MNU Spreads Lies--Alive in District 10

Beyond

“Goodbye.”

Time broke free from its moorings somewhere near the pyre. I felt my small hands immersed in cold ash, brushing cracked remnants of shell-plate into a crude wooden box. “I know you can’t hear me, Elder.” I whispered. “But your body will return to our home. With me.” I shut the lid, held it tight—and then saw only darkness. Akra. Goodbye…

Somewhere in time Nick’s hand was rested on my back, guiding me through the Canada base. It’s bright. I thought. Is it daytime? Did I sleep? My eyes passed over the trees before me and oil fields to my right. Vivid, irrelevant images imprinted themselves on my mind—trees, snow, and the great expanse in the middle of nowhere that employed and housed less than a hundred of my people. A dim shock passed through my chest when I realized I was talking, smiling, laughing. Images and sounds came to me as though from a great distance…myself, sitting mesmerized by the sight of five Poleepkwan children kicking a soccer ball about. I’d never seen such a toy before, only shreds of them in District 9. Its newness seemed bright, the black and white contrast not dimmed by wear and dust. Poleepkwan children laughed as though they had never known fear. I smiled, and a little one with moss-colored plates waved at me.

My mind shifted as though rifling through photographs and throwing them randomly up to my eyes. “Your ass is mine, Prawn.” Douglas’ hands gripped my body, shell-plates rasping against dirt. “The light.” Akra’s voice echoed. “That beacon Christopher passed to you...”

The light…where is it? Where am I? The moment shifted again and I sat beneath bright fluorescent bulbs, surrounded by bookshelves. I glanced about and saw that I held a thick tome of history in my lap, yellowed pages bearing black-and-white images of humans holding signs. Right—I’m reading about labor strikes. Unions. Lawrence Owen mentioned that Tanukashi wants us to organize…

I wandered on legs I couldn’t feel past older, taller Poleepkwa in the brightly-lit hallway. Right. Nick showed me. This is where we sleep. There were no tents here, no makeshift shacks, but structures made of three modular buildings connected like a “U.” In each arm of the “U” was a hallway with ten rooms on each side; in a style I’d heard compared to a dorm. Each room held a small desk, chair and double bed. A bed, with sheets and a pillow!

“Are you okay, kiddo?” Nick’s hand was on my shoulder, guiding me somewhere. Living shell-plate and spirals of blue paint seemed to melt in my vision. Why was Nick’s face distorted, so far away through dust and motes of light? My eyes refused to focus. Where did he come from? Is this real; is this now?  I whispered something about Akra, and he looked down at the carpeted floor with a heavy sigh.

“I didn't know him much, but the loss of such a wise father figure and leader is terrible, to say the least. Still, his legacy lives on,” I followed Nick as though we wandered through fog, walls and world about me like a distant dream. “In you.”

He’s right. What’s wrong with me? I thought, drifting in numbness. I knew this would happen. Akra…you knew. You wouldn’t live forever. Damn it, why don’t I know where I am? It shouldn’t be like this, I’ve survived worse. I squinted, blinked; trying to push through my personal haze as though it were a physical thing. I’m sitting somewhere. Feels like a plastic chair…

Elder, I spent every waking moment in that box thinking of Father. When I was free you were my second Father. It’s stupid and selfish but I’ve lost you. What I have is only your words, your legacy. I have to follow you without you.

A human voice echoed into my mind, distorted by computer speakers. Ryan? I need to hear this!   

My body was cold. Good, I’m feeling it, something real. Sensations came slowly but I grabbed at each one like a lifeline. My computer screen glowed before me, set on a clean table in the base library. Strong grey-black plates moved in the corner of my eye. Nick.

The screen shifted as Ryan angled a webcam until his young human face appeared in our view. “Sherry, Nick? Can you guys hear me?” He paused, muttering with a slight smile, “God, it’s late.”

 

Nick smiled and lifted his hand up to greet our friend. “Look who it is! Took ya long enough. Having too much fun in Japan to see us now?” He chuckled.

 

My vision cleared enough to see the tension in my “big brother’s” eyes.  “Never too much to take time out for you guys. But, it seems like that's coming to an end anyway.”

 

Shit! This is important, focus! I leaned forward, furrowing my plated brow. Imagine that beacon before you, and follow it. Breathe. “What are you talking about? I'll see you soon, right? When we get back to D-10.”

 

He pushed the camera back to reveal a man I’d never seen before, of a sort I’d never met in person—every fold of his dark business suit was immaculately pressed, black hair styled as though he’d stepped out of a magazine. Ryan introduced him as Lawrence Owen, a Tanukashi lawyer. When he spoke it was with the voice of a politician. “See, there's a small matter that we need to discuss. Mr. Baumgardner and I have spent the day talking about this particular subject. For,” Mr. Owen paused, his dark brown eyes appraising us both. “Assurance reasons, we thought it best to tell you of the plan. Obviously, this can't be on any record.”

 

I shook my head, struggling to grasp the present moment. “Have we ever been on any record? Tanukashi officially doesn’t know I exist. What's the plan?”

“It has to do with the law, Sherry.” Ryan enunciated the word as though it were heavy.

 

“The law?” Fog seemed to fill my mind again and I glanced over at Nick for guidance. “That can't be good.”

 

“Nope.” He met my eyes. “It usually means that what we've got comes with strings attached.”

 

“Not in this case.” The lawyer said evenly.

 

Ryan aimed a slight glare at Owen, and then addressed his friend and “Poleepkwan Princess” in a measured tone. “Technically speaking, ARFA broke the law. Technically speaking, the Poleepkwa are property of MNU. Technically...and technically, we've been smuggling contraband.”

 

I sighed. “Right. You stole MNU's property, and are illegally giving it food and shelter. With Tanukashi's help, technically.”

 

“That is going too far, Ms. Johnson.” Owen’s face hardened almost unnoticeably, casting a harsh glance at the bothersome little “alien.”

 

“Too far?” Nick gave a disparaging click. “You guys signed on with us to help, remember?”

 

Ryan lifted his hand. “He's just trying to save his ass, forget it.”

 

“I realize that and it's pissing me off!” Nick’s voice was tight, his mouth-tentacles flared outward. “I've had enough politics from MNU.”

 

“Well, Nick, get used to being pissed.” Ryan’s eyes seemed darkened, aged. “Because I’ve got good news and bad news.”

 

The hand that I rested on Nick’s arm did not quite feel like mine, but that of an inept puppeteer.  Nick’s posture relaxed slightly, though wounded sub-arms twitched with tension. “I…can tell. Let's just let them tell us what they have planned.” I looked up at the camera. “Well, what is it?”

 

“The bad news is that we've been…” Ryan paused. “‘Stealing.’ And even though we're trying to get the Poleepkwa recognized as sentient beings, that hasn't happened yet. Kurt is saved from murder by ‘Ex Post Facto,’ and so am I condemned.”

 

The room spun about me as I clenched my fists and stared at his image on my screen. “Ex Post Facto? What's that…?” My throat constricted. “No. Not condemned...you're going to die?”

 

Ryan pursed his lips. “It means ‘after the law,’ more or less. Even when the Poleepkwa are recognized as people, Kurt won't be tried for murder, because when he killed, they weren't. We weren't stealing people, but helping them illegally immigrate. It still counts as stealing property. And, death is a possibility, but I wouldn't count on it.”

 

Nick’s mutilated hand gripped the edge of the table. “Yeah, like spending a few decades in an overseas prison is any better.” 

 

“Funny choice of words.” My “big brother” ran a hand through his red-blonde hair.

 

“Prison.” I grabbed tight onto Nick’s other hand as though by reflex, yet my heart felt strangely numb. “You're serious.” 

 

“Tanukashi will have to do a thorough search of ARFA, and give the UIO full access to the search, if we're going to work with ARFA.” Owen’s voice held a tinge of remorse, yet his words were calm. “We're going to have to admit the ‘illegal activities.’ Someone is going to have to take responsibility.”

 

“And there are only a few of us in ARFA who have the authority to take that responsibility.” Ryan laid a calloused hand on his own chest.

 

Nick’s voice was grim. “The way you're putting this...it's sounding like you might just go martyr yourself.”

 

Owen broke in. “That's not—“

 

“Look, someone has to go to jail, because that's what the law says.” Ryan’s tone was firm. “Forget the corporate crap.”

 

I shut my eyes, the vision of him on the screen seeming to fade into formless darkness. Big brother’s…going away. “And you've volunteered. Tanukashi is going to have a ‘merger’ that's not really a merger, act surprised that their pet activist group was smuggling us to the bases they supposedly didn't know about, and make a public show of turning you over to the authorities and putting you in jail?”

 

“No. I will turn myself in on ARFA's authority. Separate from Tanukashi, as an act of openness.” He squared his shoulders, a tinge of pride barely visible in his young face. “It’s better this way, trust me. Why me? Because Dayna can take over for me, she has already kept things in order. And because my counterpart in North America will have a shitload to deal with, really soon. They need a leader there.”

 

“They need a leader in South Africa!” Nick was nearly shouting. “You were the one who started it all, right at ground zero. You've become an icon there, a symbol of hope that the human species is not the demonic, torture-happy thing MNU made it out to be.”

 

“Eric and Char were there when I started. They know the systems better than anyone else. It’s better that one man go to prison now, than many go later.”

 

“It really is better this way.” Owen nodded.

 

Nick leaned in, laying a hand on the screen as though he could pass through it. “Look, I...I can see the logic behind this, but there has to be a better way.” He seemed to be speaking only to Ryan. “There have to be more options!”

 

“Nick, the bureaucrats are going to be out for blood.” Ryan sighed. “Someone will be imprisoned. As much of a complete waste of space he manages to be, they can't have Owen.” The lawyer’s eyes widened in astonishment.

 

“Fuck the bureaucrats!” Nick hissed. “If they want blood, I'll give them blood. I'll force-feed them their own blood till they're full of it!”

 

Ryan’s face seemed strained. “It doesn't work that way, Nick!"

 

“Both of you, please shut up!” I leapt to my feet though I scarcely felt them. “Ryan, you're saying that you need to go to prison for helping us, and to preserve the image and all that...forever? Not forever.”

 

“Not forever. They won't hold me for long.” He leaned towards the camera, folding his hands together. “It's mostly a show. Let me explain. Technically speaking, we stole; so technically speaking, someone needs to go to jail. We need to keep Tanukashi out of this, so the UIO completes the transfer, instead of handing the reigns to someone else. Remember? Remember the deal this dimwit gave you?”

 

Owen inclined his head towards me. “Dim-witted as I may be, I’ll still fight for your freedom, Ms. Johnson.”

 

“As long as it doesn't hurt your precious image, that is.” Nick snorted.

 

“That image is the symbol of your freedom, Mr. Gogan!” Owen’s voice seemed articulate, yet sharp.

 

“Don't assume I'm as docile as everyone else.” Nick’s jaw clenched. “As soon as Tanukashi starts becoming more trouble than they're worth, I'll cut them, and you, loose myself.”

 

“Nick...” My voice trailed off. No more arguing. My big brother’s determined. “Damn it, I hate to say it, but he does have a point.” I managed to glare at the camera through a kind of strange numbness. “Though don't expect me to be grateful to you, Mr. Owen. Ryan, what happens now? To you, to the bases...”

 

“We're going to work on legally granting the Poleepkwa asylum, if not residency in North America, which would make the bases legal. Canada, Poland, Spain, New Zealand, and Italy are scheduled to speak with Tanukashi about allowing legal immigration of Poleepkwa.” Owen smiled slightly. “Mr. Baumgardner will take the responsibility for the illegal ‘contraband.’”

 

“I'll go away for a short while, so that our people can be free.” Ryan said simply, a kind of quiet vigor in his tone. “What is my freedom, compared to that of 2.5 million?”

 

I felt my mandibles click in a faint laugh. “That sounds just like you, Ryan. When? Can I...”

 

“We're afraid that—“ Owen broke in.

 

“Let me say it.” Ryan’s back straightened. “You know what? You’re done here. Unnecessary at this point.” He adjusted the camera away from Owen and made a dismissive gesture at the startled-looking man, his voice tinged with bright sarcasm. “Any more legal proceedings can be carried out at another time, thank you and good-day sir!”

 

Nick grinned. “I'm half a world away and that still felt so good! Bye-bye annoying lawyer.” His smile vanished as soon as it appeared. “Any idea whether or not they'll go easy on you?”

 

I glanced up at Nick. “Please tell me that the humans have jails as nice, and as different as their schools. If anyone tries to prod Ryan, I'll tear their face off.” I tried to imitate Ryan’s sarcastic smile.

 

Nick nodded. “It's not as bad as D-10 is for Poleepkwa, I can tell you that much for sure.”

 

“I'm afraid we won't see each other again.” Ryan’s voice was soft, accepting. “If things were different, you could come visit me. I know I’ll have a shortened sentence, because of the situation. As for the conditions... it depends. They don't torture you so much in prison, but they can kill. Some of the inmates already have life sentences without a chance of getting out, so they don't think twice about killing.”

 

Ryan might die. Somehow I felt no terror at the idea, only the sensation of those words coming from a great distance. Why am I cold? Chilled ashes…maybe the Elder died and so did I. Ryan’s talking to an empty shell.

 

Nick flinched, his one remaining antennae twitching erratically. “Ouch, that's a bit more than I would've told her. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a white-collar jail, though. Since you've been on international TV, you might be high-profile enough...”

 

“Honestly, I don't know what will happen.” Ryan’s voice was solid, warm. “But I won't let them get me.”

 

“Ryan!” Another Sherry spoke his name, her words horribly inadequate. “Please...please be careful.”

 

“I'll be careful, but I won't lie to you. Or to you, Nick. If the worst happens, I want you guys to know everything I gave. I want you guys to have the truth.”

 

If the worst happens. I choked and something burst within my chest like starlight. The worst has already happened! It’s happened, I’ve passed into nothingness and yet…we’re still here.

 

I stood up suddenly and laid my hands on Nick’s shoulders, while his own hand still rested on the screen. We were links in a chain, one friendship intertwined with another. This is it. I thought; dark haze and finally every wisp of fog clearing from my vision. I felt a sudden unity with every one of our shared people who had fallen, with my distant Father and brother in another galaxy; a oneness with both the living and the dead.

 

My hands on Nick’s blue-painted plates felt solid, real, and yet as though I could see through them and into Ryan, then into myself and Akra again. Whoever passes and whoever remains, we live on through each other. Even without the hive mind, we are one.

 

 “You know you won’t be there any longer than two years and six months.” I actually winked at Ryan, smiling—for what was there to fear?  “If you’re still in then, our people—my Father—will break you out if we have to blow apart prison walls to do it!” I paused, thinking for a moment of the practical, the mundane. “Can I write you letters? Have you talked to Christian?”

 

“You can. And yes, I have talked to Christian about this.” Ryan chuckled. “He was about as happy as Nick in a spider's nest.”

 

Nick shivered at the mention of spiders. “You better not get your ass shanked in there, or I swear I'll stab you myself when you get out.”

 

“Buddy, if you stab me, I’ll stab you with your own shell-spike.” Ryan grinned at the camera, his eyes bright with the devotion I knew so well.

 

“Ha!” Nick’s laugh was triumphant. “Ah, you might just make it outta there alive!”

 

“You guys.” I chuckled with him, struggling for words. Why had we ever fought; why had I ever doubted him? “Ryan...you're very brave, you know. I just want to tell you that I'm sorry—I'm sorry for every time I said something wrong to you, I'm sorry for being such a pain. When you get out, we'll have that birthday party. And you'll meet Father, even if he has to blow up a jail to do it.”

 

He shook his head. “Don't worry Sherry; you've never once been a pain to me. Frightened me a few times, but not a pain.”

 

Images danced in my mind, disjointed and lacking words. I hope you live for many more decades and endure in the memories of your own children. But if you pass, you’ll live on through all you’ve done for our people. That is the light beyond death.  Yet I could only whisper, “Love you, big brother. Please take care of yourself in there.”

 

“I'll be fine.” He nodded at his friend. “Nick, I expect you to pick me up when they let me out of there.”

 

“Count on it! Not to sound all mushy or anything, but we've been through a lot together, man. You're one of the few humans I can say this to,” Nick paused, his clicks growing soft. “Pay attention 'cause I'm only saying it once: I love you, man. Seriously, stay safe in there. I'll see you on the other side.” 

Journeys

“What…the…fuck…is that?”

Steven was the first to step from the van and utter those words. He cupped his hands over his lower antennae against the unfamiliar salty air, his green-plated legs faltering from two days riding in a van with eleven other Poleepkwan adults and children. But it was his eyes that I couldn’t fail to notice first, pale green and widening as though in a fruitless attempt to encompass the enormous expanse before us.

I followed him out and was struck silent. We looked beyond the docks, between the cranes to something immense beyond words. This world’s ocean was blue. That much I’d already known from two-dimensional images on my human computer. But it was no preparation for this. It was like an immense, flat, shifting blue puddle that met the lighter blue of the horizon in a perfect line.

 

 I scarcely remember what Dayna said; the quiet friend who had driven us across the desert for two days with occasional stops for rest. It was something about the cargo ship docked a short distance away, and checking in with the crew waiting for us. I didn’t realize that I was clinging to Nick’s hand until he chuckled.

I glanced up at him. “Have you...seen this before?”

He looked down to meet my eyes, his black mouth-tentacles curving in a grin. “Seen, been in, and drank quite a bit of it over my life. Nothing tastes like the ocean. Here,” I almost squealed as he picked me up and put me on his shoulders. “Take a better look. It’s huge!”

I laughed and wrapped my arms around his head. “Hey! You shouldn’t do that, you're still healing.” He leaned on one crutch but seemed all right to stand. I pointed to the horizon before us, and the strange vessel to my left. “It's amazing. We're going across that, in that?”

 

"Uh-huh. That's the plan" He set me back down. I felt a pang of regret, and realized I could have stayed up there for a long time. It felt like riding on Father’s shoulders, or like a throne. “The entire journey should take about a couple of weeks, so,” He chuckled, mandibles clicking rapidly. “Get comfortable.” 

“If we can be comfortable on cots in tunnels, we can be comfortable anywhere.” He swung easily on his crutches, following me towards a small walkway. I nearly touched the water but paused, glancing up at Nick. “Is it...safe?”

