The kupal closed behind them with a soft hiss. The automatic features were clearly still working so the fact her codes worked wasn’t some miraculous malfunction. The harsh light of Ardin’s sun beat on them again. The fiain forest wasn’t far and she almost ran for it.
A shadow flickered over them and she glanced up. In the same moment Kynaston bowled into her and knocked her to the ground. The ground spat up in huge clumps and she realised the shadow was a drone.
When the drone had finished its pass Kynaston dragged her to her feet and the two of them ran. But the drone was already coming around for a second go. They wouldn’t be able to get to the cover of the fiains before it finished its turn and hit them again.
Kynaston turned and held up his hand. What he expected to do she wasn’t sure but she couldn’t leave him to face the drone on his own. The drone veered to the side then made a sudden dive for the ground. At the last moment it tried to correct its trajectory but too late. Its wing clipped the ground and because of its speed it did a pinwheel spin over the ground. The wings broke off in pieces every time it hit the ground. Till it came to rest in a dark grey lump.
The guns whined as they tried to turn towards them. Sorcha pulled on Kynaston’s arm and he allowed her to pull him towards the fiains. The shade was a relief for more than one reason.
They looked up when they heard someone crashing through the fiains. Kynaston raised his hand and she wondered if he would do to them what he had done to the drone. But the mop of pale hair indicated that it was only Wynn.
He swore when he saw them. “I heard the gunfire. I knew it had to be you guys. Anyone hit?”
Sorcha shook her head but Kynaston nodded. Gulping she looked to him. He turned his shoulder. He had been grazed but the wound wasn’t too bad.
Wynn said, “We’ll fix that up in the rover.” Wynn guided them through the fiain to where he had parked. Sorcha shook with reaction. Seeing the blood on Kynaston’s shoulder made her realise how close she had come to dying. How close Kynaston had come to dying.
When Wynn brought out the first aid kit Sorcha sat in front of Kynaston. She took up his hands in her own.
Softly she said, “You can’t die on me.”
He wrinkled his nose. “It is just a graze.”
“Not this. I mean you can’t leave me.” His eyes softened. His hands tightened around her own and he brought them up to his lips and kissed each hand after the other.
He said gently, “I won’t”
Wynn asked, “How did it go? Did you find anything out?” Sorcha answered as Kynaston gritted his teeth as Wynn applied antiseptic liberally to the wound. “We found out that the Scribes are making an army. I know where they are.”
Kynaston brought his head up sharply. “You do?”
“Yeah, that’s what I was checking out in the room. There was a map.” She produced the flexi she had managed to take with her from the room with the babies. The map pointed to a city deeper into the fiains.
Kynaston turned to Wynn and the two shared a look. Kynaston eventually said, “Then we are going there. Maybe we can find out what the Scribes are really up to.”
Any other drones sent after them after they had escaped the city must have lost them in the fiains as they were able to sleep that night with no interruptions. When Kynaston made his bed next to Sorcha, Wynn didn’t make a comment.
When the vehicle broke down the next day near to their destination, he had sent them off ahead on their own while he planned to make repairs.
Kynaston asked, “Lead or follow.”
She asked as she took the lead, “Does that bother you?”
“Bother me. Oh, you mean the leading or following. No. I don’t need to walk in front of you to know I’m superior.”
When she glanced back in shock, she had to smile at the large grin he wore and the playful light in his eyes. She snorted at his teasing and turned to focus on her own task. The fiain was just as dense as the area around the science facility so it was lucky; they found another animal track. They walked in silence. Mostly because they were aware that they were out in the fiains and it wasn’t safe.
A rustling made them both stop. A mako cat slinked out of the underbrush. It wasn’t even trying to hide. It must have been aware that it had lost the surprise with the noise. It kept its eyes on them as it moved. Its body was mottled green. Better to hide in the foliage. Its tail whipped from side to side. It was prehensile so Kynaston didn’t dismiss it as merely a distraction. It sized them both up and then focused on Sorcha.
Kynaston said in a hushed whisper, “Go left when I say.”
She nodded her head slightly to indicate she had heard him. Kynaston moved slowly. The Mako cat turned its attention towards him the moment he moved.
Kynaston reached out his hand to direct his mental energies as he needed as much focus as he could get in the face of the man-eating beast they faced. The mako cat moved just before he could pick him up with his powers and pounced on him. Kynaston threw up his arms to protect his face through he probably should try to protect his vital organs instead.
Just before the mako cat made contact with him it jerked back. Hissed at Sorcha and ran off. Kynaston stared at Sorcha in confusion.
“What did you do?”
“They hate their tails being yanked. I read about it when I was looking at how to survive the fiains. Didn’t think I would ever need to use that information though. I was hoping you would have some super serenity powers up your sleeve to chase them away or I don’t know hide us away.”
They both turned when they heard someone softly clapping. Their eyes struggled to make out the boy that was sitting in a tree not far from them. He was wearing green clothes and was sitting in dappled light, so he was difficult to make out. He wasn’t very old, maybe fourteen or so. He was clearly a Warrior child with the dark hair and the dark eyes that matched.
