Proxy

by R. D. Brady

  He wondered when exactly that had been and who the Unwelcome had been before they had become the slaves of the Naku.

  Had they lived a free life? Did they live and love and fight amongst themselves? In many ways, Arthur was no different than any other human. He had emotions and laughed. He craved social contact. But the Naku seemed to have none of those qualities.

  Exhaustion rolled over Miles as he thought about what his future held at the hands of the Naku. And for a moment, he thought that maybe he should just give in. Maybe he should give the Naku access to his mind. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could put up with this cycle of pain and healing and then more pain again. He had been speaking with his guards faithfully since he’d decided on that course of action. Each time they brought him back to his cell, he told them stories about himself, people he knew, human history.

  Yet while they had said a few words to him, none had shown any inkling that they were thinking of revolting against the Naku. And if they were thinking about it, Miles wasn’t part of their plans. He was well and truly on his own up here. And like Arthur, he craved just a small sign that someone, somewhere, was concerned about him.

  He opened his eyes. The gel-like substance kept him suspended in the tank. This time he didn’t see Anixquold in the adjoining tank. But then again, she hadn’t been wounded as badly as he had.

  There were two Naku at the end of the room. And unlike most times, there were a dozen Unwelcome in the room with him. One had been placed right outside his cylinder, its back toward him.

  The Naku must have realized he was awake. One of them made its way over to him. They glanced at the readouts on his monitor then made some notations on the tablet they held before walking back to the other side of the room. Inputting a few more notes on a console in front of them, the two Naku quickly left the room.

  If Miles didn’t know any better, he’d think they were scared of him. He let himself take a small moment to enjoy that idea.

  The Unwelcome guarding his cylinder glanced back at him. Miles couldn’t read the number of the uniform or see anything helpful with that small glance, so he had no idea how to interpret it.

  It was probably nothing. A mere shift in stance. He closed his eyes. He was looking for meaning where there was none.

  A small sound worked its way through the gel. Miles frowned, opening his eyes.

  The Unwelcome stood in the same position, its back still to Miles. But its finger was tapping on the glass. The Unwelcome nodded at the other guard across the room. The guard shifted until it was standing in front of the door, its back to Miles. If anyone entered the room, they would only be able to see the Unwelcome until it moved.

  The Unwelcome guarding him turned around.

  Miles squinted and could just make out the 17 on the Unwelcome’s chest. 17-H held up its hand and pressed it against the glass. For a moment, Miles felt like his heart was going to stop. But then he raised his own hand and held it to 17-H’s.

  17-H nodded to him and then glanced quickly over his shoulder, resuming his position. The Unwelcome across the room also resumed his position, just as the doors slid open and the Naku and their guards returned.

  The Naku crossed the room, tapping on the monitor. Against his will, Miles’s eyes closed, exhaustion falling over him like a shroud. But as he closed his eyes, he had one last thought.

  I’m not alone.

  67

  After Addie went up to bed, Lyla found a dark, quiet corner of the veranda to sit. She needed a little time alone, a chance to catch her breath and pull her thoughts together.

  It all came down to tomorrow. Their forces would start leaving before dawn, their departures scattered throughout the day. The last people would fly down in the veerfinahs, arriving just before the attack would begin. They had to leave that to the very last minute. There was too great a chance of the veerfinah being detected. So Lyla would go along with the majority of their troops and get everyone into position well before the veerfinahs arrived.

  The plan was good. She knew that. The reality was they were facing overwhelming odds, so the chance of them being successful was low. It had always been low, but she felt optimistic of at least doing a great deal of damage to the Naku.

  The one giant unknown in all of it was Miles. They still didn’t know if he was in the prison cell that one of their new recruits had suggested. But as soon as the mothership touched down, Lyla would be boarding and going through everyone and everything to find out if that was in fact where he was.

  She had no idea what kind of resistance she would face. Hopefully most of the Unwelcome would simply refuse to fight, take the chance to escape, and just leave. But she knew she could not count on that. The Naku would control some of them and force them to fight. She hated the idea of hurting someone who was being used as a puppet, but she also knew that if push came to shove, she would do what was necessary to keep herself and her people safe.

  For the last few days, her mind had been taken up by plans, by organizing, and by rallying the troops to understand the importance of the battle to come. She’d been grateful for the distraction because it meant she didn’t have much time to let her fear for Miles take root. She’d shoved all her concerns and fears to the back corner of her mind while she focused on the practical matters of getting everything in place.

  But now everything was in place. There were a few last-minute details that would have to be handled on the fly, but there was nothing more for them to prepare.

  Which meant there was nothing to distract her from her fear.

  She pictured Miles’s face when she’d first met him. She and Frank had discovered him. He’d been eleven years old but small for his age. It was hard to reconcile that small little boy with the muscular man she knew.

  Inside, though, his heart was the same. His enthusiasm for life was the same. His willingness to help anyone or anything remained unchanged through the years. He was the reason they now had a chance of defeating the Naku. That enthusiasm, that trust in people was what led him to reach out to Arthur. If they defeated the Naku today, Miles would be the reason why. And she prayed with everything she was worth that he would be there to see it.