He stepped forward and crouched at the edge, immersing his painted arm. “Physically, yeah, but I don't recommend drinking it. Countries can dump some sick stuff into these waters. Here, just put your hand in.” He nodded. “It's refreshing.”

“Okay!” I relaxed face down on the rusted metal, my head over the edge, letting my arm slide all the way into the water. “It's...” I looked up at him with wide eyes. “Cold. And smooth. It feels like it's alive.” I glanced back to the others and called out to them. “It's all right! Come see this!” Two of the children stepped towards us, seeming to watch every motion of this unknown, beautiful, living sea.

Nick’s eyes seemed thoughtful, pondering the wide expanse before us. “It's so close, yet so far out of reach. So many secrets in its depths. It really is full of life.” He paused and glanced back to the van. “Shall we get everyone on board?”

“’So many secrets in its depths!’” I wiggled my mouth-tentacles at him. “Mr. Poet Lion. Dayna should be back soon, she said that she'll introduce us to the humans on the ship and then drive back across the desert.” I slowly pulled my arm out of the water and held it before me, green skin between my plates drying in an almost imperceptible breeze. “I wonder what the oceans on our homeworld feel like. I've heard they're even more beautiful.”

“Oceans with hues of red and purple. Majestic!” He climbed to his feet; eyes wide with distant curiosity. “The creatures living in it must have some serious toxin resistance to withstand the coral reef blooms. Or maybe the reef's chemicals aren't as potent. I don't know, but I damn well know that's something I want to see someday.”

You want to see it! The single thought seemed ecstatic. I love you, and you’re coming home. I think I grinned like an idiot as I rushed forward and wrapped my tiny arms around him.

He stood as though frozen for a moment, and then gave a deep laugh. “Was it something I said?”

“Sorry.” I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. You’re coming home!

“You know I love ya, kiddo, but that smile's creeping me out a little.” His antennae twitched in confusion, eyes widened but bright with humor. “Let's get these guys settled in before these seafarers change their minds.”

I shook my head, fighting the urge to clench my jaw until it ached. Somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to just ask him. Eric wants to stay. Ryan is human. Akra is…so old, so ill. Nick, if you’re not sure, if you’re staying behind…I can’t hear that. I can’t… “Never mind.” We heard the footsteps of three humans and turned about.

Nick waved with one of his crutches and slowly made his way to Dayna. She stood with the other refugees, two suntanned humans beside her that stood so loosely they seemed half-asleep. “Hey! Everything's set up?”

A tanned human with tousled, sun-bleached hair grinned as he nodded at us. “Ahoy, there. That's you all?”

 “Almost.” I ducked back into the van. Akra slept, as he had through most of our two-day drive to the Cape Town docks. His skin still had a waxen, yellowish tinge, but at least his fever seemed to have abated for now. Nick and I both—a small, short Poleepkwa and one who walked with crutches—offered to take opposite ends of his stretcher to move him from our van to this huge vessel.  We must have looked silly, because two other refugees gently shouldered us out of the way and carried it between them. I’d learned their given names on the long, uneventful journey across the desert: Richard and Lisa. They lifted him easily and seemed to gravitate towards the back of the group, a dozen Poleepkwa standing bug-eyed and quiet before unknown humans in such a foreign place—a paved parking lot, in a harbor, before a sea none of us had seen and a craft upon it that was easily larger than any factory.

“Howzit? Cat got your tongues?” A grin deepened the creases around the human’s dark eyes as he gestured towards the ship. “I’m Kevin. And she's a bokkie, ain't she?”

I stepped forward, unconsciously widening my stance and positioning myself between my silent friends and the human strangers like a shield. Dayna seemed to trust them, and said as much before kneeling down for a quick hug and climbing back into the van.

“Yes, it’s beautiful.” I clicked formally. They seemed friendly enough, but around an unknown human I had no option other than the utmost caution and politeness. MNU’s “behavioral guidelines” had said as much, and so had Father himself. But he’d always stopped short of actually calling any of them Sir.

“Lekker! She's a freighter—one of the best ones floatin' out here from South Af. Now, if you'd just all follow me we'll be able to cast off.” He tossed his hair back and jabbed playfully at his companion, who seemed to be wincing and leaning against a walkway’s metal railing for support. “Oy! Cap’n Morgan!”

He blinked. “...ay?”

“Help these aliens to their quarters! We've gotta shove off, brah!”

“Just now?” He squinted, running a hand through his short red hair.

“Now now!” Taller, more verbose Kevin rolled his eyes before swinging onto the walkway and seeming to disappear into the great metal craft. “Get ‘em below deck!”

“Ja.” Capitan Morgan inclined his head to the salt-crusted metal walkway, boarding the ship with slow, deliberate steps. “Just follow me, please.” He moved awkwardly, wincing as though with a headache. “You might feel a bit queasy—that's normal. Just lean on the walls if you're dizzy, but if you gotta blow chunks let me know. I'd have to clean it up after...ugh. Damn babalaas...”

He led us across the deck and stepped down into a hallway-type enclosure, but I paused for a moment before following him. Grasping the true size of this ship seemed almost impossible. I’d heard enough about the dealers—those filthy slavers—to know their priorities. Trafficking in Poleepkwa means cramming as many living beings into as small a space as possible. It means being in a box with no food or water for indeterminate lengths of time; sores growing on your body from the heat and filth.

 

Traveling covertly by way of an international company is the opposite. The cargo ship was stacked with innumerable tons of freight, each in steel boxes long and wide enough to accommodate our paltry group of a dozen refugees. We were all but an afterthought.

I followed him to find a short passageway on the lower decks. He stumbled but politely showed us the seven doors, six of them leading to a grey-carpeted room with two beds—not cots or slabs of foam and blankets, but real mattresses made of springs lined up in something like a long cloth rectangle. I pulled at the thin cotton layers upon them as I helped the others ease Akra’s semi-conscious form onto a waiting bed; onto these soft white things. Nick called them “sheets.”

I couldn’t marvel at the comfort of these rooms for long; I felt another pressing need. I stepped out and faced Capitan Morgan again, speaking slowly and not meeting his eyes. “Thank you for everything, Capitan. But can I ask where our bathroom is?”

His freckled brow furrowed in confusion. “Your bathroom? That's it.” He opened the door behind him and glanced at the tiny toilet and sink. “It's lekker, right? I cleaned these things yesterday...”

Kevin’s footsteps echoed against the steel floor as he appeared behind his friend again, a deep laugh making his shoulders shake in his thin white shirt. “That dof isn't the ‘Cap’n.’”

The other shrugged and rubbed his eyes. “It's true.”

I glanced upward for a moment, but was careful not to stare at them. “Why do you call him that?”

“Because he's gesuip most of the time he's awake.” His friend winced again as Kevin playfully smacked the back of his head. “We love ya, buddy.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He shook his head and smiled down at me. “My name's actually Jordan. It's for the rum. ‘Captain Morgan.’ I practically run on it.”

Nick’s voice behind me was cautious. The other refugees seemed to have settled in. “Alcohol can make a man do some interesting things, my friend. I'd be careful around it if I were you.”

My breath nearly caught in my throat. He doesn’t even know these men. You’ll get yourself shot, Nick…

But Jordan only shrugged. “Eh, don't worry your head 'bout it. I'm a mellow drunk. I ain't gonna klap ya.” His nod and question seemed to be pointed at our entire group. “Everything lekker here?”

I fidgeted slightly, my four-toed feet scraping at the floor. “That...I mean, it's a human bathroom. Where should we go?” 

Jordan yawned. “Ja. That's your bathroom right there.”

“Better than those ones in D-10, ain't it?” Kevin’s stubble-lined face broke into a proud grin.

Nick laughed and thrust his arms in the air triumphantly. “That's a freaking godsend to me, man.”

Of course! They let us use holder things here. Even real toilets. I covered my embarrassment by smiling up at Kevin, widening my eyes in the way that Ryan and Dayna seemed to find charming. “Much better! Thank you.”

“We try.” Kevin knelt down and patted the top of my head, pushing my antennae down and grinning up at his friend. “Befok, bru. It—I mean she's—so cute.”

“Ja, man.” He hiccupped. “Fokkin' adorable.”

Don’t touch me! He rubbed my head as though tousling a human’s hair, and I tried not to wince. You’re not my friend, not Ryan.  “Lekker. Now, I'm goin’ up to yap with the cap. See y'all later.” He stood up again and strode off down the hallway.

I ducked into the bathroom, fighting the irrational urge to scrub my lower antennae clean as soon as I figured out how to use this luxurious metal sink with both working knobs. They didn’t mean any harm. But while the Elder would often smooth back my upper, longer antennae with a gentle hand, pushing down a Poleepkwa’s stiff lower antennae feels something like jamming a fist against a human’s nose.

The mirror was so spotless and intact that it hardly seemed real. I realized that I was glaring at it, and then nearly laughed at myself. I won’t be anyone’s pet, just for some nice kitty litter. And my people won’t be, either. I really should finally see what these bases are like. It was time to explore this luxurious ship, make sure the other refugees were provided for well enough, and tend to Nick and Akra as best I could.

***

The stars are a thousand times more beautiful above a placid sea. It reflects them like a shifting mirror, highlighting every subtle tinge of orange, red, and blue in their light that only seems white beneath layers of pollution and the incandescent glare of cities or searchlights. The tiny room I shared with the Elder had a single wide window, yet it seemed to be a portal to the stars. I felt as though I could reach out and touch them, and find my hand brushing a fleet of motherships—intact, whole, welcoming our little group back as though we had never left. Welcoming Akra, who seemed to cough and waste away with each passing day.

“We’re almost there, Elder. They say we’ll reach the docks by tomorrow morning, and then it’s another day’s ride to the Canada base.” My hand shook as I sat beside him on the bed and pressed a cool rag against the soft flesh of his neck. It seemed waxy, desiccated. “How are you feeling?”

This time, his eyes opened. “I am...weak.”

I grimaced. “I know. Is there anything I can do for you? We’re going to get you some help. They have doctors at the Canada base. Real doctors...”

“They… I do not think they are needed right now. I am more appreciative of your company at the moment, my child.” He coughed again, a weak smile illuminating his aged features.

I rested a hand on the side of his face, my voice nearly a whisper. “Thank you, Elder.” I drew a deep breath.  “It's been the strangest turn of events, us allied with the humans and hoping this new set will be the best for our people. I never thought I'd find myself here...or that I would ever find such a wise Elder calling me his child.”  My joints felt weak suddenly, I rested my head on his dark-plated shoulder. “Thank you for it, Akra. For letting me be...your child.”

 He stroked the back of my head gently, hugging me close. “The pleasure is all mine, Sherry. I could never have dreamed of meeting someone as unique and bold as you. You will become a great leader someday. And you will have the honor and pleasure of teaching your own children the ways of life and wisdom.” He smiled wistfully, touching the side of my face as his red-gold eyes met mine. “Sherry, my child. You cannot imagine the joy of bringing a new life into the world. It is fulfillment like no other...and I know you will make a wonderful parent.”

My voice broke. “You really think...Elder, it means more than anything to hear that.” I held him like a life raft in a storm, slipping away. “No, I can't imagine it. But someday I will! I'll have children that will swim in red, gold, and purple seas and live every day comforted and soothed by a wise overmind that I've never known. I'll have two children.” Tears blurred my vision. “And I'll name them Akra and Nikte. I'll tell them the stories you've told me. Someday...”

He only looked at me silently for a long minute, his eyes searching, then closed his eyes and nodded his head in a makeshift bow. “You show my child and I a great honor, Sherry Johnson. Your father... he will be so proud of you. There could be no better carrier of the beacon. I trust that you will keep it safe, and keep it calling out to the universe until…” He gave several rough coughs. “Until it is no longer needed.” He sighed, his eyes showing the depth of wisdom and the dwindling flame of age. “You are more my family than I had ever hoped for. My teachings, our technology...” Blood sprayed my face as he cleared his lungs, but I hardly noticed. “It is to you that I pass on my lineage, as my energy dissipates into the universe to fuel new life across the stars.”

My jaws clenched as I gripped his hands tight. “This isn't right! It's not right for you to go like this—you're supposed to meet my Father, Christopher! You're supposed to see the stars again!” I sobbed. “This should be happening home and safe, not here.” I gasped for breath. “This world has taken too many of us. I love you, Elder...and I will keep it safe. I'll remember everything you've taught me. But it...this shouldn’t happen!” I fell forward and wrapped my arms around his chest, holding him close.

“I had hoped to see your father's return. I had hoped to see everyone escape from this planet. Hoped...but I knew that I would not.” Tears ran down his face as he hugged me tightly to him. “I love you, Sherry, my child. Let the life of the world carry you to the stars. And do not mourn me, for I will be giving my gift of life to the whole of the universe... in everything I will live... and everything will live... in me...” He broke into a coughing fit and gripped the sides of the bed with dark, trembling hands.

I sobbed as his blood splattered onto my shoulder, yet in his words was a kind of comfort, a soft acknowledgement like the sunset yielding to the shining night sky. “You will!” I cried out, as though his convictions were a physical thing I could grab onto for my own. “In everything. And in my memory. In the stars, in all of it! Thank you, Akra…for it all. For all that you’ve been. My Elder, my parent.”

He coughed  harder,  falling back on the bed. With one shaking hand he reached up to touch my face weakly, eyes meeting my own for only an instant. He managed to gasp out only a few words between coughs. “Sherry...little one....” He grunted. “I love…” A last, hoarse cough. “You.” He closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh as the breath of life left him. The moment seemed so peaceful, as the violent spasms that were rocking his body stopped and he lay quietly on the bed, still now and forever.

To the stars, Elder. To the stars, to everything…be safe and free. I stared, motionless, as visions of the Andromeda Galaxy passed behind my eyes. Time I cannot measure passed in near silence, marked only by the words I whispered over and over like a constant chant. “I love you too, Elder. Live...please. Live among the universe.”

I’ve seen death many times. Yet I wept, staring at my Elder who had irrevocably become a thing, a lifeless collection of cold skin and shell-plate. Wherever his energy was released to…this was a thing that would never again share wisdom, never call me its child. Still it was a thing that we took with us when the cold dawn broke over our harbor and our long voyage ended. It was a thing that some gentle human doctor examined once we reached the Canada base. She told us that nothing could have been done; his liver was a broken mass of scars. His body was filled with heavy metal and a thousand other toxins from living over a quarter century in the slum of District 9.

It was a thing that we built a pyre for, and set it ablaze beneath the starry night sky as I clung to Nick for warmth and hope outside the base in the freezing Yukon. “We will carry on your work, I whispered to it. “Your memory. Your life.”

 

Wild

 

"I'm sorry." Nick clicked again, propping himself up with his intact arm. He’d rested on his makeshift bed for the past few hours as I tended to him, an ineffectual but determined nurse. I could at least keep his prod burns clean and deepest gashes bandaged.

 

“No, I’m sorry.” I bunched up another faded blanket to support his dark-plated head. I wouldn’t let him rise for a moment. “You need better care than I can give you…”

 

“You shouldn’t have to do this for me. Really, I'm sorry."

 

I smiled and rested a hand on his face, just beneath where our cheek-plates protrude to the side like arrowheads. Since Sue’s words hours ago I’d felt as though my chest would swell and burst open with pride. You did it, big brother. Professor… “At the very least I see a different life for us. In time it may prove to be better, but it will certainly be different.” I’d doubted Christian when he’d first spoken those words, months ago. Now even the words different life felt like seeds of potential where I’d thought MNU had irrevocably salted the earth. The Elder is ill, but he’s surviving. Tanukashi may not be better, but there’s a chance. We have a chance. Nick is hurt but I can help him. And I’m not alone…

 

 “Stop saying that,” I ordered, swishing both my antennae forward in the Poleepkwan equivalent of a wink. “Or I'll get Eric to conk you on the head and make you rest.”

 

His eyes widened theatrically. "Yes, mum." I almost turned away before he muttered “Sorry.” under his breath.

 

“Conk!” I tapped my open hand against his blue-painted forehead with barely enough force to crinkle paper.

 

"Oh, no!" Nick fell back slowly, throwing a dramatic arm across his thick-shelled brow. “Cuteness overload…ack!”

 

I tumbled down onto the blankets with him and joined in his clicking laughter; as though he were my little brother and we wrestled playfully on the dirt floor of our shack. Over a year ago…a lifetime. “You're a lot like Oliver, you know.” I grinned. “Well, Oliver mixed with a wild urkbos!”

 

“Umm…what?” Nick cocked his head to the side, mouth-tentacles curved with amusement but confusion in his eyes. Had I just complimented or insulted him?

 

“On our homeworld! It’s a huge lizard, strong and this big…”I poked him in the side playfully. “Never mind. A lion! You’re like a lion, Nick. A wounded lion...”

 

He puffed out his chest. "I am the king of the wild!" I tucked the blanket back around him—lion or not, he needed to rest. "I might be wounded, but I'm still here. It's fun just playing around sometimes."

 

“It is. I'd…forgotten about that. I guess that's why you're like Oliver.” I rolled from the makeshift bed and handed him the best meat I’d been able to find in our supplies, a six-pound leg of ham. “Here, Mr. King.”

 

Nick gave a mischievous chuckle and patted my head. "Oh, I could get used to that name.” He dug into the meat gratefully. “Thanks for helping me out these days. How've the other kids been?"

 

“Honestly...I'm not sure.” I knelt in the dirt and picked up my alcohol-soaked rag again, cleaning his leg wound as gently as I could. How could I explain that the kids are just…there? They’re not my Elder, struggling for every breath. They’re not Ryan, half a world away. And they’re not you. The sound of their voices doesn’t keep the ghost of Douglas’ hands away. You do.

 

 “Jared seems all right.” I glanced away, flicking my antennae back in a blush. “I haven't thought about them as much as I should. I've thought of you...and since they took you, Christian made it. He gave his speech...” I met his eyes, my words coming out in a rush. “And it was amazing. It worked, Nick. Sue just told me. Tanukashi will take over within a month!”

 

"Ha!” His strong mandibles tore into the meat, chewing with obvious relish. “I'd expect nothing less from my mentor! If there was anyone who could get it done, it would be him."  

 

I inexpertly wrapped a fresh bandage around his lower calf. The bullet had torn through his plating and been carelessly yanked from the flesh beneath with some kind of blunt tool. I shuddered at the odor of infection, but at least it seemed to be lessening. “I didn't know the Professor was your mentor. The bases must be pretty amazing, if they make teachers like you both.”