He scrambled out of the tree with grace and loped towards them. He said, “Wow I’ve never seen someone do that. I’ve heard about it. It is a legend though. Not even Germaine has managed to get a mako cat to turn tail like that. He is the best hunter in the community.” He spoke faster as he got going into his own little speech. He bounced on his feet obviously excited about meeting them.
Kynaston was the first to gather himself and ask “Who are you?”
“Ah, I’m Jorg. I’m from the city.” He motioned in the distance in the general direction of where they thought the Warrior city was. With his looks and his age, he was probably one of the children created in the labs on Plato.
“City?” Kynaston asked.
“Yeah. Actually, where are you guys from? I thought there weren’t any Serenities alive. We were told you guys started a war that wiped out pretty much everyone but a few Scribes and us. That is why they need to grow us in batches again.”
Kynaston raised an eyebrow at the story that must have been told by the Scribes to keep them under control. It was clever. You wouldn’t go looking for other Warriors if you thought they were all dead.
Sorcha asked, “Can you take us with you? We have a man farther back with our vehicle that broke down.”
Jorg bounced his whole body instead of just his head and dashed past them. He quickly came back and waved an arm. “This way.”
Kynaston exchanged a glance with Sorcha and said, “I suppose we follow him.”
It was difficult to keep up with the fourteen-year-old. He seemed to jump from rocks and stumps so he didn’t have to push his way through the underbrush of the fiains. It meant he moved faster. But because they couldn’t replicate his movements, they were forced to take the slower route of using his Serenity powers to push aside the brush to make their way.
The city appeared suddenly as the fiain had hidden it from the view until the last possible moment. A Serenity wandering around could easily pass the city by only a few hundred meters and never know it was there.
It wasn’t very large. More like interconnected villages that were made up of smaller kupal
domes. Unlike the large ones that covered Jing City and the serenity city. The door to the city wasn’t even guarded and Jorg waved a hand to open the door. No codes needed. Either they were so sure that they would never be found or they were very trusting people. Something Kynaston would never have attributed to Warriors.
Maybe they were victims of hubris and thought anyone attacking would have to go through all the Warriors who lived here. On the other hand, they had been told there weren’t many others left on the planet. They probably didn’t need any guards because they didn’t think there was anyone to protect from.
Inside the buildings were made up of the prefabs that had been favoured in the early days of landing on Ardin. They were set up in small groupings much like a city block with a courtyard in the middle.
Jorg took them farther in but now he slowed down as he stopped to talk to as many people as he could to show off the strangers he had brought to town. Sorcha moved in closer but Kynaston didn’t think they had anyone to fear here.
Jorg took them to a group of houses and a courtyard and yelled, “Mom dad. I have someone here to see you.”
A man who was in his early twenties popped his head from around a building, “What are you yelling about boy.”
“Dad, Dad look.” There was no way this young man was Jorg’s real father. He would have been only ten or so when Jorg was born.
The young man cleaned his hands on an apron he wore and came out to see what had Jorg so excited. He frowned when he took in their presence. “A Serenity.”
Kynaston ran a hand through his hair. The blonde white hair was the only thing that made him appear Serenity and for years he had given it a rinse so it looked more like the yellow blonde common amongst the Scribes. He hadn’t realised how much it made him set apart from the others. His father had always insisted he dye his hair and had been upset when he hadn’t gone for a darker colour that was more the look of a rustic.
But Kynaston hadn’t wanted to be Rustic even if he had pretended for his father. “I’m Kynaston and this is Sorcha. We are from the city.”
“The city. I thought that was destroyed and that only sections of the ship were left.”
Sorcha spoke then, “It was a lie. The Scribes have taken power from the Serenities and forced them to move out into the fiains. Your son, Jorg, told us that you were told there was a war. There was none. Not one the kind of war where you have armies and such.”
Kynaston could argue that a war was a war even if the army was covert. But he knew Sorcha as a Scribe was still not sure of her people’s part in the change in power. Kynaston and Aaru had spoken about it a lot when they were kids and knew that they didn’t blame the Scribes.
A wounded animal was easy pickings for a stronger creature. The Serenities should have at least created the illusion of their power before they introduced the weakness into their people. It was ancient history as far as he was concerned and the fact that his people had made their own cities to him was the best outcome in the situation.
The young man narrowed his eyes as he took them in and then yelled over his shoulder, “Kat I think you should come out here.”
A young woman, the same age as the young man, came out. She was carrying a basket of clothes and frowned at the tableau. “Yes?”
The young man waved towards them and Kat said, “Are you staying for dinner?”
Kynaston almost laughed as that was the last thing he expected her to say. Jorg bounced on his feet and said, “Yes, yes. Please. They will have stories I haven’t heard before.”
The young man looked suspicious and looked at the woman. There was a silent conversation between the two that was spoken by people who had lived with each other for a long time.
Eventually the young man sighed and said, “Fine.”
Sorcha said, “We would love to stay. I think there are some things we need to talk about. We have our man with our rover out in the fiains. If you could send someone to help him, it would be appreciated.”
