Awakening
Page 23
*
An hour later Barsch came upon a small pool, most likely fed by the stream he had seen upon leaving the Station. He almost collapsed at the sight, and had to hold onto a nearby boulder for support. After recovering somewhat, he made his way down to the nearly circular body of water. Aside from a strange, white stick near the water’s edge, the pool was rather boring. The surface of the pool was covered in grime, but through patches here and there Barsch could see that the water was drinkable.
Reaching into his rucksack, he rummaged around for a time before pulling out a large canister. It was a rudimentary water filter, another present from Kingston and a relic from an age long past. Setting the device down, he began scooping water into the inlet, where it would be processed and strained by nine separate filters. The end result was still polluted and rather toxic, but at least it would not kill him outright.
As he waited for the water to filter, Barsch’s mind drifted back to his youth. In those days, before the cryogenesis plan had been announced, before the planet had become uninhabitable, he had travelled across the land with his father. Of course, it had not been easy, moving from one town to the next in a moving convoy, but it had been fun in a way. Every week would be a new place, a new opportunity to learn. Friends had been fleeting, as families joined and left the convoy with equal speed. Still, Barsch had learned to make friends quickly, and close off his heart when they left. Unlike most boys his age, Barsch only lost three friends to sickness, and one in a terrible accident, while those he had met told him of entire villages disappearing overnight.
He could still remember the day the announcement had been made. Cryogenesis, the last great act of humanity to save itself from extinction, and a way to undo all the damage they had done. It had seemed so simple back then, so… easy.
Gather at the Stations, step into a pod, sleep for a few hundred years, and then everything would be back to the way it was supposed to be. No effort required. No pain, no suffering, how could they say no?
Upon arriving at the Stations, they had been herded into a waiting area, where they were poked and prodded, tested and treated, until they had cried out in anger. The scientists, men and women in filthy lab coats and covered in grime, had then appeared, calling out their names one by one. Each person was sorted by a dozen different factors, and assigned pods seemingly at random.
Husbands were taken from wives, fathers were taken from sons, and lovers were wrenched apart. They had corralled them into the waiting pods, stuffing them inside without so much as an apology. If they had not been trying to save them, Barsch was sure that there would have been a riot. But the people were desperate, and so complied without question.
And then began the wait, the terrible, gut-wrenching wait. Barsch had lain in his pod, strapped and restrained, only able to watch as the last of the people were called. Eventually, even the scientists were placed, trapped inside their own creations, as the Station’s artificial intelligence waited for the signal. At precisely 12PM, the Worldwide Activation Code was uploaded to the global network, and, moments later, every human on the planet had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep, leaving the world to the beasts and re-mechs.
Looking down from his reverie, Barsch saw that the water had finished purifying. Cautiously he took a sip, ready to spit it out if it tasted too toxic. But the filter had done its job well, and, aside from a slightly bitter aftertaste, the water was almost normal. He drank greedily, stopping only to eat some of the lunch Kingston had made him. It was still a few miles to the Station’s main entrance, and he wanted to have enough daylight left by the time he arrived to see it.
A sudden bird-shriek brought Barsch’s eyes up, just in time to see a long, white creature dart towards him. With a shocked cry Barsch leapt backwards, narrowly avoiding the creature’s ferocious lunge.
Focusing his eyes, he saw that what he had thought was a white stick was actually a Bile Seeker, a dangerous snake well known for its deadly poison. Had he been bitten, he would have died in agony a few minutes later, completely unaware of what had killed him. His chest heaved when he thought this, shocked at how close he had come to death. But, even with the snake in his sights, his survival was not guaranteed. In his youth, he had tales of Bile Seekers taking down entire families, darting from one man to the next with an unbelievable speed, and striking wherever open flesh was found.
The Bile Seeker began to slither forward, hunger most likely giving it a reckless courage. This creature had grown up in a world without humans, and so it knew nothing about avoiding them in favour of easier prey. It struck again, launching itself from the blackened grass with astonishing speed.
Again, Barsch leapt back, only barely avoiding its neurotoxin filled fangs. He had no time to think, -to plan his escape- he could only react. A sudden thud made him turn around. His boot had stuck the boulder, which meant that he was trapped between the rock and the snake. However, in a stroke of luck, he saw something that could save him. There, tucked away down the side of his boot, was Kingston’s knife. If he could only reach it…
But the Bile Seeker was in no mood to wait, its prey having eluded it for far too long. It struck for the last time, moving faster than ever before. And there, it should have ended. Barsch, having only average reactions at best and a novice with the blade, should have died, slain by the snake’s death-dealing fangs.
But Fate had other plans for him, and let him know this with another bout of birdsong. The melodious sound brought Barsch back to reality, stripping him of his fear and reminding him of why he could not fall there. Kingston had saved his life, and how could he repay him if he died here?
The Bile Seeker was already in mid-air when he finally moved, reaching down with his right hand to clasp the ebony handle of the knife. With only seconds to spare, he brought the blade up, hoping that he would make it in time. Time seemed to slow as the Bile Seeker grew closer, a slave to momentum. The ivory-toned snake slammed into the sharpened blade, slicing it perfectly down the middle. As quickly as it had started, the fight was over, leaving Barsch shaking from the shock. He stood there, motionless, for the next few minutes, as his brain frantically tried to catch him up on what had happened.
Only then did he finally notice something else out of the ordinary. Looking up, he spotted his saviour, the thing which had warned him of the Bile Seeker’s attack: a bluejoy. It tweeted when he saw it, looking very proud, if Barsch had any say. From its dark blue coat to its pitch, it was identical to the one he had seen in Kingston’s bedroom. Had it followed him all the way? Was that even possible?
“Thank you,” he said, as it flew off in the direction of Kingston’s hut. A sudden bout of coughing reminded him to hurry, so he picked up his things, retied his gasmask and left the pool.