 

He settled back, pressing his hands together as though making a pledge. "They are, and the people who run them are equally amazing. Come see them with us. We can go anytime." 

 

“You need to go to one of the bases. I mean, they can do a better job getting you healed than I can.” I paused thoughtfully, resting a tiny hand against the bandage. “And Akra's getting worse...he should go too. I didn't think I'd ever leave D-10, but if we're trying to make this place more like those places, maybe I should actually see one of them. But I will come back.”

 

Nick raised his leg and smiled at my handiwork. "Looks perfectly taken care of to me." His mouth-tentacles curved upwards in a grin. "So, it's decided then! We'll head to the Canada base by the end of the week. You'll love it so much, you'll forget about this place!"

 

I narrowed my eyes. “I'll think about it. And I won't—“ I stood up and stomped my foot, then glanced aside in embarrassment. “Forget about this place. At least not until it's empty, and all of our people are free.”

 

"Yeah, I saw that one coming.” He set down the leg of ham and threw up his hands with exaggerated frustration."Still worth a try, right? At least you're considering it." Nick’s laugh felt warm and unfamiliar to me, like the noon desert sun when one first steps out of the tunnels. "I'll take all the victories I can get over your stubbornness."

 

“Yes, I’m stubborn.” I wiggled my mouth-tentacles at him good-naturedly, and then stood up with my hands on my green-plated hips. “Now I may just be a Poleepkwan Princess while you’re Mr. King of the Wild,” I nodded towards the remaining meat. He must be starving—had they fed him at all? “But I insist that you eat that.”

 

“Ordering your teacher around isn’t going to earn you a good grade, you know.” He laughed, but bit off another generous chunk. “Though, this is some damned good food.”

 

His head cocked to the side, bright blue eyes suddenly thoughtful. "Let's compromise. What if we both go to the Canada base? I'd get my non-needed treatment and you'd get to check the place out."

 

“You need your treatment a lot more than I need to ‘check the place out.’” I waved my hand, brushing the idea away.

 

"So, it's a deal, then?" He beamed and clapped his hands together. "Awesome!"

 

Even my sub-arms rose up as though warding off the idea. “You're not saying...you mean that you won't go unless I do?”

 

He tried to cover his triumphant grin. "Well, the only reason I have to go to one of the bases is to give you the grand tour."

 

I clenched my jaws, burying my face in my hands. “You're incorrigible.” A moment of puzzlement passed over his face at the word. Of course—he didn’t know my Father. You don’t know how brilliantly he could speak when he gave us lessons in writing and technology. Though he used the same words on his blog. And you don’t know that I spent every silent day in that one meter by one meter box repeating his words in my head; reliving each moment of his wisdom. Father’s vocabulary is the least I’ve gained from him. Memories of him carried me through.

 

“You have to go because you're hurt...” The shadow of a tear formed behind my eyes and I glanced downward, away from him. “You almost died to protect me. It's my...” I bit back the word “fault.” No, Douglas’ fault. But still…

 

The hand that he rested on my shoulder had only two fingers remaining, but his clicks were quick and cheerful. "Hey now, enough of that. Who was the one who called me a lion? Lions don't die so easily, you know. I'll be up on my feet in no time. Just see, they can't keep me down."

 

“All right, we'll make a deal.” I sighed. “Our people should know about the takeover. I'll leave for the base after I make a transmission to the District—“

 

Nick threw both arms upward as though he’d bet with the Nigerians on the winning scorpion-rat. "Woo-hoo! I wins!"

 

I lay my hands on his wounded arms and gently lowered them. “I wasn't finished!”

 

"Aww, that damn fine print!"

 

I shook my head. Why does he talk so much like a human? It must be from living at one of the bases for so long. “And I'll stay until you're better. I will come back when Tanukashi takes over. There’s a lot to be done. I'll return here through the front door—I would like it if you'd come with me. If you're up to it I mean.”

 

He grinned. "You know I'll come with. After all, the princess needs her bodyguard. Those politicians better hurry up with the paperwork, or they'll have me to deal with." He paused, his neck-folds widening in a yawn. “‘Scuse me.”

 

I reached for an extra blanket and pulled it over him. It was maybe eleven at night, or one. I couldn’t remember last time I’d bothered to check, and the tunnels were always dark. “Excuse you for being so sneaky, maybe.” I smiled, wiggling my mouth-tentacles at him. “Now get some rest, all right? It's the least you've earned.”

 

Nick mimicked a slight bow. “Yes ma’am.” He rearranged the pillows and laid his head down, shifting slightly on his side to face me. "You should get some rest yourself." He flashed a quick smile. "I saw you nodding off before. You ain't that slick, little lady." 

 

“’Little lady?’” I rolled my eyes. “But all right. My cot is right over there--if you need anything, I'm here.”

 

"Hey, I'm pretty sure that was my line. As soon as I wake up, you're getting sued." He closed his eyes. "Sleep tight, Sherry."

 

I rested a tiny hand on his head for a moment before walking to my own cot. A faint burst of gunfire echoed above us, ubiquitous and usually ignored. Yet I flinched. Don’t be too happy. The ratta-tatta noise seemed to persist. Don’t forget your duties. Ratta-tatta. Douglas. Violence. They’re shooting our people… Ratta-tatta. This has to be stopped.

 

  My smile faded as I crawled beneath rumpled blankets and settled into my cot, but I extinguished the light and kept my voice upbeat. “You too, Mr. King.”

 

 

 

How do I describe what the world above us became? I was naïve, hopelessly a child. I think I expected the black-clothed, faceless guards of District 10 to patrol, shoot, and prod like mindless wind-up toys until the day Tanukashi replaced them with a newer, kinder, sleeker model. But before two days had passed their regulation vests and helmets lay discarded in the dust like spent cocoons. At least among those who cared to appear at all. I’d never seen an entire squad of holders sitting in a tent with decks of cards and open flasks, and patrols had never been so lax. Apparently when humans know they're going to be out of a job soon, they become as "aimless" as they accuse Poleepkwa of being.

 

This was indirectly our doing, and our advantage at first. Nick and Akra had to rest but Eric and I ran about aboveground, handing out all the food and medical supplies we could give. Jared joined us, by my side as soon as he was released from school for the day. By the end of this month… I thought, staring at the marks of the cattle prod on his back though he dismissed them. He’ll still have to go. But to a better school. We’ll make it better.

 

 Faces blurred together—at some point I reached up and handed a heavy package of biltong to a red-painted Poleepkwa. Suspicion sharpened his cold eyes.

 

“Why?” He clicked, making no move to take it.

 

“Because you’re hungry.” I said simply. “And I have food.”

 

“Troublemaker? What do you want?” His antennae swished with confusion, glancing about for a guard who wasn’t there. We moved from one sector to the next, wherever there seemed to be the most Poleepkwa and fewest guards. The ones assigned to patrol here were probably napping in their truck…

 

“Nothing.” I shook my head. We recruited carefully for our schools—I could hardly go around telling everyone that I was part of some nebulous resistance. Even now. “Here, just take—“

 

A rapid burst of gunfire tore through the air only a few meters away. In the slum of District 9 it had long since become instinct—I fell flat into the dirt and rolled into the half-shade of the tent beside me. It was no more protection than a wisp of cloud, but could at least keep me hidden. Jared, where are you?

 

Bullets followed by human laughter were nothing unusual, but this man’s laugh was oddly slurred. “Are you shooting at anything?”

 

“No.”

 

"Okay then.” I glanced up. The human’s black-clad back was turned to me. Just a tiny Prawn in a dirt-streaked tent—nothing suspicious, nothing to notice. He waved a thick, dark brown hand at the other, and then at some white cylinder in the distance. Filthy bits of paper blew through the air; a pile of trash burned a few paces from the spot his filthy hands pointed to. “Hey man, look at that propane tank. Bet I can pop a round in it from here."

 

"...fokkin' A." The shorter, paler human’s exclamation was punctuated by a belch.

 

Bang! A single shot did nothing. He shoved the small black handgun into its holster at his belt, hand clumsy with inebriation and sweat-soaked in the desert afternoon. It seemed to take long minutes before he was able to aim his heavier machine gun and fire.

 

I heard a dozen rounds hit dirt and metal before he stopped. “Fok, man, nothing. Did I hit it…?” He stepped a few paces closer before fire seemed to leap from trash to tank; the small cylinder burst and flame blossomed skyward. "Fok yeah!” They shouted. “Woohoo!"

 

I winced, crawling and finally sprinting from the tent. We’ve got to get out of here, to the opposite end of D-10. Any human thing destroyed…Poleepkwa always get blamed.

 

A third, lower voice barked at them. "What the fok, man? You almost burned my fokkin' face! I got a job interview next week..."

 

"Seriously, man? Damn, you think ahead." He hiccupped.

 

My antennae perked up at the sound of a familiar whistle. It’s not easy to produce that noise with our mouth-tentacles. I nearly smiled. But Jared learned it from our Professor…

 

 I ran to the sound and found Jared kneeling in the dirt, one arm around the forest green-plated shoulder of a wounded older Poleepkwa. Eric stood a few steps away cradling a trembling little one to his chest. My mind seemed to stutter, taking a moment to grasp the scene before me—cots lay bent and thrown against the white sides of the tent, one crimson-smeared. Blood still trickled from tent walls into the dust…the odor was human.

 

“Sherry!” Jared looked up at me, his face exultant. “Did you see that?”

 

“Wha…”

 

“These two bobbleheads just started prodding him out of nowhere.” Jared tipped his head towards the green-plated one. I’d occasionally heard the children use that name for the guards, probably after their round helmets. “They were going crazy, one of ‘em grabbed at his belt like Douglas—then the others tore ‘em apart! They were screaming at their radios but no one showed up.”

 

My head spun as I helped him to his feet. “What’s your name? Are you all right?”

 

“Steven. My knee.” He grunted, leaning heavily on his left side. “They shot my knee…” His antennae twitched in amazement. “I don’t even know those guys. They just surrounded the pigs and tore them to bite-sized—“ He paused and wiped the blood from his eyes.

 

I glanced up at Eric. “We should get one last group out before the switch. They’ll leave with Nick and me.”

 

He nodded. “It’ll be harder without our fearless leader.” I smiled at his affectionate name for Ryan. “But we can get another dozen out.” His words were low and sparse, almost whispering to this stranger that we could help him, take him to a safe place. I almost didn’t hear the incredulous exchange as we zigzagged through the orderly tent rows towards our hidden tunnel entrance. Two more lives were saved, and another nine joined them in the tunnels over the next three days. Father had always tried to shield us from the worst of the chaos—riots in the District, gangsters with their indiscriminate gunfire. Now, those of us who could seemed to rush towards the growing turmoil with open arms.

 

Preparing to leave had my stomach in knots. It was better; rules unenforced and grunts not caring. Or violent, and more vulnerable than they knew. But how could I leave now, with so much happening? Yet Akra’s every cough and Nick’s brave smiles were a constant reminder. They needed help. And I would return.

 

I sat before one of the Elder’s computer screens, preparing my transmission to the District when a video call from Japan interrupted me.  Ryan’s bright, freckled human face hadn’t changed, and he greeted me with a smile that made me want to hug the screen.

 

“Heya kiddo, how are you doing?”

 

“I'm doing all right.” I switched on the webcam and waved at it. “I've missed you.”

 

“Yeah?” He tipped back his brown wool hat.  “So did MNU.”

 

I laughed. “And I'm sure their higher-ups are kicking themselves in their fragile human heads for it.”

 

“Hey, we humans aren't nearly as fragile as you think.” He pointed at his chest with a soft half-smile. “It's not our fault our planet is smaller than your homeworld.”

 

I wiggled my mouth-tentacles at him. “Excuses, excuses.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. How is everyone? Jared, Nick, the schools?”

 

“Everyone?”  I breathed deep. “Nick is back. You've probably heard.”

 

His young countenance darkened, red eyebrows drawing together. “I did hear. I talked to Kurt about it, actually. He seemed rather… put out. But I’m glad we didn't have to kill him.”

 

My eyes widened, but I rested my hands gently on the desk. “What did he say?”

 

“If it wasn't for Christian and I, Nick would probably be dead by now, and he'd still be chasing the schools.”

 

My jaw tensed. Could he have kept Nick alive on purpose? To bargain with us, in case the UIO actually...I pushed the thought away. “That's what he said? Well, he was right about that at least.” I sighed. “Nick is amazing...so brave, he's survived this long.”

 

He tipped back the brim of his hat. “Nick is beyond amazing, leaps straight past wondrous, and is more along the lines of fantastically glorious.” I burst out laughing.  “While I was away, he kept you safe at the ultimate cost to himself. He willingly put himself near certain death, to save you.”

 

“I know.  And he’s hurt so bad...there's no way I could ever repay him.” I shook my head as though to clear it, antennae flicking back with slight embarrassment.  “He's pretty persuasive too. He needs medical care at one of the bases. And he convinced me to go with him--just for a short time, that is. Akra needs medical care too…”

 

My big brother was taken aback. That is, he startled backwards in his chair, saucer-eyed. “You're... going to America?”

 

“Yes. Well, to Canada.”

 

“Akra has decided to go as well?” His tone was more formal than I’d ever heard it—sheer shock maybe?

 

“Yes. We're NOT leaving D-10 for good. It's just that Nick and Akra...well, they're both ill. And both stubborn—they won't leave me.” I stared down at my feet. “I...I hope you're not disappointed.”

 

“Disappointed?”  He mimed applause, grinning widely. “Little one, I’ve been trying to get you to go to America since the first time we talked. You’ll be much safer there than you have ever been in your entire lifetime.”

 

“I know!” I pouted slightly.  “But I said I couldn't leave. Not with all of my people trapped here. And this is just temporary, you know. I can't be ‘safer’ forever.” 

 

He shook his head, a sad tinge to his boyish smile. “I know you won't. But, I’ll happily take as much time as we can get. I wish I could join you there…but before Tanukashi moves into D-10, Christian and I will be making our own trip to the West. We'll be stopping by the Nevada base, and then make a stop in Texas. It's been a while since he's seen Brandon.  We'll meet you in South Africa, with Tanukashi.”

I swallowed a lump of disappointment in my throat. Of course I miss him. But he’s doing something so important… “All right.” I nodded at the screen. “Just to warn you, I have a million questions. About Tanukashi, about the speech...when I see you again, you won't be able to get rid of me.”

“I never planned to.”

“I love you, big brother.” My soft smile mirrored his own. “Things are really crazy here...but I know you and Christian have done something amazing.”

“Just you wait; it's going to get even crazier.” He glanced off-screen. “But, duty calls. Take care of yourself, okay?”

My eyes widened, but I held my shoulders high and proud. “Well, I can handle it. You too.” I waved at the screen for a moment before it went dark, and then stood up. It was nearly time.

I switched on a short row of screens beside the transmitters. MNU didn’t have cameras everywhere, of course, but a few places near the factories and around the perimeter. I could see my people, at least some of them, as they heard my words. By now I knew the steps by heart, what to push and power on before my young voice echoed through MNU’s speakers, across half-empty factories and abandoned lookout posts.

“My people!” The sound rang clear, unimpeded. “You feel the chain about your neck released, the holders’ grip is slipping. The worst among them grow even more violent, while the others lie about aimlessly or destroy like careless children. Yet none of them will tell you that their time draws to a close! That our own people have ripped loose their stranglehold on this place, and soon another company will replace them! Tanukashi, another hope! Though we must not trust blindly, these are people who will give us a chance to organize, to govern ourselves! What you see about you is what Father once called ‘anarchy,’ but we are capable of so much more! It was our unity we lost with the hive mind, our guidance! We must prepare to—“

I stopped. The screens before me did not reveal cheering and rapt attention, mixed with the smattering of indifference I had seen before. Deep, throaty bellows of annoyance greeted my words, combined with grimaces on half a dozen displays. My eyes were drawn to a grainy video feed where a red-painted Poleepkwa approached both camera and speaker, appearing to grow larger in my view. He climbed the lookout tower hand-over-hand until it was within his reach and clamped his jaws around the base of the speaker, hands and strong mandibles cracking its plastic case and finally ripping it free. His triumphant howl was echoed by a dozen beneath him on the ground. As for me, I was struck silent.

My mind felt as though it were trying to grasp something slick; some cold fear that it recoiled at and let squirm away. “You have not had time,” The Professor had said once. “To see how aimless the masses are.”

Not their fault!  I thought, keeping my posture straight and resolute. None of this is their fault! I can’t blame my own people. Even those teachers with their prods, I can’t blame them…I shuddered at the memory.

 I should have known it. I told myself over and over again. They just got a taste of freedom, and I was trying to order everyone around. I switched the microphone back on and fairly bellowed into it.

“Fine. Let the District have its ‘anarchy. Tear down the walls of MNU's prison, rip their vicious factories to shreds. Soon, we'll rebuild this place! The old is being burned away, and at long last a new age us upon us."

 

Together

I can't believe I'm doing this. I straightened up, realizing that my back was bent forward like a beaten animal. But Father would.  I told myself. Father would.

Red-brown earthen walls seemed heavy and dark around us—two Poleepkwa and one slim, determined human facing a single computer screen. I stared down at my clenched hands in my lap as the microphone was switched on, the speakers crackled to life. Dayna’s shabby wooden chair creaked as she settled in beside me. Eric stood at our backs, seeming as quiet and strong as the wooden supports that kept our tunnels from collapsing.  

Father made a deal with the MNU man who burned Poleepkwan children and joked about popcorn. Even my breath felt restrained, thick. With the man who betrayed him a half dozen times over before growing a spine...and becoming a Poleepkwa. “You go home, I get fixed.” But he did it to rescue our people. I laid a hand flat on the splintered wooden desk,  fingers splayed as though I held a peace offering; but fingertips clenched downwards as though I prepared to release it to unworthy hands.  People don’t get what they deserve, or deserve what they get…right, Father? You'd understand why we have to negotiate, not punish. 

The audio connection was made, yet suddenly no one could find a voice. Kurt broke the silence, his casual human tone tinged with mild annoyance. “Is there a reason why you've contacted me, or are you just here to waste time?”

Dayna leaned against her makeshift desk, delicate fingers interlacing. “Kurt, we want to make a deal with you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” I nearly spat out the word, clenching my jaws so tight they felt ready to splinter and crack. “And if you watch the news, you should take it.”

“What 'deal' do you have in mind?” I could almost hear the bored smile in his voice.

