was my rock. I pasted another smile to my face, and mimicking me, Lulu grinned a sharky smile that showed all her teeth. Her expression would have been humorous under other circumstances.

  Two women, a boy several years older than Lulu, and a hunched, portly, and limping man entered the room. They stopped short when they saw us. I suppose we were a bit of a surprise, so I rushed forward to greet them. Lulu was glued to my side, her gaze intent on the little boy.

  “I’m Mina, this is Lulu, and it looks like we’ll be sharing this … house?
I don’t know if you know who we are, but I want to assure you all that we’re just like you, and I swear we don’t know anything more than you do about why we’re here, and I hope we can all just get along.” I stopped, breathless after this hasty soliloquy. Their faces were startled, but I noticed the man looked amused. His lopsided eyes and pugnacious nose were thrust forward in Lulu’s direction, and he seemed to find her particularly fascinating. I was feeling ashamed of how socially awkward I still was, and how no matter the situation I always seemed to never find the right thing to say, when one of the women spoke up. Her long brown hair was coiled in a braid down her back, and a light pattern of crow’s feet surrounded her friendly brown eyes.

  “Hi. I’m Annie. This is my wife, Isabelle, and our son, Tyler. And this gentleman is Dr. MacKenzie.” She extended a hand to me, and I was quick to take it, relieved at her kindness. The man she had introduced as Dr. MacKenzie was crouching down to meet Lulu eye to eye, and I sensed he knew she was a child of two clones, but nothing in his demeanor suggested cruelty.

  Isabelle stood apart from the rest of us, her eyes wary. She had close-cropped black hair and the square shoulders of an athlete, and she kept a protective hand on Tyler’s shoulder. But he was beginning to squirm away, wanting to explore his new digs. He held a computer, the small square fitting into the palm of his hand, and Lulu, with the aplomb of a Miss America contestant, asked, “Hey, you wanna play a game on that? We can go on my bed, I’m taking one of the ones on the second floor.” And with that, the two children scooted away from the adults, leaving Dr. MacKenzie gazing after them with a fondness I found comforting.

  “We should put our bags down by our beds,” said Isabelle, her first words since entering the house. Annie nodded, as if intuiting that her partner was too tense to participate in further conversation. She smiled at me once more, and they mounted the rickety steps to the second floor, the stairs open and exposed to the rest of the cabin. That left Dr. MacKenzie and me alone, and I shifted uncomfortably under his direct gaze. He had a tuft of graying hair atop his oddly misshapen head, but again, I didn’t sense any cruelty in him, just curiosity. Then he spoke, and the pieces fell into place.

  “I’m a clone, too. From Four. I got out of Pacifica before the bomb was detonated. I came here because I’d heard all about what happened here five years ago. Seemed as good a place as any to visit, eh.”

  My shock must have been visible, because he threw his lumpy head back and guffawed. He was a clone but he wasn’t morphing? I had not met another clone who was free of the genetic mutation that had been inflicted on almost all of us. The Director had explained why I’d been spared, owing it to my telepathic ability as well as to wanting me to act as a liaison to the Eaters. She’d implied that some other clones had been spared, too, but in all my years in Origin, I had yet to meet another like me.

  “How … I mean, why … aren’t you a half-morph, too?” I hoped this wasn’t too personal a question. My own telepathic ability was still something I guarded carefully, although Eva now knew, along with my family.

  “Call me Mack, by the way. And I’ve only met a couple other clones who don’t morph. You’re my third, actually. I guess we’re pretty rare, so all the more reason to stick together, eh?” He chuckled again, and then reached into his bag to pull out a can of nuts. He began munching on them, totally oblivious to my consternation. I wanted to reach out and inspect him, yet all this seemed very mundane to him. I wondered if he was spared the genetic mutation of becoming an Eater because he had a special ability the Travelers had wanted to preserve, like me. I eyed him closely, but he didn’t appear to be harboring any secret power.

  “So, Mina, tell me a little bit about you and your daughter there, eh?” He looked up toward the second floor, where childish giggles were bubbling over and down to our floor. Lulu had made a new friend, and I felt some relief at this welcome development. Mack ambled over to a chair at the rough table, and arranged his pudgy, uneven limbs into a seated position. He was still staring at me openly, which made me feel uncomfortable, so I decided to sit down in an effort to minimize my presence.

  “Well, I’ve been living in Origin for over five years, obviously. My husband is a clone too, and he … well, he morphs. And he’s being held in a separate camp, and I really just need to go to him and see if he’s ok. I have no idea what the Travelers want, but being here at this camp doesn’t bode well for any of us. Lulu, my daughter, is pretty special, but she’s had to deal with some bigotry in her young life. I can’t protect her from all of it, although I wish I could …” I trailed off after this, and Mack’s eyes had grown soft and sympathetic.

