by Erica Rue
“I knew the Ficarans were hoarding their tech supplies,” the boss said.
“Actually, these supplies were in the Mountain Base. The Ficarans didn’t have access to them until a few days ago.”
The boss grumbled and prepared to leave with the supplies, but Zane locked eyes with him and said, “Let me help. If the Vens… the demons come here, you’ll need as much of this stuff working as possible. Give me the unimportant stuff first, but let me help.”
Colm laughed at him. “They’re never gonna let you help, kid. You’re a fool to offer. They’d rather roast in their own pot than let you take the kettle off the fire.”
The boss frowned at that. The young man had a suggestion. “Maybe he could help fix some of the Ficaran lights. I see some bulbs in here. These supplies might be enough to restore some of the Artifacts. I’ve seen most of these supplies before, and I think we should use them if we can. Plus, without those Ficaran techs, we could use some help.”
Zane wondered if he was talking about the same techs Lithia had freed when she took the shuttle to get Dione from the Field Temple.
“All right, take him to the graveyard,” the boss said.
“The graveyard?” Zane said. He didn’t like the sound of that.
“We’ve got a barn full of broken and dead Artifacts,” the young man said. “I’m Diego, by the way.”
“Zane.”
The guards followed, bringing Colm along with them. Luckily, they saw him as the real threat and didn’t bother Zane too much. Of course, Zane was also compliant and wasn’t making rude jokes.
The graveyard was an enormous barn back near the wall. From the outside it was well kept, but once Diego slid open the double doors, Zane could see it was a complete mess. Somehow, based on everything he had heard, he wouldn’t have expected this from the Aratians. The Ficarans, maybe. There were tables littered with gadgets, corners stuffed with boxes, and several farm vehicles parked haphazardly. Zane stopped in front of one monstrosity near the entrance. It was a giant tractor, and attached to the back was a device covered in fang-like blades.
“What is this?” he asked.
“Heavy tiller. They used to break up the soil and establish the farms on the steps.” Diego gestured to the terraced hillside outside the walls. “It hasn’t worked in over a decade. Here, help me with this.”
Zane grabbed the other end of the floodlight Diego was carrying. They brought it out into the light where Zane’s stuff was. Diego looked through what he had brought before selecting a replacement bulb. He held it up to Zane as if asking if he agreed, and Zane nodded.
“Here. Hold this steady while I remove the fasteners,” Diego said. The light was designed to last a long time, but a good chunk of that time had already passed. Some of the tech that came from the bases was nearly a hundred years old. The newer stuff Jameson must have brought with him, but those things were aging, too, and with no new supply, they were breaking down. Zane wondered why Jameson hadn’t brought a fabricator. They were expensive, sure, but he’d been able to afford a colonizer. It would have made sense to bring one along, especially since he would have known that he wouldn’t be relying on trade for supplies.
Diego turned out not to be a talker, much like Zane. The two worked together in relative silence, repairing a few more floodlights before moving on to other small gadgets Diego brought out. Zane advised him to cannibalize some of them for parts in order to repair others, but Diego shook his head. “That’s not something we do.”
“Well, you should consider it, because a few of these things could work if you used other parts.”
“The Farmer will provide. No need to destroy his Artifacts.”
That explained a lot. A lot of this stuff could be usable. Hot plates, clocks, and Zane thought he even saw a holo-projector in the back. But they wouldn’t sacrifice one piece of equipment to repair another.
“I think the Ficarans take broken Artifacts and use the parts.”
“We’re not Ficarans, are we?”
Zane thought he detected a hint of annoyance in Diego’s voice. “Do you really think he would be mad?”
Diego shrugged.