“Unless you've been living under a rock,” Dayna spoke calmly, yet her tense fingertips tapped against each other. “You know the UIO is pressuring South Africa to drop MNU's contract and hand it over to Tanukashi, right?”

He made a noncommittal noise. “Of course.”

“You take a US job with Tanukashi.” She blinked once, forming her soft, round features into a neutral mask. “Hand over Nick, and a list with the names of any known torturers and traffickers. In return, you won’t be prosecuted when the takeover happens. It may just be for 'animal cruelty,' but your family would know what you've done. We have you on video.” Her words were direct, yet with a tone so polite I stared at her in surprise.

Nearly a minute passed, marked only by Kurt’s steady breathing. His voice seemed thoughtful. “A job at Tanukashi. That wouldn't make my superiors very happy.”

 “What's more important?” Dayna raised a slender brown eyebrow. “Your superiors or the 'blissful ignorance' of your family?”

Kurt chuckled a bit, but didn’t sound pleased. “Trust me, if my superiors caught wind of this, it wouldn't be a question of bliss—“

“Trust me, they'll have more important things to worry about.” I broke in. I spoke as though holding my voice back on a straining leash. “They can't really reach you in the States. That’s where our bases are, remember?” My clicking voice dripped with sarcasm. “Look, I'd love to get you in trouble with them. But Nick is more important.” Michael, I thought to myself. I'm so sorry. I just can't let them have Nick. I can't.

“Touching.” Kurt said dryly. He paused. “It would be tough, getting your friend out of the interrogation compound.” 

Eric made a rude, disgusted grunt. “Why are you talking to him? It’s obviously not going to get us anywhere.” I turned to see his eyes closed, mouth-tentacles drooping.

Dayna brushed back a strand of her straight chestnut hair, eyes shining with determination. “If his priorities are straight, it will get us to a lot of places.”

“So much for all his, 'I do this for my family.'” I clicked sharply.

“If you stopped arguing for a few moments,” Kurt sighed. “I would be able to say that I'll take the deal.”

Excitement widened her round blue eyes even further, astonished petal-pink lips nearly agape. Her voice waved as she struggled to keep it level. “R-really?” I grinned, but clamped my hands over my mouth.

“Yes. If it helps my family...” Kurt coughed. “It's worth it.” His voice became flat, stoic. “It will be difficult, but I'll get him out of there.”

“Kurt, if you provide us with what we want,” Dayna nodded, her rosy lips curving into a slight smile. “Then we'll make sure nothing bad happens.”

“You better.” Kurt’s tone darkened appreciably. “MNU doesn't take kindly to people walking out on them, never mind breaking their prisoners out of detainment.”

“I don't think they'll be that mad. People leave jobs all the time and they don't have to know where you're going, right?” She chuckled, quiet confidence in every line of her shoulders.

Eric’s harsh clicks broke in. “Weren't you already offered asylum?”

Kurt paused, and then sounded slightly uneasy. “Yes. MNU wasn't in such a...well; let's just say that things are changing a bit, as you said.” He stopped, his chair making a shifting sound as though he struggled in vain for comfort. “Sherry, I know you've gloating over this. You might as well speak.”

“I wasn't gloating.” I breathed slowly. “This…it's not exactly success.” My chest smoldered at the thought of rewarding this man, but seemed to incinerate itself at the idea of leaving anyone—particularly my rescuer, my friend—in his hands. “How...how is Nick?”

“Depends on what you mean.” Kurt said calmly.

His casual indifference jabbed at me like a physical blow. I ground my fists against the splintered crate-desk before me as though it were a poor imitation of his face. “If you think you can return him dead, dying, or crippled, and get us to fill our end of the bargain...” I hissed. “We won't.” 

Kurt spoke as though referring to something slightly disgusting, but inconsequential. “He's not dead yet.”  

“I'd like to return the favor, if he kills him.” Eric’s quiet voice was nearly a growl.

“Are you…” Dayna paused for only an instant. “Leading the interrogation?”

“Yes.”

“The interrogation is over, Kurt.” I snapped. “Stop hurting him. Just figure out how to get him out, or your family...”

His tone hardened. “Don't continue that sentence.”

I gave a slight smirk, my mouth-tentacles curving upwards. “I was going to say, 'finds out.' But all right.”

Kurt sighed. “I should be able to get Nick to you in the next couple of days.”

“Tomorrow.” I clicked.

“Eh, not that small of a timeframe.” Dayna shook her head. “Just keep us constantly updated. Remember, no Nick, and no guarantee of that lovely Tanukashi job and of your family not knowing the things that have gone on. I hate to rub this in your face constantly, but if it's what we have to do then so be it.”

“Understandable. I'll contact Sherry when I've got him.”

“Contact us both.” She spoke firmly, as though concluding an ordinary business deal. “Come alone, and me and Sherry will meet you there. Eric will drive the truck. We'll give you the general area and give you the co-ordinates at the last minute. Also don't forget that list you promised—that's part of our deal too.”

“I won't forget.” He shut off the audio feed.

Dayna addressed the microphone that could no longer hear her, cocking her head to the side with a cheerful smile. “Have a fantastic day!”

I let myself laugh and release a deep, heavy sigh of relief.

She turned to face me, her pale freckled brow furrowing. “You know, I think if this MNU business and the stuff with the Poleepkwa never happened, he'd have been a pretty all right guy.”

“Are you serious?” My eyes widened, antennae swishing in an incredulous gesture. “He's tortured children, he...”

She scratched at her arms—each fingernail digging into the opposite forearm as her face tensed with nervousness. “Well, if people and Poleepkwa got along from the beginning and they had equal rights, he would have been one of those people that works really hard to keep his family happy.” She shrugged. “Eh, I don't know. Maybe I'm weird.”

 

Comprehension halted my breath for a moment. Her arms…dotted with fading scars and coin-sized scabs like cigar burns. Among our people it might be a sign of factory conditions or, rarely, surviving brutal experiments. For Dayna—whatever she had survived, this was how she handled it. It was a nervous, injurious, scratching habit, like my own obsessive working and refusing to sleep. Whatever she said, I couldn’t be angry with her.

 

“Maybe you are.” I smiled slightly, angling my head down and wide eyes upward in a way that humans seemed to find adorable. “But you're in good company.”

 

Dayna returned my smile, her shoulders visibly unclenching. “But I do know that what he's done is absolutely wrong, and I can't like him at all. It just happens we both have uses for each other. I hate to see the asshole get away with it, but...” She bit her lip.

 

“I know.” I glanced downward at the dirt. “Nick...he's worth it. He's worth more than Kurt, whether Kurt's an asshole or a monster or...” I paused, shaking my head. It doesn’t matter now. I told myself. Don’t dwell on it. “I'm sorry, never mind. I just hope Nick's okay, as okay as he can be.”

 

“Don't apologize, I understand.” She rested a slender white hand on my hard-plated shoulder. “And I hope he's okay too.”

 

“Now,” I took three deep, calming breaths and laid my hand atop hers, squeezing it softly. “I guess we wait.”

 

 

 

I wish I could say that I waited patiently; that Eric, Sue, the Elder and I managed the tent schools well enough on our own. I told the others that I knew enough of our own history to help teach it, but teaching itself was foreign to me. My stomach tightened as I stepped into the barrel-shaped tent that would be our hidden classroom for the night, but we took precautions this time. Jared and three of his friends stood in the darkness outside, ready to whistle at the first sight of guards and send us scattering in an instant.

 

Still, I faltered when it came my turn to address the wide-eyed cluster of Poleepkwan children. "Can one of you…” I coughed, mandibles twitching uncertainly. “Tell me where our people are from?"

 

"Here." A little one with forest-green plates pointed at the dirt floor beneath her.

 

I nodded. “You were hatched here, yes. But if we're from here, why do they call us aliens?”

 

She paused, her voice growing tentative. "Because we're different. That's what an alien is, right?" 

 

“We are different—“

 

“And...and that's why MNU keeps us away. From the humans. We're different.” Her back straightened, tone gaining confidence. “'Keeping humans safe by keeping non-humans separate.’”

 

“Different isn't a reason to keep someone away.” I shook my head, antennae flicking with earnestness. “Different doesn't mean dangerous. Have you ever hurt a human?”

 

"...no.” She narrowed her eyes. “But...there are others who do..."

 

“Yes. Including humans themselves. They fight in gangs, they shoot each other, and that doesn’t mean they should all be kept in a camp—“

 

An older child with tan, red-dappled plates nodded; his green eyes downcast. "So...that's why."

“Why what?”

 

He fidgeted, holding his hands out slightly. "Well...some do, so...how can you tell who else will? My parent--" He swallowed, then continued in a low voice. "My parent always said to keep away from every human. Just be careful with everyone...you don't know who's going to hurt you."

 

I squared my shoulders, aiming my words and gaze at each of the dozen or so children before me. “Yes, you do. There is a way to know who's going to hurt you—by what they've done. The humans that you've met here are the worst of their species, because it's their job to be. They are the ones who've convinced the others that we're all dangerous, from the wisest Elder to the smallest child like you. But outside of these fences there are others, humans who can look past the differences.”

 

His eyes narrowed. "How do you know?"

 

I paused, and then tapped the side of my head. “Because I've seen things MNU doesn't want any of us to see. Both us and humans have technology that shows us what this world is like outside of these fences, and what the universe is like beyond this world.”

 

The one with forest-green plates spoke again. “It's cold and black, isn't it? Why would you want to go there?”

 

My mouth-tentacles curved upward a little. “Are the stars cold and black?”

 

“Well...no.” She gazed down at the dirt, pushing a pebble around with a thin, pointed finger. “But they're so tiny...”

 

I smiled. “They only look tiny from here. They can be as big as the sun, and some are bigger.” 

 

Her eyes widened, antennae swishing with confusion. “The sun is small too. It's hot and bright, but it's only...” She formed a circle with her hands. “This big. Maybe a little bigger...” Her thin fingers spread further apart. “Like that.”

 

I shook my head, feeling like a poor imitation of our distant Professor. Would he laugh at me, if he saw me now? “It doesn't matter, really, how big it is. The sun is bright and warm, and the universe is full of warm, bright suns like it. Some of these suns have planets—a few like this one, most of them not like it at all. And one of those planets is ours—our homeworld, where there is no one who will hurt us or keep us behind barbed-wire fences.”

 

The red-dappled boy looked at me as though I were spouting nonsense. “Well…yeah. There's nobody there.”

 

“Who told you that?”

 

“My teacher.”

 

I folded my tense hands together. “The teachers have told you a lot of things. The teachers won't tell you the truth—that we aren't dangerous Prawns, we're no more dangerous than the humans themselves. That we are capable of great things...that home is alive and waiting for us. That we are heirs to the universe.”

 

I gestured upwards, towards the sky. “They tell you our homeworld was wiped out by a disease and that our mothership wasn't ours, even though we're the only ones able to operate it. And they'll tell you that the one who took it back to our homeworld was only escaping this place, not getting help. But I know that home is alive, and that he is coming back to take us all to a world of freedom. That when he comes back, anyone who wishes to explore those stars and other worlds will be able to. I know this is true. Because Christopher Johnson, who left for our homeworld, is my Father.”

 

I would like to say that this convinced everyone, but I know that it wasn’t our most successful class. Without showing the children our forbidden technology, how does one truly disprove the story that MNU has told them a thousand times, emphasized with prods and fists?

 

I’d heard from a dozen children, recited like a tedious recipe. "Our planet was wiped out by the red sickness. Only about a million Prawns survived, but a wise, powerful, advanced species found us and let us work for them on their spaceship. That worked out fine for a while, but we infected them too. When they all died we didn't know how to operate the ship, so we wound up shipwrecked and starving above Earth. We would have all starved to death, except Multinational United took care of us."

 

When the class ended and our small group returned to the tunnels, my neck-folds widened in a sigh of relief. No guards, no Douglas…safe now. Then the moist, metallic scent of bile made me stagger a step back and run to Akra’s alcove.

 

"Elder,” I stepped in to find him lying on his side. His mouth-tentacles seemed to be soaked in blood and other, darker fluids. “Are you…” I swallowed hard, wiping them away with a threadbare rag. “All right?"

 

I stood within arm’s reach, but his eyes seemed glazed and dim, unable to recognize me. "Little one." He blinked and reached out a hand, grabbing for a moment at the air before I took his hand in mine. “No, Nikte. Don't try to run the stabilizer control by yourself..."

 

"Akra? I don't know what you...oh." I remembered his story, his lost child as I laid a gentle hand on his strong, dark neck. "I'm not Nikte. I'm Sherry. You're not dreaming..." Breath left me as I felt the skin between his shell-plates; hot and waxen to the touch.

 

"Sherry..." He gave a soft smile, eyes gazing at nothing in the distance. "She is as much my child as I could ever ask for. I try to teach her..."

 

I grabbed a wet cloth and sponged down his face. “No, Elder, it's me.” 

 

“Yes, there you are.” He shook his head as though attempting to clear it of detritus. “Have you been practicing your centering exercises? Our lives...this world is full of chaos. But when we let the chaos be around us, instead of be us, then we can find a measure of peace." He winced, gripping at his lower abdomen.

 

My hand followed his and I gasped. Something was swollen, pushing against the plates just above his sub-arms. "Ah! Your illness, you..." My mind raced as I rummaged through a box beside his makeshift bed. My understanding of anatomy, human or Poleepkwan, was next to none. It’s not his stomach…his liver? I handed him two thick white capsules. “Here, take these for the pain.” 

 

“It's so...dark.” He blinked, glancing about as he swallowed them.

 

"Yes, Elder. Now lay down and rest, you’re not well…“

 

Dayna’s round, eager countenance caught my eye as she stepped through the earthen doorway. “Nick.” She breathed as Akra’s exhausted eyes closed, his ragged breathing assumed the even pattern of sleep. “Kurt got him out. It’s time to go.”

 

 

A piece of paper, tied down in a fierce wind, twisting about. In his silence, Eric had known me. He'd been right. Yet as we drove through the moonless desert night, windows open only the balmy breeze that rushed past our faces, even that string seemed to be gone.

 

I was a kite lost to the wind, clinging to the sticky leather bench seat of Dayna's van so that I did not drift through the open window and dissipate into the gentle desert twilight. The Elder was fading, I couldn't deny it. Akra was slipping from my hands like mist; and my silent, saving Eric had cosigned himself to his life here in whatever this District—Awshitz, Sanctuary Park, the Stain—became. Ryan was a continent away with our "Professor..." they met, they spoke, and they fought for our people in distant Tokyo where we had never been seen. And in my heart I was alone. Alone, as our people should never be...With the hive mind, I thought, it's like a parent is always there. Fear can't touch you, because it's like the hug that never ends.

 

I shook my head angrily. 2.5 million Poleepkwa depended on our actions, our hope—yet at this instant I could only see the glare of headlights that meant an approaching MNU cassiper...that meant Kurt approached with Nick. Nick, my friend...the broken hands that waited to take my own.

 

The white armored truck stopped a few meters before us, lit only by the dimming sky and our own headlights that shone at each other like boxers squaring to fight. There was more than enough light for me to recognize the face I'd never seen in person as he opened the high, thick driver's side door and stepped out, black boots sinking in to the desert sand.

 

Kurt. Waves of loose, tousled brown hair hung past his ears, not quite brushing his bloodstained shirt collar. It seemed that his face could only be casual--the brown shadow of a beard stubble that lined his face did not seem decrepit, only a careless accent to his strong jaw and clear, unlined countenance. I followed Dayna as she stepped out of our own van, my small four-toed feet sinking into sand that still held the heat of this South African autumn sun. We’d agreed that Eric would wait in the van, ARC gun at the ready in case Kurt decided to surprise us.

 

In my mind that man had grown to something taller, more sinister, some towering human thing that would greet me with a proud laugh and a spinning drill. Yet his posture was loose and relaxed, his tone matter-of-fact as his eyes moved from my face to Dayna's and back again. "Hello." He said calmly.

 

My fists clenched. "Let us see him." Even now, with my legs healed, I couldn't have crossed the distance between us in a single step. If not for Nick, I would have tried.

 

Kurt's tone seemed guarded, but without anger. "Not until you carry out your end of the deal."

 

"We aren't doing anything until we see Nick." Dayna crossed her slender, scarred arms over her chest, feet planted firmly apart in the sand.

 

He sighed. "On another day I'd let us be at an impasse, but fine."

 

"On another day," I mimicked his words. "I'd rip your throat out in front of your children, and we still wouldn't be even. So just let my friend go, you son of a—"

 

He tensed slightly at the mention of his children, but flashed me the proud half-smile that had been his trademark while murdering eight Poleepkwan refugees. "You'd have to jump."

 

He moved warily, always facing us, as he went around to open the back of the truck. They both seemed only shadows, yet I could see him yank Nick out by pulling on a long chain about his neck, a chain that reached down to cuff his wrists behind his narrow, tube-like Poleepkwan waist. I felt a dim flash of surprise—usually they only bound us with plastic zip-tie cuffs. Apparently the "dangerous Prawn" who'd snapped Douglas' neck warranted some extra restraint. 

 

"Come on." Kurt commanded, pulling my stumbling friend through the shadows behind him. He faced us, his small human eyes like two hard stones. "He's here. Now where's your end of the deal?"

 

Dayna stepped a few paces forward, producing an envelope from the back pocket of her tattered jeans and handing it to him. "Here are your papers. And four tickets to the US for you and your family."

 

He opened the envelope, quickly checking that its contents were genuine before handing her a packet of papers in return—the promised names, along with what they had done. "All right."

 

"When you get there go to the Tanukashi office and tell them who you are." Her voice seemed the very epitome of sensible; soft and direct. "I've informed them to be expecting you." Kurt gave a slight nod.

 

"Aw, you don't want me to come along?" Nick clicked in a strong, sarcastic voice. He stepped forward on unsteady legs, though he was still half in the shadows behind his human jailor, his deliverer. "I'd love to meet the family" 

 

"Shut it and walk." Kurt turned about and pulled on the chain, then shoved him forward--towards me, and finally into the full glare of the headlights.

 

"Nick!" I ran towards him, fairly screaming out his name. Indomitable young eyes shone in a face that had been ground into suffering, a body chewed on by death.