Again, the two adult Warriors spoke silently to each other. Kat raised an eyebrow and said gently, “Germaine.”
He sighed and said, “Fine. Come, boy. You can show me where you found them and we can backtrack.” Germaine untied his apron and Jorg ran around Germaine much like a darting fish. Germaine was the calm in the storm as he prepared to go out into the fiain.
Kat moved the basket to her hip and said, “Come inside.”
They made their introductions as they went into the small home. It was well kitted out with things from the city. The Scribes had done a good job of hiding the movements because until Kynaston had seen those babies in incubators he hadn’t been aware of this project.
Even though the Rustics were in control of production of almost everything it appeared the Scribes had isolated the different aspects of production so they could siphon off enough resources to fund a whole city.
Kat put her basket on the table and started folding. “So tell me. What brings you guys out here?”
Sorcha asked, “Shouldn’t we get someone of more authority.”
Kat didn’t even hesitate in her folding as she. “We all have authority. We are a completely egalitarian society.”
Kynaston said, “That is what Kaidan told us about Warriors.”
Kat raised an eyebrow at the name. “A good Warrior name.”
Kynaston agreed, “My brother-in-law. He is a Warrior like you guys. He lives in another city though.”
“Another city? You really do have something to tell us. Maybe you should start from the beginning.”
Sorcha and Kynaston took turns telling Kat what they knew of the Scribes plans and why they might have been raising Warriors in secret.
19
Scribe
By the time they finished Kat had completed folding the clothes and had moved onto making a meal. Germaine returned somewhere near the end with Wynn. Wynn placed their bags by the door and merely nodded to all of them before he took a seat.
Jorg bounced around setting the table and listening to their tale with eyes as large as Ardin’s fourth moon at the end of the month. Once they had finished telling what they knew the questions then started. Even Jorg had his own but he was more interested in her ability to make a Mako cat turn and run.
After dinner Germaine rose to put all the plates away. He said as he worked, “Tomorrow when you head out, we will send some people with you. I think we need to know what is out there instead of hiding here.”
Kat quickly defended him, “We weren’t hiding.”
Germaine gave her a knowing look. “You don’t think we haven’t discussed the inconsistencies before. But we were content here, so we didn’t bother to find out where all the extra food comes when we have lean months or the houses. No one remembers building them. We know the city was only built when we were born but who made it. No, we knew the stories we had been told didn’t hold water but it was safer to pretend we knew the whole story or think we could figure it out later.”
Kat’s face wrinkled in pain. “I know. But we had reasons to be blind.”
Kat didn’t go into the details. There was clearly more here than the two were willing to share with them. Wynn dissipated the tension by yawning. “A good night’s sleep would be good. Have a place for us to crash?”
Jorg said, “You can stay in my room. I have a spare bed and everything.” Jorg was up and pulled on Wynn’s hand to guide him to his room.
Kat got to her feet and said, “Germaine will make up the bed for your guys in the spare room.”
Kynaston almost said they weren’t a couple but after what had happened in his empty tower in Jing City he wasn’t really sure where they stood. He looked at Sorcha waiting for her to proclaim they weren’t a couple. He would be fine with them sleeping separately but he would leave it in her hands. When Sorcha said nothing, he kept his own mouth shut and followed Germaine into the spare room. Sorcha placed her hand on the small of his back as she passed him to go further into the room. He lowered his eyeli
ds as he took her in. that touch said more than any words.
Their hosts went to sleep but Sorcha remained awake, listening to some of the recordings they had retrieved from Plato. He finished making up the bed. Since she hadn’t made a comment, he assumed she was alright with them taking up the same position they had the night before. He hesitated as he finished tucking in the pillow into the case.
The small voice was barely a whisper as it played off the computer on her wrist. He knew the volume could be louder but he also figured Sorcha didn’t want the Warriors to hear everything.
Her shoulders stiffened when a particular voice came on the recording. Kynaston finished making the bed and came up behind her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she turned the recording off. He asked, “Are you alright?”
She let out an exhausted breath and said, “I’ll have to be.”
He left it at that. Hopefully, she would find the strength to talk to him about what she had discovered in the recordings.
20
Scribe
Sorcha stood looking out at the fiains. There was a small group gathering around them and the vehicle Wynn had managed to fix the night before. A woman, as tall as all the men but with hair silver as a winter fox, stood in the centre of the collection. Just the way she stood and the way others moved around her told everyone there she was in charge.
Sorcha had never seen a Warrior so old. She hadn’t realised they could be that old but that was merely prejudiced. There hadn’t been any significant wars so there was no reason why a Warrior wouldn’t be able to get old. Only that she had never seen an old Warrior. All the Warriors she had seen on patrol were young and usually male.
In fact, she hadn’t seen many female Warriors either. She knew they weren’t kept from their military but for some reason she hadn’t thought about it either. It made her feel ill that the Scribes propaganda had created this image of the fighting fit who were breathing down their necks at any moment to take over from the Scribes so they had to be ever vigilant. Sorcha hadn’t even realised it was an image she kept in her head until she found herself staring at the old Warrior woman.
Model: Scribe (Model Humans Book 2) Page 11