Zane was actually enjoying this a lot. It was calming to work with something in his hands, find the problem, and repair it. Or, as the case often was, especially here, label it irreparable for the moment. Zane looked around for his next fix. The floodlights would help if the Vens attacked at night. The glowglobes he’d seen were beautiful, but just did not have the lumens to turn night into day. Looking around, he didn’t see any weapons, but there could certainly be some in here, well hidden in the piles of crap. Somehow he doubted it. The Aratians would store broken guns somewhere off-limits to the general population.
His eyes settled back on the giant tiller. Yes, this was it. Right now, it had a safety bar blocking off its blades, but with the bar removed, the tiller could become a deadly, Ven-mowing machine.
“Diego, what’s wrong with the tiller? Do you know?”
But Diego wasn’t paying him any attention. His focus was on a young man close to Zane’s age, who was talking to Colm’s guards.
“Benjamin called. He wants me to ask these two a few questions. In private.”
At first, they were reluctant, but the young man showed them something tucked into his waistband, and they nodded.
“Zane, we’ll be back in a minute. Stay with Will,” Diego said, sounding very annoyed. He motioned to the new guy, before following the guards off.
Will looked anxious, almost afraid, and he completely ignored Zane. He was focused on Colm. When Colm, who had been leaning against the barn, stood up, Will took a step back. Colm noticed and laughed.
“I don’t bite,” he said, “unless provoked. Why did you lie to those people? You told them Benjamin sent you.”
“Why do you think I lied? We have the communicators, after all,” Will said.
“Because you’re bad at it. What do you want?” Colm said.
“I want to leave. I want to go with you to the Field Temple.”
Colm stared at him a moment. “We were forced to leave the Temple when the Vens attacked. Our settlement is in ruins.”
“Then let me help rebuild,” Will said. “Please. There’s nothing for me here.”
“Another victim of the Matching, then?” Colm’s voice was softer than usual. “Tell me.”
“My girl, she was matched with someone else.”
“Is she going to come with you?”
Zane realized he was not watching a hypothetical conversation. Colm was actually planning to get this guy out.
“I don’t think that’s an option.”
“There’s always an option for victims of the Matching. I am proof. Many Ficarans are proof.”
“What made you leave?” Will asked.
Colm paused for a moment as if deliberating how much of his story to tell.
“I never wanted to be matched. I didn’t want to marry. I was in love with a man who had not been matched, and when I got married, he couldn’t stand it. He left. He tried to get me to come with him, but I was too afraid.
“At first, I tried to perform the duties of a husband, but after he left, I couldn’t. Luckily, my wife was already pregnant, so I was left alone. But soon, she began complaining loudly to the others. Shaming me. Everyone hated me, and I hated myself. Except for my sister and my daughter. Victoria and I talked about leaving, but she was afraid she wouldn’t make it out. She was almost sixteen, so she destroyed the only thing of value in an Aratian woman so she wouldn’t be kept. We left on the day of her Matching with a few others. I took my daughter. She cried and cried and cried for her mother, but I knew that one day she would thank me for freeing her. For giving her a choice.”
Colm looked angry but resolved. Zane was willing to bet he had told that story before to Aratians with doubts. The Ficarans had needed numbers. At least, until their food shortage started.
“So your daughter doesn’t have a mother?” Will said. There w
as judgment in his voice.
“No, she has two fathers. My story has a happy ending.”
“Mine won’t. My girl can’t leave.”
“Everyone feels like that. If she is truly as unhappy with her Match as you claim, she can leave, too.”
“I don’t think they would take the escape of Michael’s daughter lightly.” Will looked closely at Colm when he said this.
Cora. The guy was talking about Cora. Even Colm looked taken aback.
“That would be difficult, you’re right. We don’t have the resources to protect her. We don’t even have the resources to protect ourselves at the moment.”
“Even if you rebuild?”
Colm frowned. “Rebuilding will take time, resources, and manpower. The Vens hit us hard. We lost so many, and if you still wish to join us, we welcome you, but it will have to wait until the Vens are gone. We have learned a difficult lesson. I am only here as a hostage because the Vens are a bigger threat than any of us realized.”