 

He was still eighteen. Just as I'd still been eight—now almost nine, though I rarely cared to think of it—after a year of being stuffed in a tiny box. Youth still defined Nick's tortured body. My senses recoiled, lower antennae seeming to shrink at the odor of infection that emanated from his wounds. For an instant I could only focus on what hadn't changed. His dark gray-black plating was still marked with blue swirls; solid paint at the center of his chest and spirals winding about his torso and weaving to accent his limbs, face and neck. Yet the blue was discolored with red-brown blood, covering him as though he'd been showered with it.

 

He still stood just less than six and a half feet...a height that seemed reduced, as one antennae had been hacked in half. The softer, ashen skin between his shell-plates was marked with dozens of two-pronged burns. Every torturer, every MNU grunt knows to jab his cattle prod at those sensitive tissues to make us scream and beg. Yet the tiny sub-arms at the base of his torso seemed by far the worst...barely recognizable for what they had been. Each centimeter of skin had been sliced at; cut and dissected until only twitching shreds remained. 

 

Kurt must have made some hasty repairs to his captive. Nick's fresher lacerations did not bleed, and white bandages covered the three gunshot wounds Douglas had given him--a bullet in each leg and one in his arm, cracking his shell-plates but not rendering my friend unable to take that monster's life...or unable to step towards me now and smile as our eyes met, though he broke into a fit of coughing and fell to his knees. His chains clinked together as he cleared his lungs, shaking with the effort.

 

"Hiya, Sherry. Been awhile huh?" Nick grinned up at me, our eyes not quite level. "Have you been studying?"

 

My arms extended as though gaping with emptiness as I ran to him; scarcely remembering to avoid his wounds as I held him in my childlike, clinging embrace. I realized that the noises I made were almost comical, crying and laughing at once. A few moments passed before I could pause long enough to glare up at Kurt. "Unchain him, you bastard! Do it!"

 

"Fine." Kurt knelt down behind him; chains clattering as he unlocked them. Nick's hands relaxed and broke free to return my embrace. They moved slowly, pain evident in each motion. One hand had been mutilated, the farthest finger rendered to only a stub.

 

Kurt moved as though to stand, but I reached behind Nick to grab his wrist with all the force my tiny hand could muster. I'm not very big or strong. I thought. But I once bit a human's foot off; they're soft, I could—

 

He immediately tensed, arm moving as though to elbow me in the face. "What--"

 

My grip tightened, voice becoming a slow hiss. "Kurt. You're Kurt. You're even uglier in person. What did you do to him?"

 

Dayna's soft hand on my shoulder was barely noticeable, yet her words were like a calm brook in the midst of my fiery, internal storm. “Sherry, I told you to expect Nick to be in this condition. Don't give him any reason to want to back out on this.” I didn’t move. Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. “And shoot him.”

 

I'd never seen Kurt's face so close, or so clear. The slight smirk seemed to have changed dramatically, become plastered on above sunken, hollow eyes...as though he'd done something unimaginable, unforgivable, and was now only going through the motions. Maybe it was Nick, or maybe surprise, but my grip slackened enough for him to rip his arm free. “I got him out, just like you said to. I couldn't exactly stop by a hospital on the way here.”

 

“... I have to agree, Sherry.” Dayna’s tone was firm. “Give him some credit.”

 

“You did.” I choked out the words, stepping back slightly but keeping a hold of Nick's intact hand. "And you're going to the States. But next time I see you, you fucker--"

 

"There won't be a next time." He glared. "Not if I can help it."

 

"Don't be sure of that." Dayna added quietly, stepping aside to meet Kurt's eyes.

 

He turned his glare to her. "I just killed two of the people I worked with. I'm not going near you again if I have a choice in the matter."

 

"Well, it's a small world you know?" She raised one eyebrow, enunciating each world clearly. "And if things don't work out I can guarantee you'll be seeing us again for help."

 

"I doubt it." Kurt's voice was cold. What little I'd known of him seemed strangely absent now—no proud laugh, no casual grin as he held the weapon; the upper hand. Now, he only held tickets and would soon disappear.

 

Dayna's soft, thick lower lip protruded in a mock pout. "So cold after all we've done!"

 

I spared Kurt a narrow-eyed, venomous, final glare before turning away from him and meeting Nick's eyes. "You're..." I stopped. How do I even begin to say it? You're half dead but your heart is alive. You're a survivor...you're like the mothership, a wreck that survives every blow of humans and misfortune. Restraint made my antennae twitch erratically. "Let's get you some help."

 

Nick chuckled, though his eyes seemed dark and heavy with guilt. "Aren't I supposed to be the help? It's pathetic, how I allowed things to come to this. I'm sorry for my weakness."

 

"What?" I nearly staggered at his words, and gripped his face in both of my hands. His eyes...somehow, they were strangely like a mirror. "Don't you ever say anything like that. You killed Douglas, quicker and kinder than he deserved. You saved me, and you didn't give in to them. You survived that horrible creature there--" I paused for only an instant, cocking my head towards Kurt. "I love you, Nick! You're a hero...more than that." My own words seemed inadequate, as though he had earned a medal and I could only give him a handful of the sand all about. "You're a beacon, a mountain. Like Father is." I lowered my hands, resting them on his bloodstained shoulders.

 

Kurt's grin was twisted with mockery. "How sweet. Now, can I leave? I have things to do."

 

I clenched my jaws, but spared him only a single click. "Yes."

 

Incredibly, but characteristically, Nick smiled. He rubbed my head with his uninjured hand as though calming a frightened child. "I love you too, little one, and thank you, but I'm nothing like your father." I tried to support him as he winced slightly, climbing to his feet. He glanced over his shoulder, single head-antennae pointing at Kurt. "Enjoy the rest of your life, murderer." 

 

I glanced up to see Kurt's back already to us, heading alone towards his armored truck. He visibly flinched at the word murderer, but made the last few steps away from us—the deal completed, the new life waiting.

 

Nick's shoulders relaxed slightly as Kurt's truck door slammed shut. He wavered on his feet almost imperceptibly; directing a single nod at Dayna and I. "Let's get out of here, please."

 

We supported his weight as best we could and lead him to our own battered white van. Eric had already started the engine.

 

"We'll be back soon." I whispered to him, holding tight to his hand as we settled in to the back and sped across miles of featureless desert, back towards our tunnels and their semblance of safety. He slumped against the seat beside me, exhaustion finally apparent in every line of his dark-plated body. Dayna sat in the passenger seat, beside Eric.

 

"Our people are strong—I know you'll heal. And yes, I've been studying. Even teaching the classes a little." I forced a smile, squeezing his hand. "So much has happened...Christian gave his speech, President Mbeki will decide sometime this week—“

 

Nick's hand went limp, though his breathing was steady in the silence. He'd passed out.

 

I didn’t awake him until we were near the tunnels again, and Eric nearly carried our injured friend to his cot. I was gathering blankets and bandages when Sue emerged from Akra’s alcove, a live news feed nearly blaring behind him.

 

"Hey, just thought you oughta know, the holders heard your Professor's cry and latched on. He's taking the topside by storm, even the Stain is starting to buzz about it."

 

"What do you mean?" Dayna stared at him.

 

"MNU's toast. Tanukashi's taking over. Here's to hoping that they can wipe this stain clean."

Debts

 

They reacted. We watched.

The Elder insisted that I sleep, but evening hours still found me hunched over my makeshift desk deep within the tunnels. I spent every moment I could scrutinizing the news feeds; a cacophony of human voices in the wake of our Professor’s speech.

 “South Africa's President Jacob Zuma has yet to speak publicly about the recent appearance of a Space Person before the UIO,” a well-suited reporter enunciated above the fray, “but his office has stated that he is committed to listening to his people and is currently considering all options in regards to preserving or canceling MNU’s contract.” The display shifted to an unnamed human with dark, worried eyes—an “on the street” interview.

   

“Look, we’re bein’ good to them, we’ve let them stay, they got a place to live—I don’t want ‘em back here and doin’ the riots again.” He sighed. “But that company’s makin’ us all look bad. Somebody else wants the aliens they can have them. Take ‘em to Antarctica for all I care.”

A well-suited woman’s face shifted into view. “It’s just sad when we exploit other people,” The camera zoomed in on her white teeth, perfectly coiffed young hair. “Whether they’re Non-Humans, kids, or people of a different race…maybe if we were nicer, they’d be nicer. Like that one who gave the speech. We should let them choose another corporation at least.”

A white-haired, gravelly-voiced old man shrugged. “I don’t think we oughta be scared of ‘em anyway. And if that alien was right maybe the Japanese can do a better job, you know? Make us extraterrestrial medicine and hologram TVs.”

 

The screen shifted to yesterdays’ press conference. Grace Allen’s familiar countenance seemed to have been aged a decade by a single speech. “Multinational United is dedicated to treating Non-Humans with dignity and fairness.” The CEO’s image on my computer screen articulated firmly, yet her words seemed to bear a sharp, ragged edge.

“We would provide them with other forms of work of they were capable of it. We would allow them outside of their special zone unescorted if they were not a danger. But until they are able to assimilate, Multinational United has the legal mandate and the obligation to keep humans safe by keeping Non-Humans separate. If the United International Organization wishes to conduct an inspection of District 10 Sanctuary Park, they are welcome to.” Her smooth tone wavered, eyes drained and hard. “However, their insistence on following the demands of a dangerous and mistaken Non-Human who simply mimicked what he had been instructed to say—“

I switched off the feed. It was news I’d seen before, and there were other, simpler concerns—I needed to help out with the tent schools. I opened up a half-completed lesson plan on Poleepkwan script. With Christian away, and Nick…I shuddered at the thought of where Nick was, and in whose hands. In any case, we still needed teachers. And that just left Akra, Sue and I.

When the lesson was finished I read a short e-mail from Ryan—it nearly made my head spin to think that they were on another continent, an island, and safe from MNU until the politicians made their decision. Not only safe, but meeting with those who our Professor had so publically endorsed. Tanukashi.

“This TK lawyer, Lawrence Owen.” Ryan wrote, following the name with an e-mail address. “He’s kind of our contact with them. I told him you would want to talk to him about District 10—what’ll happen if they do take charge.”

He was right about that. My three short fingers flew over the keyboard, forming a simple proposal and a curt list for this distant benefactor.

Dear Mr. Owen,

I’m no politician; I don’t have Christian Heffner’s skill with words. I am just a Poleepkwa who thinks that you might be in charge of her people soon, and who wants something different for them. You know who I am, and you know that I can help you understand our technology, including the beacon that I’ve mentioned. In exchange for the ability to communicate with a larger portion of this galaxy than humans have even imagined, as well as a map containing a wealth of information about the universe, this is what I ask for if your company should take over District 10.

1.   Prohibit cattle prods.

2.   Eight-hour workday.

3.   Sufficient pay (equal to humans).

4.   Sufficient food (4,000 calories a day, not spoiled).

5.   Cafeteria-style food provided, not through truck dumps.

6.   Make school voluntary.

7.   Prohibit school beatings.

8.   Honest schooling; allow native script and history.

9.   Safe working conditions.

10.  Prohibit factory beatings.

11.  Housing/ shelter at least equivalent to shacks.

12.  Sufficient blankets and clothing.

13.  Ability to file complaints, get abusive guards fired.

14.  End trafficking, fire guards involved.

15.  Freedom of speech and assembly.

16.  End population control.

17.  Allow us to own our own native devices, and buy human devices—televisions, radios, computers, etc.—from you.

18.  Expand base system to accommodate at least 1/4 of 2.5 million, or 600,000 Poleepkwa over time.

19.  Personal request: I remember my debts. Use your funds to hire a lawyer, bribe someone, I don’t care, and get Fundiswa Mhlanga freed.

20.  Personal request: I don’t know where Nick is, or…how much time he might have left. But if there is anything you can do for him, then my technical knowledge will be at your disposal. Of course I can’t give up the beacon until Father Returns, but if your company wants to use Poleepkwan technology to give the humans hologram televisions, as I’ve heard, I can certainly help with that. Saving my friend is worth all the information I can give.

My eyelids seemed weighted down as I sent it. I rested my healing head on the rough, makeshift desk—the mark of Douglas’ fist was almost gone. My left side still bore the cracks radiating out from where he had kicked my supine body, hairline fractures in my shell-plates near where a human’s ribs would be. So many thoughts, so little sleep…I tried to imagine a District 10 that met my demands. Perhaps it would be similar to District 9, though further removed from the human world. And safer…

 

 

Gather round and count them,

Each one along with me.

Umka, bright volcano-red,

Illrune of methane seas.

Tiny frozen Tar’linka,

Lanixu’s orange-white haze—

Each moon circles in its time,

Months or years or days.

Silver-white Kinmekte follows

Narlilk’s long, slow spin…

Jumpgate flashes, and we’re home,

To seven moons again!

 

Little Oliver recited it with me as we sat together in the dirt, arranging empty cans to orbit a planet made of tattered paper. Oliver pushed a sour, stinking milk jug around like a spaceship above our little toy planet. Father was nearby, processing the fuel we’d found together. “How much more?” We’d asked him again. “How much more?” It was always unknown, always like filling a bucket with an eyedropper.

The plastic jug rasped against hard-packed sand as he scooted it about. “I want to fly the ship. I’ll spin around Umka and Illrune like this!” He attempted a swift “figure eight” about two cans, knocking one out of “orbit.”

“Okay!” I righted the half-crushed tin can moon. “But I get to step off first. I’ll see it all—plants with blue leaves, a sky like a sunset from algal blooms, and buildings three hundred stories tall all set up like a huge spoked wheel.” I drew out a rough sketch in the sun-baked earth. “Leader is at the center.”

Bursts of gunfire tore through our imaginings. “Get down!” I hissed at Oliver, instinctively flattening against the dirt. If we were lucky, the Nigerians were only shooting randomly. They would pass…

“Sherry.” Father’s voice echoed above me. “Stand up, little one.”

“Daddy?” Colors and shadow spun about as I climbed to my feet. I stood to find Oliver disappeared, dirt and world swept away in an eye blink. The mothership thrummed with life beneath my feet; cool air tickled my antennae in the soft light.

 

“Daddy?” His voice was unmistakable, yet I stood alone.

“I could never express how thankful I am for such shows of support.  It is so important to have humans on our side…” The words from his own blog echoed through my dreaming mind, seeming to emanate from everywhere. “We are sentient beings, just like the humans.  We can grow to understand each other.  We can be friends.  We accomplish more together than apart. Most importantly, we can be allies against all that stands for evil and corruption. Let's continue working together to bring down MNU.”

I fell to my knees, shell-plates clanging against metal. “What do you want from me? I promise I’ll keep your hope, everyone will know you’re returning for them! But this is a prison world! A slightly larger box, Father! Some human just tried to rape me and I’m supposed to love them?” My stomach seemed to be filled with snakes, hissing in every direction and coiled together in a writhing knot. “Christian gave an amazing speech. I believe in him. But this just doesn’t make sense! We’re staking it all on the hope that a room of holders will have compassion, and then another corporation won’t beat us to death and burn children alive! I don’t want this world for us, Father! I want this ship, I want freedom!”

A thick, wet cough awoke me. I ran to Akra, but Eric was already there—holding a bloodstained rag to his mouth and water at the ready. Yet the sound seemed to continue forever before finally quieting. I felt a pang of regret. How could I think of burdening the Elder with my conflicts, my silly dreams when he fought for each breath? I helped Eric as best I could, but a quiet question was visible in his eyes.

When our Elder slept again Eric met me beneath the stars, shining points of light rendered dim and distant by MNU’s harsh bulbs. “What do you need, little one?”

“Eric.” The sound of his voice relaxed my shoulders, seemed to add slowness and depth to my breathing that I didn’t even realize it lacked. “Nothing. I just needed to see you. After everything...”

“You can do that any time. I may not say much, but I’m always here to listen.”

I smiled up at him. Eric seemed a stone pillar, composed of silent thoughts beneath plates of onyx and jade. Solid, powerful, yet so remote….I leaned against his side, letting this pillar support me as I had the very first night he’d taken me in. When I was a tiny, crippled child fresh out of an MNU lab. Not quite five months ago.

The words emerged as though I were purging them from my heavy chest. “I’m just in a knot.” I stared up at him, antennae twitching with embarrassed agitation. “Humans, what we’re fighting for…it doesn’t always make sense. But I want to carry Father's hope. He has so much of it. And so much faith in humans.”

He gave a deep sigh. “I know you do. But you must learn the importance of gaining the strength to stand alone. There will be times when you have no one else...at least, as long as we're on this world. It is, ‘every Prawn for himself’ in this place.”

I clenched my jaws tight. “Prawn alone. Two of the ugliest words in the universe.”

He shook his head, resting a three-fingered hand on my shoulder as I stared up at the stars. “You truly do wish for the hive mind.”

“Why not?” My eyes widened. “I mean, it's the opposite of everything here. Don't you ever want it?”

“No. Sherry...” He paused, the shell-plates above his eyes furrowing thoughtfully. “It is the idea of relying on others to take care of everything else for you. Teamwork is admirable. But doing just one job sounds... imbecilic.”

I could only lean against the doorway, shaking my head.

“In the hive mind, as I understand it, we all have our own parts to play.” I nodded, and he continued softly, “but, if you take out some of the essential components...you end up on a hostile planet, as slaves to a weapons manufacturer. For all of their flaws, humanity would probably fare better in a situation like that than we did.”

I buried my face in my hands, giving a harsh, bitter laugh. “You’re staying, aren’t you?”

His clicks were smooth and calm, yet each syllable seemed weighted down. “I was born here, raised here, made here. There is too much Earth in me. Too much individualism.”

“Damn it!” I clenched my fists, and couldn’t restrain myself from slamming one of them against the earthen doorway behind us.

“I don't have a choice, then.” Dirt cascaded to the ground as I spun about to face him again. “I can't leave you in a world like this. Eric...you took me in when I was just a crippled kid, and you’re my people. For you, and whoever else is staying—I’m with Christian. If I'm leaving you” I nearly choked. “Behind here, it's not going to be like this. It will be in the world Christian wants. Not a filthy work camp.”

He knelt down to meet my eyes, his own bright with concern. “I've told you this before... you cannot take a world on your shoulders. Let Christian do what he's doing, and hope he doesn't die before it gets done.”

I shook my head emphatically. “I doubt it's possible. But I'll die before I'll give up on it. Our people deserve it…and what else can I do?”

He gave a deep sigh. “To put it simply... breathe, little one. You are like a piece of paper, tied down in a fierce wind. You are in every possible direction, before anyone can tell what's going on. The world does not happen in a few minutes. Learn to take your time.”