  But who will he be when I see him again?

  That was the thought that now kept running through her mind. And even though she worried about that, it was the other worry that was foremost in her mind tonight.

  What if he is already gone? What if he has been gone all this time?

  She took a deep breath, shutting out the mental torture. She would know tomorrow, one way or another. There was no sense in beating herself up with images now.

  Riley had taken the girls up to sleep hours ago. Petra, along with Gasira, was bunking in with Emma and Edna for the night. Everyone was spending time with their families, a reminder of what they were fighting for.

  Lyla glanced up at the moon. The man in the moon, where their ability to resist had all begun. When her father had said that the man in the moon was looking out for them, she’d thought there was an actual face in the moon that she could see.

  As she’d grown older, she’d figured it was just his way of making her feel safe. But now she knew her father was actually telling her the truth. He was giving her a message to let her know that one day, she would be able to resist.

  Right now she felt her father’s presence. She felt his strength. In her mind, she saw his smile, the determination in his eyes, whenever he faced a challenge. And she felt Muriel as well. The two of them had been closer than sisters. Losing her had been one of the hardest things Lyla had ever done.

  And now I might have to accept losing Miles as well.

  She swallowed hard at the thought. She pulled her arms tighter around herself as if it could ward off the chill spreading through her. She had never really thought about having children. Lyla had only been twenty-three when Muriel died, and Lyla had never had a serious relationship with anyone.

  After Muriel, she’d had Riley to take care of, and shortly there
after Maisy, and then Miles. She’d gone from not even imagining having a family to having three children that she was responsible for. And although she had never planned on any of them entering her life, she couldn’t imagine her life any other way now.

  The idea of them being hurt, it tore something up inside of her. She was worried about how Miles would be if they managed to get him back tomorrow, but that wasn’t her only worry. Maisy, Riley, herself, and Miles—they were a team. They were one unit. No matter what happened, they had each other.

  And Lyla wasn’t sure how any of them would recover from the loss of Miles. Truth was, he wasn’t the only one they had to worry about. Riley would be in the thick of things tomorrow, and so would Lyla. Nothing was guaranteed. Any one of them could fall. So Lyla worried about those who would be left behind, how they would manage to pick up the pieces and move on.

  And she knew without a doubt that whoever was still standing after the battle would be a different person than when the battle had begun.

  68

  It sounded like running water. Miles frowned, trying to remember where he was. The sound reminded him of a river that had been swollen by winter snows and the following meltdown. He opened his eyes. The gel-like water lapped along his face as he floated in the cylinder.

  The gel only reached his shoulders now and was slowly draining through the bottom of the cylinder. Someone had removed the tubes that were attached to his nose, and he felt the burning sensation along his throat telling him the tube there had also been pulled.

  The gel left a wavy residue on the edge of the cylinder, distorting the figures beyond it. But from the size and dark colors of the individuals on the other side of the room, he knew at least four Unwelcome were in the room with him.

  A smaller figure stood with them, completely still. Even with the distorted glass, he could feel the Naku’s focus on him. He felt the familiar pressure along the edges of his mind.

  He forced the intrusion out, biting his lip, the pain helping him keep his focus even as his head pounded.

  The gel reached his knees. Miles stumbled, falling to the side of the cylinder. His feet could touch the bottom of cylinder now, and he held himself up, his knees feeling weak. Once all the liquid was removed from the container, a small hissing sounded. He licked his cracked lips, his tongue feeling like sandpaper. The edge of his tongue burned slightly from where it touched the gel.

  He jerked his head up, noticing movement, and the Naku stepped out of the room. Two Unwelcome opened the door on the back of the cylinder and motioned for Miles to step toward them.

  He didn’t remember doing this before. He must’ve been unconscious the last few times they had removed him from the healing cylinder. It was awkward to climb out. And all things considered, he wished he was unconscious for this removal as well.

  He got one foot on the floor, but as he pulled his other foot behind him, it got caught on the edge of the cylinder, and he toppled forward. The Unwelcome next to him grabbed his arm, keeping him up right.

  Without thinking, he said, “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Miles’s gaze shot to the Unwelcome’s helmet, but of course with the helmet in place, he could see nothing. His gaze dropped down to the Unwelcome’s chest. 17-H. He wanted to ask how Anixquold was. He wanted to know how long he’d been in the cylinder. At the same time, he was too tired to manage the words. The thoughts practically disappeared from his mind as soon as he had them.

  The other Unwelcome grabbed his other arm, and together the two of them helped him toward a door in the back corner of the lab. It slid open silently as they approached. Miles paused in front of it.

  17-H gestured toward it. “It’s all right. It will clean you. You won’t be harmed.”

  Miles stared hard at 17-H, trying to decide if he was telling him the truth.

  “You need to hurry. The Naku want you back in your cell soon.”

  Miles had turned to stare at the other Unwelcome who had spoken now. 41-G. Miles nodded, stepping in.

  As the door slid shut, he had a moment of fear, wondering if they had lied to him. If this was the last step, if whatever was going to come out of the nozzles lining the cylinder was going to be the end of him.