“Is it really that bad?” Will said.
Colm put a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Here, they want you to feel safe. That is how they keep you sheep. They tell you stories of wolves, like me, to frighten you, and now that the true wolves are here, you do not believe that they will rip you to pieces. The Vens could kill us all. I’ve seen them, and in all my life, I’ve never been so afraid as when they were tearing down my world around me. Do you think I’d come back here—to this place I hate—for anything other than a deadly threat to everyone on Kepos? Do you think I’m here to save Aratian lives?”
Will said nothing.
“I’m here to save Ficarans, and that means working with the Aratians.”
Will turned to Zane, as if noticing him for the first time. He wanted something. Reassurance? He looked so pale.
“It’s true,” Zane said, stepping away from the tiller. “The only way to stop the Vens is by working together. If your people really think that they can brush this threat off, then we’ll all die.”
“You’re Zane, aren’t you?” Will asked, cocking his head slightly. “Cora told me about you.”
“Nothing good, I’m sure.”
“You’re friends with Lithia. Cora told me about where you claim to come from.”
“Lithia told the truth. The Farmer was just a man. The Architect was just a woman. They were people, just like us.”
“The Artifacts?” Will said, gesturing to the barn behind Zane.
“The components aren’t magical. They just obey the laws of the universe. There’s so much more out there than you can imagine.”
Diego and the guards returned. Will gave Colm a meaningful look, nodded to Diego, and left.
The guards had apparently gone to get a snack, and offered Zane and Colm some crackers and dried fruit. The food tasted completely unfamiliar to Zane, but he ate it gratefully. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was.
He got back to work. The sun was past its peak in the sky, but there was still a good chunk of daylight left. The days here were long. Zane took a break and wiped the sweat from his brow. He noticed Colm staring out across the town, deep in thought. His silence was deeper after their conversation with Will.
Zane couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Colm to be back here, as a hostage no less. “Do you have any good memories from growing up here?” he asked.
“A few,” Colm replied. “But they aren’t the ones that stick out.”
30. DIONE
“You don’t have to solve all of your disputes today. You only have to figure out a way to work together for a few days,” Professor Oberon said. It was the third time he had said it, by Dione’s count. She was beginning to doubt that these two would be able to come to an agreement. Every time they got close, something pulled them off track.
Dione needed a break from the bickering, so the knock on the door came as a welcome interruption. Victoria and Benjamin stopped glaring at each other long enough to glare at the door.
Dione opened it, and Moira and Bel entered the room. Lithia pulled up a chair from the corner for Bel, who was holding something in her closed hand. Moira grabbed her own chair and moved it next Benjamin. She didn’t wait for an invitation to speak.
“The demons, or rather Vens, are incredibly strong. Their plating is almost impenetrable. The cavalry’s pila blades will not be effective. Any blows will glance off unless they are at the joints. Their organs are redundant, which explains why the Farmer and his men had such trouble defeating them. Even their brains are segmented to have redundancies. The threat is real, Benjamin. Michael would want you to act.”
Benjamin seemed annoyed by the mention of his brother. “Michael wouldn’t give up everything sacred to us for a few guns that won’t do any good.” Dione watched Benjamin check Victoria’s reaction. He was trying to rile her, and the nasty frown she threw back told Dione it was working.
Bel, however, was staring at him. He seemed to notice and turned to her. She opened her closed fist to reveal a small white disc. Benjamin and Victoria looked unimpressed.
“Bel, what do you have there?” Professor Oberon said.
“I’m not sure. Moira found it attached to the juvenile’s brain,” she said, placing the disc in the professor’s palm. “There was an identical device in the adult. We checked. If Zane were here, he could tell us.”
“Lightweight. Small. I’ll run it through some tests on the Calypso to find out what it is,” the professor said.
“Do you think it will help us?” Dione asked.