“You're right. Eric...” I forced myself to take a few long, slow breaths. “This is a lot to take in. I love you for your wisdom, your advice, for all that you've done. But my plates are still cracked, I haven't been sleeping, I miss Ryan...and I can't think about Nick or I get physically ill. Please, just stay with me. I need to rest, and think. I know you're staying behind. Just don't go anywhere tonight.”

He winked, an unusual smile spreading across his green-plated countenance as he led me back into the tunnels, towards cots and rest. “If I go anywhere tonight, it's because I’m chasing after you.”

I sighed, grinning ruefully. “I’m not going far. Just to see if that Tanukashi lawyer has answered me yet, and then to rest. And breathe.”

He had. I didn’t bother to sit as I read the e-mail, only leaned in to absorb his cordial, businesslike words.

 

Miss Johnson,

As a representative of Tanukashi, I feel it is my duty to say that the “demands” you make are aimed at Multi-National United. It has not once been the intention of Tanukashi to mistreat assets. Employees, or otherwise.

Speaking off the record, Tanukashi does not have any intention of becoming another MNU. We have been keeping an eye on your "blog" and have other contacts inside of District 10. Since we anonymously support the Alien Rights and Freedom Association, (known as ARFA) we've been updated on the status of things.

We at Tanukashi are an electronics based corporation. We are not interested in your weapons, but we are interested in learning. We are more than willing to work out a deal with whatever type of leadership you have in place, to negotiate a trade of technologies. As for Mr. Mhlanga, we will do everything we can, but I make no guarantees. We also have an opportunity (strictly off the record, of course) which may be instrumental in aiding Nick. I have spoken with Ryan and Dayna about it already, but it is crucial that your team discuss it further.

On the record; Tanukashi is interested in negotiating for the recognition of "Poleepkwa" as a race of sentient beings, deserving of the same basic rights as Humanity. When Tanukashi fully takes over District 10, we politely request that the Poleepkwa organize their own form of government and policing. A permanent committee consisting of Tanukashi representatives and Poleepkwan members elected by the population of D-10 will be formed to act as civilian oversight in matters of discrimination and abuse complaints.  This will be known as the PCOC, Poleepkwa Civilian Oversight Committee. 

 

However, the school system will not be voluntary. Tanukashi will support a Poleepkwa run school with its own curriculum, (if certain requirements are met) that Poleepkwa children may attend instead of the schooling offered by Tanukashi. The punishment of Poleepkwa children will be left to be determined by those running the school themselves.

 

No Tanukashi representative (of any position) will physically harm a Poleepkwa, unless in a case of self-defense. We will not take any hostile action against the Poleepkwa, unless in response to a hostile action towards Tanukashi.

 

We will begin the process of integrating established immigration systems to include Poleepkwa, allowing them the legally immigrate to accepting countries through due process. Until then it is the understanding of Tanukashi that South Africa will not allow unescorted aliens on their soil.

Tanukashi is more than willing to cooperate with an alien Labor Union concerning the work conditions. Off the record, again: When Tanukashi runs the district, the Poleepkwa will be given the same rights that humans are given in Japan and the US. At least, that is my understanding of the situation as it stands.

 

Most respectfully,

 

Lawrence Owen

 

 

I stood, still and silent, my eyes roving over the words again and again. Bureaucratic…yet better than I ever hoped. If they do take over…

“Sherry, there you are.” Dayna’s soft human voice sounded behind me, tinged with nervous excitement. “We need to talk. Tanukashi—they have a plan. We may be able to rescue Nick.”

Time

“Jared, I’m all right.” I gave him a brief glance before turning back to the glowing computer screen before me. I sat before the wooden crate that served as my makeshift desk, kicking my short legs back and forth above the dirt floor. “Just need to finish this.” His clicks were a distant noise, and I scarcely noticed when it was gone. “I’m not tired. I’m fine.” The words felt like a mantra, repeated endlessly over the past three days. I had smiled at the others, shrugged off my wounds, and talked about Christian's anticipated speech. I have to carry our hope. However I feel...we need to keep fighting. 

 

Now, though, I could only think of Nick. They have him. He’s alive. Tag number 1991-00-2241, Status: Detained. Apprehended three days ago. That much I could tell from the information Akra had found in MNU’s database.  But there were so many places he could be held for “questioning,” so many cells and guards. I pored over maps of District 10 until my amber eyes burned, but the instant I closed them a leering, brick-like face would invade my dreams. 

I glanced at the clock display. My face was bruised but no longer swollen, I could see out of both eyes again. It was nearly three in the morning—the others didn’t know that nightmares had driven me from my cot, as they had each night since Douglas’ death. 

Silent hours passed. Nick. I have to find him. The earthen tunnel shifted to an indistinct blur. Three days…but I don’t need sleep. They’re torturing him. I know it. I examined a prisoner list, opened an e-mail…I clicked on something, and suddenly my computer was talking. 

I felt my throat clench shut; my body shake at the sound of a casual, strangely familiar human voice. “Hello.”

“Who...” I tried to clear my eyes, to settle the room about me. Dirt walls spun as though falling through nothingness. “I thought you were dead.”

“No.” He chuckled almost gently. “You may want that, but it's sadly not true.” He must have heard my labored breaths in the stillness. “Are you feeling all right? You don't seem like your hopeful, sharp self.”

“Wait...you're not Douglas.” I gripped the edge of the crate—my desk—until splintered fragments dug into my skin. “Nick snapped your neck...”

“Nick killed Douglas.” He spoke as though naming the cost of bread. “I am not Douglas. I am Kurt; I'm alive.”

Kurt! I couldn’t find the familiar rage. It was too much to decide where my hands were, and how to form simple words. “I can't see right no sleep...”

“I guessed.” Dry amusement tinged his voice. “Why haven't you been sleeping?”

“Nightmares. Cracked rib-plates…” I scarcely whispered. “Where's Nick?”

“With us, of course.”

I rubbed my eyes as though they could be forcibly cleared. “You're not real, you must be another dream...seeing things in tunnels.”

“If that makes you feel better, kiddo.” I could almost hear the shrug in his tone. “Tell me, would you like to see your friend Nick?”

I bolted upright, my rickety wooden stool falling backwards onto the ground. “Yes!”

“All right. I'll take him over to see you. He's been asking to talk to you, and it's the least I could do, isn't it?”

“Nick? He saved me...” I wrapped my arms around my thin, green-plated chest. “I want to see him.”

“I guessed as much. So where would I take him?” He laughed. “I can't exactly ferry him around this place, you know.”

Something didn’t seem right; it was as though his voice reached me through layers of wet cement. “Take him under the ground where the walls are spinning...”

“That leaves an awful lot of places to look. What ground?”

“Wait...” I blinked hard, gripping my own arm as though it could lead me back to reason. “You're Kurt.”

“Yes. I am Kurt.” He seemed relaxed, patient.

“Kurt wants to find us!” My legs crumpled, I clutched at the crate but could scarcely feel my resinous black skin tear against the splintering wood. I grasped at memories like cold mist. “Taking over for Kurt while he’s getting his knee cut up.” Douglas had said. Kurt back with fixed knee? Kurt will drill Nick! “Oh shit, what am I doing? I can’t talk to you! Where's Nick? Am I awake?”

 

“No. This is a dream world.” That steady, confident human tone again. “You've got quite a bit of experience with those; can't you tell?”

“Yes!” I cried out in the dirt. “I knew it. Asleep…” This has to be a dream. Boots, fists, guns, Nick… “I can feel them! Not again, I'm back...they're coming...”

The dark walls were spinning about, white dreamscape of my tiny box melding into black-gloved human fists. Your ass is mine, Prawn. 

“No! No more dream!” My clicks were high and sharp, like a dying bird. “Oliver, run! Not the dreams again...I have to wake up. Save Nick...”

“Hmm. You really are insane.” Kurt’s human tone was strange, as though the absence of mockery left a calm void. “You almost had me convinced otherwise, sweetie.” 

“Three days no sleep.” Some distant corner of my mind felt humiliation at the tears that moistened my cracked face-plates and dampened the earth. I was vaguely aware that I clawed at my own thighs to break the grip of invisible hands. “And those hands....” I whimpered. “Make him stop.”

The voice that reached me could not have been Kurt…it was human, it was him. But soft and slow like a parent consoling a child. “Go to Akra, Sherry. Get some sleep too. Staying up on the computer will only make it worse.”

“Okay.” I clicked. My arms stilled. I can go to Akra. He’ll stop the bad things. “But his face gets in my sleep...”

“He's dead, hon. He can't hurt you. Now get some sleep.”

My legs were jointed wood beneath me, foreign and moving as though I were their slow, inept puppeteer. I don’t know how long it took to stand again. “Wait.” I paused, facing a computer screen that was only a blur of light. “What happens if you fall asleep in a dream world?”

“You wake up.” He almost seemed to be speaking to a child, deliberate and soft. “Reality has to show up sometime.”

“Wake up! Will Daddy be there?”

"Not yet. Soon."

My body shook but I laid a bleeding, splintered hand on the black laptop screen, ready to close it and rest. I moved as though through thick sludge, aiming myself further into the tunnels. Towards Akra. “Okay. I'll go to sleep and wake up from the dream place.”

Kurt’s voice bore only a hint of sarcasm before I shut the screen, ending the connection. “Good idea.”

I stumbled down the dark tunnel; against alternating walls that left me streaked with dirt, pebbles scratching at my shell-plates. Akra’s room seemed to glow…his own computer lit his worn, black-plated face with soft blue light.

“Elder?” My voice and form felt diaphanous; I kept to the shadows. 

“Sherry?” He looked up from his screen, red-gold eyes glancing about. “Yes, please, come in...”

I stepped halfway into the light, but couldn’t meet his gaze. “Can't sleep. Nick…bad things in dreams.”

“I cannot sleep either.” His aged countenance formed a slow, tender smile as he beckoned me forward. It took only a few more steps before I let his weight support me, my head resting in his seated lap.

“Shh, child... Do not fear...” He patted the side of my head, large three-fingered hands deftly avoiding the cracks and bruises. “Nick is a tough one. He will make it.”

“I know. I hope...but no sleep it's all spinning...” Before I could finish the thought I was swirling about again, lifted from my feet and cradled like a glasswork doll in his ancient, scrape-covered arms. “Can't close eyes.”

He sighed. “Sherry...”

 “Please...I'm so sorry.” The words came out in a rush as I wrapped my tiny arms around his neck. “Will you stay with me? Keep the hands away...make them leave me alone?”

I glanced up to meet his warm smile, my shining Akra. “I will... I could use the company myself, Sherry. You can stay here with me.”

 

My voice shook, yet every passing breath seemed slower, deeper. “Thank you Elder.”

He stood up, cradling me close. I shut my eyes and buried my small face against his scratched chest-plates as though I could burrow into safety, and sleep. 

He carried me; lifted me through the exhaustion. I no longer felt able to fight the swirling chaos all about. But there was no need—the Elder could keep it at bay. Akra lowered me onto his makeshift bed, a narrow, cave-like hole dug into the earthen wall. It was primitive, yet warm with layers of padding. I collapsed into it like a tiny pile of dried bones; spent and clattering to rest. My eyes wouldn’t open again, and only soft darkness waited behind them.

He sat beside me, but I couldn’t release his hand. A marble-sized beacon flickered in my half-conscious mind; with it the memory of a dream. The light…  “Daddy...I love you Daddy...”

The voice in return was beside me, but not Father’s. It was older, deeper, and tinged with both warmth and guilt. “Love you too, Sherry.”

***

My sleep was heavy and dreamless. Even the blare of MNU’s morning alarm did not wake me before late in the afternoon, when the Elder laid a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Sherry.” He smiled, eyes fairly glowing. “It’s time.”

I followed him to find Dayna, Eric, Sue and the children crowded close around his computer screen. “Christian!” I whispered, awestruck at his face on the live news feed before us.

The entirety of the world seemed to be watching as Christian slowly made his way to the platform. If the large spattering of news crews was any indication, they probably were. He was flanked on each side by very large bodyguards, but Christian didn't seem to notice. Ryan followed a couple of steps behind, quickening his pace to catch up with the Poleepkwa's much longer stride. I was scarcely aware that the others about me were seated on empty boxes and dirt-encrusted crates, and that Akra lifted me to rest on his lap. My eyes were glued to the screen.

Christian calmly set himself before the podium. Ryan took a place beside him, pulling one of the microphones down lower. The two bodyguards separated and stood at the edges of the speaker’s stage.

There was a rolling hush as the crowd saw just who—and what—was going to speak. The assembled humans of several hundred nations were silent, but the camera feed shifted to the outrage outside. A mass of people roiled with raised arms and rude gestures while a cacophony of boos and hisses seemed to permeate the air. The crowd was pushing against the barricade as hard as they could, but the security line held them at bay. I gripped the Elder’s hand so tight he flinched. The pigs that hate us…and the humans who listen.

 

A short squawk of feedback belted out of the P.A. system outside. His tentacled face was broadcast on screens in living rooms and cafes, and above the twisted faces of the seething human crowd. My breath left me for a moment as Christian began his speech. His voice, amplified through the speakers, reached out over the audience. They quieted slightly. Ryan, with his voice amplified slightly higher than Christian’s, began translating. I felt a quiet warmth at the sound of my “big brother’s” voice, but soon forgot his presence completely as Christian’s words filled my mind.

“Multinational United and many others would like you to believe that this moment itself is impossible. That my kind are all but hopeless, mindless, aimless workers. That we should never dream of presenting our case before you as a human would.” He spread out his arms as though to encompass the entire crowd. “They would have you believe that we descended onto this world as starving refugees and that over a quarter of a century later, we are still unable to advance ourselves beyond even the lowest castes.”

Advance ourselves. I smiled faintly. That’s our Professor.

A three-fingered hand came to rest over his heart. “I do not claim to be human, nor do I claim to belong within your world, yet I am a sentient being and I would like to be treated as such. Humans and Poleepkwa—for that is our species’ true name—are more alike than we are different. We possess a large range of intelligence, but through subjugation we are held down. We speak and write in complex languages, despite what little education MNU has allowed us. We can grow to understand—“

Several shots rang out, cutting through the calm silence of UIO bureaucrats and the alternating din of the mob outside. I screamed as two neat holes appeared in the podium, and the bodyguard nearest to Christian stumbled backwards. Bloody chunks of shell-plate spat out of Christian’s highly modified business suit as he took two shots to his chest. My sounds were hoarse, wordless, a nameless terror in my mind as though the single sun of this tiny world had been snuffed by a black-gloved fist. No. Christian, No!

His speech stopped midsentence as the bodyguards pulled them both away from the front of the platform. My breath returned as he followed them without even a sway in his step. Security swarmed the room in search of the shooter--a camera fell, reporters stuttered and speculated. I hardly heard a word, or noticed the several minutes of a "technical difficulties" screen. Our Professor was all right.

Fifteen minutes later Christian re-approached the podium, this time behind a large plate of bulletproof glass. He took one deep breath, and then spoke again.

“It takes far more than a couple of nine millimeter rounds to kill me,” resonated the P.A. system, as Christian pulled one of the bullets from where it had lodged in the thick plates of his chest, “and I have survived far worse from MNU.” A shocked murmur passed through the assembly, but his clicking voice did not waver. As for me, I grinned so broadly that my mouth-tentacles grew sore.

“I believe that despite the present hostilities,” he continued, removing the second bullet then holding both out in front of him, “we can grow to understand one another.” He dropped the bullets onto the podium with an audible plink.

“Given enough time, we can even begin working together. This present situation is of no benefit to any of us. The time has come to realize that, unless there is a paradigm shift, our future, both human and Poleepkwan, will soon grow far darker.”

His eyes narrowed, hands clenched into loose fists. “As a Poleepkwa, my life and death is subjected to the whims of overseers that I have no voice in choosing. We are considered property, and are treated as such. We are called aliens on a world that gave birth to many of us. We have our own language and culture, but face beatings and cattle prods if we express a word of it. We are capable of any work, but we are forced to labor and starve in conditions that most humans would not survive. We have children, just as you do, but they are brutalized and indoctrinated to serve MNU. Their prods and beatings do not discriminate between young and old.” The Elder’s arm tightened about me. “We have our own technology, more than just ‘weapons,’ but if we are seen with it we are murdered on the spot.

“MNU has perpetrated all of this and more, but you are not innocent! All who call themselves human, the very root of the word humane, have allowed the continuation of torture, murder, and slavery.” He raised a fist above his head, one finger pointing skyward with each word. Torture, murder, slavery. “Within your government, you have the ability, as well as a responsibility, to stop it, but you have not. Our technologies, and even our very lives, are solely for the benefit of MNU. With what they have captured, there is potential for clean energy, new medicine, or even nanotechnology. Instead they create more powerful weapons, for sale to the highest bidder. Multi-National United answers to no one but the highest bidder.”

He gestured towards himself, well dressed save for two bullet-sized tears in his chest. “They have convinced you that we are dangerous, but who profits when you demand that we be controlled? MNU profits on destroying lives, in exchange for alleviating your xenophobia. What can you do with that fear?  How many lives will it save? We are separated when there could be mutual gain.” 

He paused, eyes seeming to pass over each human of a hundred nations in turn. “I understand that these circumstances cannot be reversed in a day, but I have come before you to present an alternate life. I am not the mindless creature you have been coerced to expect. Nor are you the brutal and destructive ‘pigs’ that MNU has portrayed humans to be to us. MNU has proven to be detrimental to both of our species, but their time is almost up.” His arms spread out as though supporting this entire world. “For this life to be possible, MNU’s contract must be allowed to expire. We are sentient beings with a single request, a plea to have some choice in our governance. Should MNU's contract end, and should it be put to a choice, we choose Tanukashi.”

With his final word, UIO security closed in and ushered Christian and Ryan from the podium. I knew they couldn’t hear the shouts and applause of one human and a wide-eyed cluster of Poleepkwa deep beneath the earth of District 10, but still I clapped until my small hands were sore. They left quickly, leaving the world’s representatives to digest their words—and the world itself turned on its head.

Rise

  (edited)

“You wish to rejoin the hive when it returns for us?” He sat across from me, aged body resting almost comfortably on a makeshift cushion of sackcloth and dirt.

My antennae swished excitedly. “More than anything, Elder.”