  “On Four, I was pretty much an outcast, too. After the other clones started morphing, the first time, that is, well, it was hard to continue with my work. I was chosen for cloning because of my work in physics. Normally a clone works with something here on Earth, but I guess they wanted space-literate folks, too. Anyway, my original life was quite a while before yours, I’m sure. I first died back in the 1930s. I’ve had a lot to catch up on in physics since then … but I knew Einstein. Strange man, but not as strange as me, eh.” He laughed again at this, and I relaxed at his easy storytelling. He had no qualms about being free with himself, and didn’t seem to care what the world thought of him. I had always admired that trait in other scientists, but in Mack it was even more apparent.

  I stayed silent as he regaled me with his tale, absorbing all he had told me, and I was tracing a pattern in the wood when the announcement for dinner came over the PA system. It jolted me, and everyone else on the second floor grew silent, too.

  “All Originals please come to the mess hall for the evening meal.” It was a woman’s voice, and it boomed throughout the sprawling makeshift village. I looked at Mack, who was smiling again. I got the feeling he looked forward to eating, which was probably true for all clones. My own stomach was rumbling, and although I doubted the food would be good, it was necessary to keep our strength up. I rose, and called for Lulu to come down. All six of us stood in the living room area, if that’s what it could be called, and waited for one of us to make the first move to leave the house and go toward the huge cafeteria. I had grown tired of leading other people on our trek into the camps and so decided it wasn’t my duty for this particular mission. But Mack was far too eager, so he hauled himself up and clomped toward the door, calling for all of us to follow him, he knew the way. I smiled, and my hand found Lulu’s.

  Our conversation was light as we joined a heavy stream of people making their way to the mess hall. People still looked confused and scared, but the tradition of an evening meal seemed to allay some of their fears. Bands of people had formed, likely of neighbors and friends who had found each other. My own little group stayed close together, with Mack leading the way. He had a hitch to his walk but seemed to overcome it with an odd sort of grace. Annie kept her head close to Isabelle’s, and Tyler skipped along beside Lulu, who pointed out a smattering of wildlife that had remained after all the construction had taken most of their home. We arrived at the cafeteria, which looked as if it could accommodate thousands of people, and I saw that it likely would. The stream of people had become a deluge, and lines began forming in front of Obedience Officers who were doling out steaming heaps of what looked like spaghetti. I was sure it would be hours before we got served, but the lines moved rapidly. They truly had organized things efficiently, and my stomach was grateful. Our group got trays of food, which didn’t smell half bad, and found some empty chairs at a long table. Other Originals were already digging in, so we followed suit. Lulu ate her food without complaint, but Tyler seemed a bit put out that his mothers weren’t serving him something more appetizing. I tried to tune my keen ears into the conversations of the other people sitting near us, but mostly it was speculation about when we’d be addressed by someone in charge as to what would happen next. I kept my communicator in front of me in case Rory called me again. But I didn’t need to, because several moments later, after we were
almost done with our meals, an Obedience Officer mounted one of the platforms out in the clearing, and speaking into whatever microphone was hooked up, announced that Rory himself would be addressing our camp. He would also be broadcast to all the others. People began to look around at each other in surprise. It was rare that a Council member spoke in public, as they preferred to make their announcements on the news, and I saw Mack grow curious once more.

  Rory mounted the steps to the platform, several Obedience Officers surrounding him like a Secret Service retinue I’d seen in my first life, the kind that protected politicians on their junkets. He stood with his feet firmly planted on the wooden slats, his fists lumped up on his hips. He projected such power, no one would mess with him; the guards weren’t necessary.

  “Listen up, all ye Originals. Ye’re all wondering what’s going on here, and we’ll make that clear as time goes on. For now, ye’ll all need to return to yer shelters, and get a good night’s sleep. In the morning, we’ll be instructing all of ye on how to handle the weapons we’ll be passing out. It will be of the utmost importance that every Original learn how to manage these machines, even yer children. I’ll tell ye this, the Travelers are approaching Earth’s orbit and will be here soon. We know from past experience with them that although they’re an advanced race, they’re also a bloodthirsty lot. It may seem foolish for them to engage directly in battle, but we have concluded that they enjoy the thrill of battle. Why else come all this way to look us in the eye?” His explanation of why the Travelers were returning to Earth and not merely sending some kind of remote-controlled death ray had riled him up. His cheeks beneath his beard were flushed an angry red and his spine was rigid. He took a moment to compose himself, then finished with, “We’ll all need to be prepared for whatever they’ve got in mind.”