  Before he could think any more on it, a gel-like water fell over him. He tensed, waiting for the pain, but there was none. This substance was a little softer than the suspension gel, closer in texture to water. He opened his mouth, sighing in relief at the first swallow. The substance rinsed off the remaining gel clinging to him. Too soon, the water stopped. He shut his mouth just before a foamy soap was distributed across his body, followed by another rinsing.

  At the end, he felt better, cleaner.

  The door at the back of the cylinder slid open, and he stepped out. He was on a conveyor belt. For a moment, he wondered why a conveyor belt rather than just a hallway, but then he realized he must’ve been lying on this conveyor belt in previous visits to the lab when he had been unconscious.

  Warm air blew on him. The conveyor belt stopped at the end. 17-H and 41-G were waiting for him. On the bench in front of them was a new set of clothes. Miles stepped off the conveyor belt and quickly dressed. He might not have anything good to say about the Naku, but their clothes were exceedingly soft.

  Miles tightened the drawstring around his waist. “Now what?”

  “Now we return you to your cell.” 41-G waved his bracelet over the scanner by the door. It slid open.

  Miles sighed. He didn’t know what he expected. His guards were speaking with him, and for a moment, he had felt like his old self. He felt like he had friends. But they weren’t his friends. He wasn’t sure who they were, really. They probably weren’t sure, either.

  But he couldn’t delude himself. He had attacked the Esteemed Leader. He was sure whatever was planned now would be a million times worse than what he had already been through.

  He wasn’t even sure what he remembered about 17-H while he was in the cylinder. Right now, he was as quiet as he usually was.

  I must have imagined it.

  He’d been treating these guys like they were Arthur.

  But they weren’t Arthur. Without his exposure to human literature, maybe it was too much to expect them to want to turn against the Naku. It was all they’d known for years. And they didn’t know there was anything better out there.

  All his stories, all his attempts to show them this world was more than what they knew, it was for nothing.

  All of a sudden, his limbs felt even heavier. But he didn’t say anything.

  In silence, he followed them down the hall.

  They turned along the main corridor. They didn’t pass anyone. Miles was too tired to wonder why.

  41-G opened the door leading to the prison ward. Miles followed him in, not even glancing at the other cells. He stopped at his usual cell, but 41-G continued down the hall. Miles glanced at his cell for a moment before he followed 41-G, expecting the worst.

  41-G stopped at the cell fifth from the end. He waved his bracelet over the control panel, and once again the door slid open. Miles stepped in, scanning the space.

  It looked similar to the other cell. It had the same walls, flooring, and ceiling. Thankfully the only lights on were in the ceiling and those emitted a soft, white light. The cot, though, looked a little softer and there was a blanket. He turned to 17-H, raising his eyebrows.

  17-H shrugged. “They didn’t specify which cell you were to be placed in. This one seems as good as any other.” 17-H stepped out of the cell, and then the door slid shut.

  Suddenly exhausted, Miles stumbled over to the cot. He nearly cried at how soft the mattress felt. And there was even a pillow. He curled up on the cot, pulling the blanket over himself with a sigh. In the cleaning cylinder, he’d noticed that his wounds had healed, but inside he still ached.

  He lay his head down and pulled the blanket over him. His body went limp.

  He sighed. For the first time since he’d been tak
en, he actually felt comfortable. And then he noticed a sound coming from the other side of the glass wall.

  His cot was right next to it. If he reached out, he would be able to touch it. 17-H was standing right there with his back to Miles. And although his voice was low, Miles could hear him clearly.

  “My name is Dexender. I … I used to go by Dexender. I don’t remember my family. But I had a friend once. His name was Gaxdrill. We met on the planet where all of the children are placed to see who is lucky enough to get into the training. Gaxdrill and I helped each other, and we survived.”

  Miles closed his eyes and smiled, listening as Dexender told him stories of him and his friend and how they had survived together.

  69

  The groups began the trip early that morning, starting at dawn. Lyla oversaw each group’s departure. Each group held between eight and twelve people. They would all take slightly varied routes to New City. Smaller groups would be easier to hide if they ran into trouble and would draw less attention.

  By late afternoon, all of the groups that would be traveling on foot had left, save Lyla’s. As they rode out of the gate, she couldn’t help but picture Riley as he’d ridden out with the first group. She knew that Riley was well trained. She knew that he knew what he was doing. But she still had little bursts of terror when she thought of him going into New City. She figured that was just the role of a mom. There was never going to be a day when she didn’t worry about her kids.

  They did catch one small break: The Unwelcome children who were in training had been sent off the mothership to a surface location. Once the mission at New City was completed, they’d see about rescuing those kids. Hopefully, if the Naku were defeated, whatever guards were at the facility would look after the children until they arrived.

  They had been riding for an hour now. They were at the base of the mountain. Lyla glanced over her shoulder. Her group included Arthur, Addie, Jamal, Lewis, two men from Meg’s camp, and Oscar. Oscar had been a late addition. He had shown up just as they were about to leave.