 “See,” He clicked softly, wisdom shining in his ancient red-gold eyes. “If you choose to follow an overmind when the time comes, I will do all I can to help you prepare for it. But you have always been independent, Sherry Johnson. The change will be unlike anything you have ever known. And it must be your choice.”

I raised my right hand—the writing hand, among a people so rarely taught or permitted to write our own words—and pressed it against my head as though shoving back the idea itself. “It’s not really a choice.” My clicks came out sharper than I’d intended. “Our people are meant to exist in a hive, just as we’re meant to explore the stars. Maybe everyone won’t see that,” I grimaced, flashing for a moment on the bitter image of leaving Earth with six hundred thousand of our people still here, still individuals—and powerless. “But I do.”

Akra’s mouth-tentacles curved upward in a tender smile. “Are you the judge of what everyone is meant for? All beings adapt. External pressures drive a species to move from land to water, or water to land. A new sect of our people may remain on Earth, and even be happy here. Or,” His two upper antennae moved in opposing directions, and then pointed at me in a gesture of emphasis. “A disease may cost us our leaders and leave us with scarcely the resources to make our way to the nearest habitable planet. Which has so far proved fearful of us.”

A short, faint chuckle emerged from my small mandibles. “Oh, that was subtle.”

“But in these conditions a select few may emerge, followed perhaps by others in time—Poleepkwa who learn self-guidance in the absence of an overmind, the way a blinded person learns to rely on hearing, touch, taste and smell.  What happens next…I do not know. But remember this: whatever changes Christian’s speech brings about in the coming days, he shares the light you carry.”

My eyes narrowed with confusion, mouth-tentacles stabbing at the air. “The light?”

Akra leaned forward and rested an ancient black hand on my shoulder. “The light from your dream; that tiny beacon Christopher passed to you. Intelligence, determination, hope. Your mind must grow to hold that light…” He raised his hand to cup the side of my face, holding it like a precious jewel. “I know it’s a great deal to ask a child. But I will help you in any way I can, for as long as I am able.”

He stood up, extending a long-fingered hand to help me to my feet. “In any case, Christian is recovering reasonably well. We should speak with the others soon.”

 

 

 

    * MNU Regulation: 6.2.3 -ROADWAY REPORTS: Humans are to immediately report any sightings of non-humans on roadways.

Christian shook for a day, sweating and enduring short bouts of fitful sleep. After two days his hands steadied, and before five days had passed he seemed to be our Professor again—though an older, more exhausted version.

“It’s not a matter of smuggling him safely out of this place. We have our normal refugee route.” The Elder intoned, addressing Sue, Eric, Ryan and I. “But one of our people in the heart of downtown Johannesburg…that has not been seen in over a decade. And certainly not since the evictions.”

“Except for shellfish.” Sue leaned back, the splintered wooden stool creaking beneath him.

All eyes turned towards him. “What?” I clicked.

He glanced about, then shook his sand-plated head and pointed a finger in my direction. “I ain’t sayin’ it with the kid around. Go get—“

“Oh just tell me.” I threw up my hands. “I’ve heard it all. What, are MNU grunts shipping our bodies to Joburg, slicing them up and selling them for muti voodoo rituals?”

Sue shrugged. “No. A couple guys I know’ll do anything for a fix, don’t have to tell you people that. Even get gripped. Not many pigs want to nail ‘em but a few do. There’s even a king or two who buys it. Called ‘ordering shellfish.’ When the office boss wants some, the pigs deliver.”

“Wait, what?” I glanced over at Christian. “Can you translate?”

“I believe he is referring to certain security guards who desire Poleepkwan prostitutes. As well as a small number of Multinational United executives with similar proclivities.”

“How do they…” I grimaced, thinking of Douglas. “The grunts, I understand. You mean holders in Joburg actually get us delivered to them? Do they use the dealers?”

“From what Sue has told me, there is no need.” The Professor’s voice betrayed the revulsion that his face denied. “An MNU vehicle may pass freely through Johannesburg with its indigent passengers. Particularly if the destination is a certain disturbed MNU executive’s office one specific afternoon each week.”

Ryan leaned forward. “So all we have to do is hijack that cassiper? I drive, Christian sits in the back, and they don’t know anything’s different until he walks right into the UIO. I’ll be there to translate for him too.” A slow, determined grin spread across his young face. “I’ll ask Thomas about getting UIO vans to sneak us back out.”

“Ironically, this perversion may be of great service to us.” Christian’s antennae flicked delicately. “Sue, will your contacts enable us to know when and from where this vehicle departs?” His friend nodded.

Ryan tipped his hat back and patted my shoulder affectionately. “I'm sure you're still worried. But I can't let Christian do this on his own. There's too much danger. I’ll take him to the UIO, and I can't stand around outside. If anything happens to him, then it happens to me. There’s no way I could let him go alone. I'm sorry, and I know I’m being stubborn, but please trust me.”

“Ryan, I know—“

“If I’m wrong, and something happens to us both, then listen to Dayna.” He continued as though from a script, oblivious to my reaction. “She and Eric are in charge while I’m gone.”

“You’re not wrong.” I squeezed his soft human hand. “And you are stubborn, but you’re right this time. Our people need you both to do this. You need to drive, to translate. I’d go with you if I thought I could do any good.”

He blinked hard. “You can’t carry two worlds alone. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and help Nick with the class tonight. When we get back…”

I only nodded. To my “big brother,” to the Professor…I would not say goodbye.

***

“Nick.” I met him deeper in the tunnels. “I’m sorry I yelled at you and Ryan…”

He shook his head, black-shelled and painted in intricate blue swirls like a butterfly’s wing.  “I know. Ryan, he only agreed to do it because it was our very last option.” He knelt on the dirt floor so that our eyes met. “And he told me about Douglas—that twisted pig is on our list. He and all like him will be brought to justice, I swear. You and everyone here, especially the children, are safe. Let the adults worry about this one, okay? Please?” His bright blue eyes met mine.

I stared down at the ground. “Can I ask you for something?”

“Sure.” He settled onto the edge of a wooden crate beside us.

I spread out my short, tiny hands in a pleading gesture. I knew that Nick had been hunting down the people involved with those dealers, though no one had told me directly. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot. You both did that to get the names, but you have them now. Whoever you find…please, make it a quick death. I want those bastards dead. But not tortured just because they deserve it. This goes for Douglas. Kurt too, if we find him.” I rubbed my eyes, a grimace spreading across my tired countenance. “I have to face Father in two years, eight months. I can’t have that kind of blood on my hands.”

“Just knowing what we would do, even without being involved in any way, would stain you?”

“I...think so.” I paused for a long moment, barely whispering in the earthen silence. “I mean, Father left Pro Forma. You and I, we're part of the same group. We're responsible for each other.” I rested my right hand on his shoulder.

He clenched his fists, narrowed blue eyes meeting my own. “That's good reasoning...I won't torture them on purpose. But if we catch them doing something disgusting or horrible, I won't be able to hold myself back.” Nick laid his hand atop my own.

“All right.” I nearly whispered the words, nodding sadly. “I think you could, though. Our people are strong. And we can’t become like them.” I sat down beside him.

“Too late for me.” His smile was tinged with remorse. “There’s always a light at the end of the tunnel, though, no matter how dim. One day everyone will be safe and, maybe, I’ll be able to sleep. “

My mouth-tentacles twitched with concern. “You can't sleep? Bad dreams?”

“Almost every night.” He shook his head. “These days, I don't sleep...I pass out for a while. Then when I wake up I drink some coffee or whatever. It's been this way for months. It's just stress, though.”  Nick paused for a couple of seconds, and then gave an exaggerated shrug. “Just a bit of stress. It'll go away eventually. I just need to focus more on my work, that's all. Besides, I always have lots of energy, so it's not like it really impacts me or anything.” He saw the concern in my eyes and gave a slight chuckle. “Don’t worry about me so much. Between the two of us, I should be the one worrying.”

I rested my head against his shoulder. “I guess it’s our job to worry. Both of us. A lot is riding on what we do here, now.”

“I know...” His three-fingered hand came to rest on the back of my head, slow and tense. “I know.”

I immediately regretted my words. “Will you be okay to teach the next class?”

“Of course!” He threw his shoulders back and smiled. “I promised you a good math lesson and I shall deliver. Will you help me set up? You haven’t been to the classes much lately.”

“I know…the others have been careful about letting me run around up there. But my scars are finally fading, and I’ll keep them covered.”  Our little schools still continued, two days each week, rotating through the tents. Whether Christian’s speech this evening brought cheers or bullets, the Professor would not have us abandon education.

***

 

“We study math because it actually describes the way the universe works.” Nick’s blue eyes passed over the crowded tent, seeming to address each student in turn. “What you’ll learn here might not seem very practical, but mastering it means mastering the world around you.”

An incredulous murmur rose at his words, but he only smiled broadly and waited for the sound to subside. “With it, you can see what the universe was like less than a second after it came to be, and be able to predict possible ways for it to end. You can even use it to navigate the stars themselves.”  Talia’s mouth-tentacles curved into a smile at his words. “MNU has not taught you much because they’re afraid of your potential. And they damn well should be! They see us as nothing but animals, but you can show them differently. Learning math is a stepping stone for that, but it’s an important one. Without this knowledge, we are MNU’s drones—“

 Nick spun to face the front end of the barrel-shaped tent, his mouth-tentacles splaying out and issuing forth a wild scream. "Everyone run, now!"

I leapt to my feet for an instant before colliding with a brown-plated child and sprawling back to the ground. “Go!” I tried to shout above the chaos, the panicked children all about. “Out that way!” I scrambled to stand again, and then threw up a hand and pointed to the tent flap behind me, away from Nick—as he rushed to the front of the tent with a hoarse, wordless cry.

 

"Nick!” I screeched as I grabbed Talia’s hand and yanked her terror-frozen form upright, shoving her out with the others. I could not leave her behind. “Get out!" Through the din I scarcely heard the sound of boots and muffled voices; high screams from tiny Poleepkwan throats.  

 

“Get the fookers!”  A human in black MNU garb crashed through the tent. “Hey—quit it, Prawn!” He swung his thick rifle around and fired at Nick.

 

“No!”  The shot ripped through Nick's leg, dropping him instantly with a loud thud.

 

He spun his head around to face me."I should be telling you to get out. Didn't you hear me? I said run!" He rolled over and crawled towards the guard.

 

“Fookin' Prawn.” His fat pink lips spread in a wide grin. “You want more? That it?” He aimed and blew a seeping red hole in Nick’s other leg, and then fired into and through the black-plated arm reaching out towards him. “There. Now stay, Marvin.”

 

Jared grabbed my hand and we bolted toward the opposite end of the tent. Towards the fleeing others, and freedom—but not quickly enough.

 

“Prawn brats!“  The human aimed his gun at us. “Get the fook down if you know what's fookin' good for ya.”  He stepped over Nick, bleeding in the dirt and seeming unconscious from pain. “I said get down!”

 

I raised my hands. “All right, all right...” Father’s lessons on dealing with MNU echoed in my mind. Speak slowly and calmly. Keep your mouth-tentacles still, they frighten some humans. My shell-plates ground against the dirt as I knelt before him.

 

His face clouded with confusion, as though he’d expected us to scream or whimper. “I heard ya, shrimpie. Think you're the one in charge here?” Before I could move he bound my wrists behind me with plastic zip-tie cuffs.

 

“We didn't do anything.” I forced the tremor from my voice as Jared was cuffed. “We're just listening to him talk...that's not against the rules.”

 

“The fook you are.” He towered above me again. “This is one of those fookin' Prawn schools, ain't it?” He tapped my head with the tip of his rifle. “So you're gonna fookin' tell me all that's rattling in that Prawn brain of yours. Else I'll use this.” I flinched and could only shake my head.

 

His brick-like face twisted into a scowl. “Stupid Prawn—“ He swung his gun around and smashed it against the side of my head. “Fookin' talk already!”

 

Another grunt stepped into the tent. “Yo, Norden. We got—uh...” He paused, staring at us.

 

A cold shock passed through my stomach. Norden. Douglas Norden. I told ya, taking over for Kurt. Kurt, who’d been “assigned” to track down our schools. I know all the shit you terrorists and Prawns have pulled. How had he found us?

 

“Get back to the bakkie.” Douglas snarled. “I'm fookin' busy here.”

 

The other human backed out of the tent. “'Kay...”

 

He struck me again. Blood oozed from between my shell-plates and into my eyes, red and blinding. “Tell me about these fookin’ schools.”

 

“Stoppit!” I blinked through the crimson haze, glaring up at him with eyes like bees. “I was just listening to my parent tell a story!”

 

“Sure.” He snorted. “You know what?” Douglas’ thick face lit up as though with sudden inspiration. He slung the weapon over his shoulder, out of the way. “I don't think you're gonna talk, so I'll just sell ya to those dealers. Of course...” His meaty fists gripped my arms, throwing me on my back as though I weighed nothing. “I'm gonna have some fun first.”

 

“Don't fucking touch me!” I howled. “You're sick...”

 

“Aikona.”  He knelt down to grab my legs and yanked them apart, pulling me towards him. “Your ass is mine, Prawn.”

 

“I’m not your goddamned Prawn!”  My muscles wound tight beneath bloody plates, ready to lurch forward and rip a meaty chunk from the pig’s groping hand; to bite down on his fingers and feel bone splinter and snap in my jaws. The white-hot fire in my chest ached to throw itself against him; to die by his inexorable fists but fall in the struggle to annihilate him.

He slammed his fist into my left eye, but redness filled me and I didn’t feel the pain. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! Get your hands off me! The man before me blurred into every MNU human—a nameless guard trying to crush the life from Oliver’s tiny throat until I bit his foot in half, Kurt’s carefree grin as Poleepkwan children screamed and died beneath those soft pink hands. It’s you, all you! You’re gonna fucking die!”  

I gnashed my jaws, mouth-tentacles splayed out as I hissed like a ravenous, wounded tiger. This is it, then. The shadow of a thought passed through my fury. Better to die on your feet than live on your knees. Goodbye Father, Oliver, Ryan, Dayna, Eric, Akra…

Akra! Elder!  His words flashed across my mind as Douglas reached down to unbuckle his belt. You think you would save our people by destroying yourself. The light from your dream; that tiny beacon Christopher passed to you. Intelligence, determination, hope. Your mind must grow to hold that light…

Ideas raced through my mind like bees trapped in a jar. That light…a wise mind. Intelligence that would not submit to his fists…or rush against them like a mindless animal. My bloody eyes cleared enough to see Jared, inching on his knees through the dirt. Away from Douglas, and towards Nick.

The man unbuttoned his black pants, eyes narrowed in a vicious leer. My hands were still bound but I squared my shoulders and glared up at him. “You think you can do that?”

“Yeah, Prawn. You shoulda fookin’ talked.” He ripped the sackcloth pants from my body.

"You're gonna mutate!” I screamed. “You’re gonna mutate, you sick pig!"

He paused midway through lowering his zipper. “What the fook?”

"That's right! Remember that guy on the news? A few months ago? He kept messing with us and got an alien disease!”

 

 

 

“What the—fookin' disease? What the fook you saying?” His eyes widened, almost with alarm—too absorbed to see Jared bite through Nick’s zip-tie cuffs.

 

I wiggled my mouth-tentacles at Douglas as Jared rammed his shoulder against the older Poleepkwa, trying to shake him awake. "You're gonna get a Prawn hand!” I repeated it like a child’s taunt. “You're gonna grow a Prawn hand!"

 

“Fook!” He leaped to his feet and kicked my side, shell-plates cracking as though his boot were lined with steel. “You're fookin' lying, you little piece of shit.”

 

“Ah!” I winced. "It's true! Look at your hands..." Nick stirred.

 

He scowled and stared at his hands. “The fook...” His shoulders lowered, visibly relaxing. “You're lying, you Prawn fooker…”

 

The shadows cleared away from Nick's eyes and he quickly whispered something to Jared, who shut his own eyes. He rolled onto his stomach and began to crawl towards Douglas.

 

I cast about for another distraction, my mind replaying the documentary this grunt obviously hadn’t seen. “What about your nose? Stuff is gonna come out, then your fingers fall off and you grow a Prawn hand!"

 

He rubbed his nose. “Fookin' Prawn—you're lying!”

 

Nick reached out with his unwounded hand, grabbing Douglas's leg and yanking him to the ground.

 

“Fook!” The man twisted about and tried to punch Nick as he fell. The first few blows landed, but didn’t slow Nick down as he silently crawled closer to Douglas's head—until he dragged himself close enough for the human to slam his fist against Nick’s wounded arm.

 

He let loose an echoing, wordless Poleepkwan howl, sounding through the night as though we lived in another place, another time and an entire hive would rush to our aid and tear the intruder to shreds. Nick’s other hand reached up to rip the human’s throat apart, but he caught my eyes and stopped cold.

 

He gripped the sides of Douglas's head with both hands and twisted it until the man made a strangled “ack” noise. His face became the blank mask of death. He lay motionless in the dust, empty-eyed, slightly drooling, pants still undone.

 

"Nick..." I tried to climb to my feet, voice becoming a choked whisper. "Thank you." Nick bit through Jared's cuffs. The child ran to me, freeing my wrists and helping me stand.

 

"I'm sorry I took so damn long. You did a great job distracting that freak. You're okay now; you're safe."

 

A single sob escaped my throat. “Let's get out of—“

 

Boots ground against the stones outside. “Alright, Dougie dear.” The human voice sounded almost flippant. “Are you done playing with them?”

 

He poked his head into the tent, nearly staggering backwards as he saw Douglas’ lifeless body. “What the—?”

 

"Shit!” I wrapped my arms around Nick’s chest, trying to pull him to his feet. He struggled to stand but stumbled back down into the dust.

 

"Hey—“ The man looked over his shoulder. “Over here, now!"

 

Boots sounded behind him. Nick glanced up, then turned towards us and whispered in a raspy, pain-filled voice, "You need to let me go and run. Get out of here!"

 

“No, you saved me!” I cried out. “We stick together—I’m not leaving you!”

 

Nick smiled, pulling us both close and turning his back to the grunt’s gun to shield us. "I'm sorry, little ones, but you don't have a choice." A gunshot echoed as he flung us away from him, out of the tent. He crumpled to the ground.