“Until we figure out what it is, I’ve got no idea. Good work, Bel. And Moira,” Professor Oberon said. He nodded to her. Dione thought Moira seemed like the most reasonable one of the three Kepos natives. Maybe her presence would moderate things.
“So if it’s agreed that the Vens are a true threat, then what is the best way to defeat them?” Dione said.
Bel spoke up again. “Sam, can you use the Icon to kill any of the Vens?”
There was a long pause before Sam spoke. “The Icon is…” She trailed off.
“Sam?” Lithia said.
“I’m sorry, my attention is divided. I am walking one of the doctors through a surgery. The Icon can only hit targets above a certain altitude. It cannot be used for attacks on the ground.”
Everyone around the table frowned. Dione worried about Sam. She was not used to doing so much. She was just beginning to realize the toll that caring for all these Ficarans was taking on her.
Benjamin looked worried as well, but for a different reason.
“Who is Sam? How could you forget to mention you have control over the Icon?” His eyes were wide as he leaned forward and looked around the room. Moira looked surprised, too, but relaxed back into her chair.
Professor Oberon sighed, but Dione knew he was going to tell the whole truth. “Samantha is the artificial intelligence, the AI, that controls this base and the Icon, the weapon which is installed here. They,” he said, motioning to Dione and Lithia, “repaired it and used it to destroy one of the Ven ships that came here. Sam is currently coordinating the Ficaran refugees, which keeps her busy.”
Moira arched her eyebrows. “Anything else?” Somehow Moira knew already.
“Sam was the Architect before joining herself to the AI here.”
“And you didn’t think to mention this?” Benjamin said. “Is that why you wanted me to come here, to be at her mercy?”
Victoria was losing her patience, Dione could see. “I’ve already explained my reasons for inviting you here.”
“Enough, both of you,” Moira said. “We are running out of time. If this AI hasn’t killed us yet, I doubt she’ll start now. Victoria, what do you need in return for the guns?”
“I would send armed men, not trade the guns themselves.”
“Very well, what do you need, then?”
“I want the end of the Matching.”
Moira laughed and turned to the professor. “I can see why the talks have stalled, Elian. Victoria, you kn
ow that the Matching is not something that Aratians can give up so easily. Tell us what you need, not what you want, because you need this alliance as much as we do.”
“We need food, freedom, and a chance to rebuild.”
“You have taken some of those things already, but I have a suggestion. We can negotiate a deal to include food and a temporary peace while you rebuild, but what if I could show you how to restore your farmland so that you can be independent once again?”
Benjamin interrupted. “No, Moira, you’re giving them too much.”
“Benjamin, she’s offering to send her people to die for ours. Our offer must convey our gratitude without compromising our values. What do you say, Victoria?”
“I’m interested,” Victoria said.
“Good, the process of phytoremediation takes many years, but in the end, your farmland will be usable again.”
Dione gasped in excitement at the word phytoremediation. The professor also seemed impressed with Moira’s ingenuity. Dione suspected that she had been working on this proposal for a long time, and was just now getting the chance to pitch it. It sounded like she didn’t have permission to offer it, though.
“Years? That’s hardly a fair deal.”
“Perhaps not, but that’s how nature works. Phytoremediation uses plants to remove the toxins from the earth. You will keep control of all the Flyers throughout the process, except for one, which you will give to us as a sign of good faith, along with the help of your armed men against the Vens.”
Victoria thought about it for a long time. It didn’t sound like a bad deal to Dione. In a few years, they wouldn’t have to rely on the Aratians for food, but in the meantime, the Ficarans would no longer starve. They would also have time to rebuild.
“And you’ll offer all of those Matched a choice, instead of imposing marriage on them,” Victoria said.
Dione admired her dedication to this cause, but she doubted the Aratians would budge on such a central tenet of their culture.
Moira thought a moment. Benjamin took her silence as an invitation to speak, but she shook her head. Amazing how he listens to her.