 

"Guess I'm gonna be taken in now." His words reached me as we ran through the darkness, towards our hidden tunnel entrance. "At least I'll have time to think of ways of killing you guys." His laughter was high, wild. "Offing that guy so cleanly didn't really do it for me, ya know."

 

“Yeah, I guess.” The human chuckled. “Damn, you're a crazy Prawn.” He paused. “You hear this tjommie? Been saying he's gonna kill us.”

 

Another, slower human voice…how many guards were there? “What else is new? Lekker, man.”

 

I risked a glance over my shoulder in time to see Nick being shoved into an armored MNU cassiper, his maniacal laughter echoing through the night.

 

 

Talia was alive. I don’t remember finding our way back to the tunnels. I know that my left eye was swollen shut when the Elder saw me, and that he wept as he wrapped me in a blanket and whispered soothing Poleepkwan words. I dimly recall the fury in Eric’s eyes as Jared rattled off a better account of what had happened than I could hope to muster. Someone said that we had no way of knowing where Nick had been taken, or any hope of rescuing him.  “He knows all about torture.” Eric’s voice was flat. “He’ll be able to lie to them…Nick won’t betray us.” And I know that Akra bandaged my wounds and something—a computer headset, or maybe a phone—carried Ryan’s voice to me.

 

“Heya kiddo!” His tone was light, almost breathless. “Dayna tells me there was some trouble, is everything okay?”

 

“There was.” I focused on the light behind my eyes before I could speak again. “They’ve got Nick. I’m so sorry Ryan…”

 

“Who got Nick?”

 

“MNU did. Two of Douglas' grunts took him away. They found him…I mean, they found one of our classes. And Nick, he saved me.  He saved all of us. And he killed Douglas. To stop him from…”

 

“Wait.” His voice was like ice. “You just said Douglas found the class?”

 

“Yes. I don't know how...Akra thinks he ‘questioned’ some of the children until he found it. And they barged in…”

 “What happened?!” I wished I could see him, hug my big brother and quell the panic in his voice.

“I'm just hurt a little! I can't see right. But I'm alive.”

“Douglas didn't touch you?”

“He…touched me.”

He was silent for a long moment, and then I could scarcely hear his words. “Oh shit... no. I shouldn't have left you there! Even if he's dead, what he did to you...”

“No!” I cut him off, forcing the tremor from my voice. “Don't say that. And he didn’t…rape me. Or anyone else. Nick killed him before he could.”

Relief flooded into Ryan’s voice. “Oh, thank God. We get him back; I’m going to find some way to thank Nick. I don't think they can keep him for too long.”

“What?”

“Christian hasn’t spoken before the UIO yet. But he will very soon, and they’ve granted us asylum.  I think they'll be with us on this. They’re saying that everything that goes on in District 10 can’t continue, and Tanukashi may be the answer. Christian’s made quite an impression.”

I tried to grin, but one of my eyes wouldn’t cooperate. “They’ve never seen a Poleepkwan Professor before.” I gripped the cell phone as though it were his hand, or something larger—a lifeline to a new hope, a different world on this one itself. “Both of you…you’re doing something amazing. Keep yourself safe, big brother. I believe in you, in Christian, in the light you carry. I believe that we can free our people, and that someday…there will never be another Douglas again.”

Light

"Run, Oliver! Run, hide!" A metal prod cracked against my back. The white dreamscape was gone; my face was being ground into the dirt of our long-destroyed shack. It was that day—the day I’d been separated from my family. Black-clad human arms beat the breath from Father and me, cracking our shell-plates—but my little brother disappeared into the shadows.

“Sherry!” Dream deviated from memory as Father’s voice echoed through my mind.

“I love you Daddy!” My vision was blurred by joyful tears. “And I’ll carry on your work, I promise! You’ll be proud of me!”

“Sherry…” A light appeared between us, a tiny blue orb the size of a marble. The glow within it danced and flickered for an instant before alighting on my brow like a firefly.

“Remember me…remember what you carry.”

Father blinked slowly, his yellow-gold eyes shining with compassion. “You’re traveling through darkness. But you must keep hope, little one. You must be hope. Remember me…

 

“I will!” My voice became a wordless scream as the MNU humans pinned our arms behind us, dragging us apart...

BUZZ!

The harsh morning bells cut through my dream. I awoke slightly shaking but hurried to help Jared and his friends prepare for the day; ready to face MNU’s school in order to recruit for our own. When our tiny alcove was quiet again I sat on the edge of a cot and powered up my laptop.

 “Can I see?” I hadn’t noticed Talia’s soft footsteps.

“Sure. This is Daddy’s website.” I opened a link and showed her Father’s blog. “He wrote it for about two years before he left.” Talia rested her slight form against my side; snuggled close like Oliver. Faint blue light illuminated her face as she leaned in to read the words on my computer screen.

Her round yellow-green eyes met mine. “He likes Earth better, huh?”

“What?”

“I just mean…better than you like it.” She pointed a tiny finger at two paragraphs; Father’s words from many months ago.

 

I could never express how thankful I am for such shows of support.  It is so important to have humans on our side to strengthen our case against the Multi-National United Corporation.  Having humans in the resistance shows others that non-humans are not some incorrigible race that cannot be reasoned with.

We are sentient beings, just like the humans.  We can grow to understand each other.  We can be friends.  We accomplish more together than apart. Most importantly, we can be allies against all that stands for evil and corruption. Let's continue working together to bring down MNU. 

 

Her yellow-green eyes seemed bright with questions. “Or he just likes humans better. Does he know Dayna? Why doesn’t he talk about home? How’d he learn to write like that?” Her clicks were soft and quiet, but fast.

I leaned back against the dirt wall, scarcely noticing the rivulets of dust that cascaded onto my light green shell-plates. Of course Daddy never hated humans, but… “He talked about home to me and Oliver! But I don’t think he wanted MNU to know his escape plan. He doesn’t like this place.”

Talia made a faint chirping sound, high and curious. “If he just wanted to take us all home, why’d he care about MNU?”

“Well…” I stuttered. “He didn’t know when he could leave and get help for us. It took twenty years to gather enough fuel.” I sighed, thinking of the documentary. “He’s very intelligent, too. He must have known that something might happen to the fluid—like a holder stealing it. Besides, what MNU’s doing is wrong. He’s always believed in stopping them.”

She smiled softly. “He sounds like Dayna. She said that whether the Pole…eep…kwa…” The true name of our people emerged slowly from her throat, from mandibles accustomed to saying “Prawns” or keeping silent. “Stay or go home, she wants us to be free. She’s so kind…”

I stroked the side of her head, wiping a streak of dirt from the MNU tag that marked us all. “I know. But this world…I don’t think we can be free here.”

Her head-antennae swished forward, eyes widening. “That’s not what your daddy said.”

I sat motionless for a long moment, as silent as Talia herself had been for weeks. Finally I drew a deep breath and gently squeezed her hand. “You have Elder eyes, Talia. And an Elder’s wisdom. What he said…it’s something to think about.”

She laid a tentative palm on my keyboard. “Do you have pictures of home on here? Can I see Tar’linka? How big is it?”

“Sorry.” My mouth-tentacles curved upward in a grin. “Only our technology has images of it. Tar’linka isn’t on the Internet.”

“It’s little, right? How big is it? Why is it frozen?”

I laid my computer aside and gave her a sisterly hug. “Smaller than the one moon here. And it’s very cold in space, you know. Tar’linka is like a ball of ice with no atmosphere.”

“What’s atmosphere?”

I kept up with her questions as well as I could, wondering if she had saved them inside through months of silence. Father’s words and the dream kept churning in my mind. I left the little one to practice her Poleepkwan writing; slowly drawing ornate characters on dusty paper as I ducked into Ryan’s alcove.

I stepped back. Green eyes glared at his own computer screen, restraint in every line of his body.  “We've been over this Douglas;” He lifted one hand from the keyboard to point an accusing finger at the screen. “You're the terrorist.”

“The fook I am.” The words appeared in return. “You like torturing those guys? Did you get off on it? I saw their wounds. You’re one sick fella.”

Ryan drew a deep breath. “I didn’t want to hurt them. I gave them the opportunity to cooperate.”

“Yeah, sure. We both knew you just told that Prawn brat that.” The man called Douglas typed the words in an “instant message” window. “I told ya, taking over for Kurt while he’s getting his knee cut up. I know all the shit you terrorists and Prawns have pulled.”

His mouth became a hard line. “Call her that again and I just may come out of this hole. But I guarantee that if I see the light of day, you won't.”

“That fookin' Marvin ain't a ‘her.’ Give me some time with it though, and maybe I’ll make it a ‘her.’ I’d love to hear it squeal.”

“You're not getting anywhere near her. Or any others, if I can help it.”

“Wanna bet, terrorist? Say hi to your Prawn brat for me. Tell her I’ll be waiting for one of you to slip up. I ain't as soft as Kurt was.”

“I've noticed.” His green eyes darkened. “Kurt has the excuse of orders, but you go above and beyond the call of duty, I take it? You’re Douglas Norden. The dealers told me about what you do to my people.”

“So I fook ‘em. I might as well get some kicks outta the job.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You want me to spell it out for you, terrorist?”

“I don't think you can, but give it a shot you brainless slug.”

“I beat the shit outta them, screw them, and squash them like the fookin’ bugs they are.”

Ryan seemed to be holding himself like a tightly wound wire coil. “On whose orders?”

“Nobody's. I like watching the Prawns squeal for mercy. The dealers like it too—I don’t sell ‘em a Prawn without breaking it in first.”

“Are you the only whacko? Tell me the names of your compatriots, so I can put them on my list as well. Wouldn't want you to go to the afterlife alone. Why don't we make it a party!?”

“Fook that. I’m killing you first, terrorist.”

His face twisted with disgust as he shut down the window, ending the conversation. “Ryan?” The young human heard my hesitant clicks and jumped. “I'm…I’m sorry.” My voice faltered.

“Why would you be sorry?” His posture softened. “You had nothing to do with it.”

I shook my head. “No, I mean I'm sorry for what I said to you before. I just saw how you looked, and I lost sight of...” I made a gesture towards the screen. “That. If what you did stops people like him...if he tried to do that to Talia, I wouldn't hesitate to hurt him either. And I don't know how else you could have gotten the names anyway. I'm sorry I was so hard on you.”

He crouched down so that we met eye-to-eye. “You had a right to be. What I did was wrong.”

“Maybe...but it doesn't matter. It’s like I expected you to be perfect or something.” I reached forward, giving him a tentative hug. “You're still my big brother.”

“You're young,” He tickled my antennae until I grinned. “And you see your heroes as unstoppable forces of nature. Not the people they are. I don't blame you.”

My eyes widened. “You're very forgiving.”

He stood up and sat before his makeshift desk again. “I need to talk to you, and everyone, about something. It's  Christian.”

My breath caught in my throat. “Did you find him?”

“No. But we have to. Nick and Eric are combing the tents looking for him.” He opened up an encrypted e-mail and angled the laptop screen towards me.

 

To the South African Branch of the Alien Rights and Freedom Association:

In the short term, the amazing work you all have done for the Poleepkwa trapped in District 10 has saved many lives. However, until we deal with MNU, we’ll continue fighting to save a handful of poverty-stricken extraterrestrials at a time from a corporation that aims to churn out a battalion of loyal slaves.

The core of the problem is not MNU, but the common people of Earth. Those who even know the conditions that Poleepkwa live in are few and far between, while those doing anything to support said extraterrestrials are even fewer. However, this has begun to change recently thanks to the “District 9” documentary, the exposing of MNU’s illegal genetics research program, and your news report.

Our network of international sponsors has been petitioning the United International Organization for months now. The time has finally come for a Poleepkwa member of our movement to communicate with the UIO directly.

As most ARFA members know, our previous attempts have largely been frustrated. I believe this has been the case for two reasons—one, we’ve been asking for increased rights when the current trend is from a slum to a concentration camp. Smaller steps are necessary. Two, only our human members have spoken before the UIO. This hasn’t done anything to directly disprove the public’s belief that the Poleepkwa are mindless animals.

One of the extraterrestrials themselves must tell them about District 10 directly. If Christian Heffner is willing, he would be perfect for this role. His speech should be convincing, informative, detailed, and emphasize the perils and trauma the Poleepkwa have suffered at the hands of MNU. His request should be that MNU’s contract be allowed to expire and awarded to Tanukashi.

Of course an alien escapee will not be tolerated by the public and MNU will be called to intervene, as it is their responsibility to “manage” them. We have the appointment—the next step will be to form a plan for getting Christian to the UIO headquarters in Joburg safely. We should work together and determine how to best accomplish this.

In Brotherhood,

Thomas Rohrer, Canada base

 

I stared up at Ryan, choosing my words carefully. “Do you think it would work? Even if we got him there? On one hand, the UIO is a bunch of paper-pushers. On the other hand, MNU's reputation is…awful.”

He nodded, absently brushing a clump of dried soil from his khakis. “I think it could work. I know you hate it when I leave you behind…and if Christian and I go together, we both risk being captured. But bettering the situation for... your people is worth that risk.”

“Our  people.” I took his hand in my own. My chest clenched at the thought of losing him, but if this was worth my life…then how could I say it wasn’t worth his? “Douglas sure isn’t, but you are. I'm sorry I ever said you weren't. I wouldn't have, if I'd really listened to Father.”

I couldn’t remember last time I’d seen him smile so broadly, white teeth seeming to shine in a dirt-lined face. “I just hope my luck pulls us through this. And we're not even sure how we'll get into there.”

“Yes. Maybe you'll have to go too...I hope not. First we need to find him, and think of a plan.”

***

 

“Professor...what happened?” I’d expected to find Christian burned. Prodded and wounded like Benjamin, half-starved and perhaps totally broken. He seemed ill instead—when I heard Eric’s footsteps I ran to meet him at the tunnel entrance, and found Christian leaning heavily against him; filthy and shaking as though in shock.

I inwardly cursed my small size as I tried to help Eric guide him to a cot, and couldn’t do any more than obstruct the older Poleepkwa’s path. “I…I’m so glad you’re alive…” Another one I didn’t recognize trailed behind them, his sand-colored plates seeming to almost blend into the tunnel wall.

“I may very well be alive, but fairly soon I may wish I was not.” He lowered himself to rest against the dirt wall, moving as though his body were made of glass.

My jaw clenched tight. “What did they do to you?”

He sighed and slowly shook his head. "They have done nothing. It's all what I have done to myself."

“Here, sit down...” I grabbed a jug of water and handed it to him. “What are you talking about?”

 “I have made several poor choices within the past week. I assumed that I could take care of it myself.” His antennae drooped. “I was wrong.”

 “Take care of what? Are you sick…what happened to you in the factory?”

"I—I've been—“ He sighed deeply, clenching his right arm with his left and flexing his three fingers. “I have been submitted to many things, but this is by far the one that has most affected me."

“Something's affected you...” My mouth-tentacles flared with bewildered agitation. “What happened, Christian?”

Ryan rested a hand on the older Poleepkwa’s shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

The sand-plated one I didn’t recognize walked further into the tunnel, stopping behind the small crowd gathering around our Professor. "He's in withdrawal. I've been watching over him for the past few days."

“Withdrawal?” Ryan’s brow furrowed. Dayna was barely visible out of the corner of my eye, hanging back from the rest. “Christian's never been addicted to anything!”

"I put it off for a very long time,” He clicked softly. “But eventually it was necessary to hold my illusion of being destitute."

His friend chuckled. "As well as the fact that it's pretty boring being the only sober one in the room."

Ryan scarcely seemed to breathe. “Oh…shit.”

Cat food. Not  our Professor, not now… I could almost hear human laughter in my head. My shoulders fell, but I turned to Christian’s nameless friend. “Is there anything we can do?”

“He's been off of it for the past six hours. Believe me; he's not near the worst of it yet.”

“Should we give him space? Or restrain him? What do we do?” Ryan’s voice had an almost wild edge. “Christian... how can we help you?”

"Just keep him off the can, and keep him company. It's worse if you're alone."

"Christian...” My hands clenched into fists. “I know you can beat this. You're a great 'man,' remember?"

He nodded slowly, exhausted eyes meeting my own. "I don't doubt that I can beat it. I only have doubts on how it will end. I never should have started it, but had I not…I don't know where I'd be."

"I'll stay with him.” I grabbed an armload of blankets—which, for me, was only two. “How long until this passes?"

"Well, we don't have any cat food here.” Ryan’s tone was calmer. “I’m just worried if you try to get out, and jones around up top"

“With the way he's feeling, I don't think that's an issue.” I didn’t think to introduce myself to this expert on addiction. “He's got a strong will. I know that much from our time together, but he'll be feeling it for a while. It took John about three days to get through it, but he wasn't as easily separated from the can. I had to lock him in his shack for the last part of it.”

"Thank you so much for helping him. It's more important than you could know.  Are you a good friend of his?"

"I cannot say I've been through worse, but I have survived thus far.” Christian took a slow sip of water. “I will be through this in one more day. That is my promise." He paused for a bit, and then suddenly seemed to remember something important. "Oh, right. I apologize for my manners. This is Sue Richard, and yes that is his official name."

Ryan and Dayna laughed faintly, for a reason I couldn’t imagine. “I'm glad to meet you, Sue." I stood up on the cot to wrap a blanket around Christian's shoulders and sat down next to him. "I can stay with him if you need to rest."

"We have some cots... they're not much, but they beat the ground." My “big brother” gestured further down the tunnels.

Sue shook his head. “Thanks, but I'll be hangin’ around for a bit. Gotta keep an eye on him, and I'd prefer if my eyes are included.”

“Is there any medication that would help him?” I glanced up at Sue and Ryan.

“I don't know about down here,” Sue clicked, an edge of bitterness in his voice. “But we don't get medicine up in the Stain.” I hadn’t heard a Poleepkwa call D-10 that before. “Unless you know the right people, we get jack shit.”

“We have some medications... but most of it is for pain.” Ryan rummaged through a stack of plastic first aid kits piled in a corner. “The only thing that might take his mind off it might get him addicted to that instead.”

“Are they that strong?” Christian’s dark eyes widened. “If it can lessen the pounding within my skull, I would love it.”

My mouth-tentacles curved upward in a grin. “Still our Professor Christian. And we'll need you to be the politician soon...”

“Yes. We really do need you.” Ryan sighed, handing him two white capsules. “If I could do it, I would go for you.”

Christian leaned back and swallowed them, then hugged the drab grey blanket around his shoulders. “Politician? What have I stumbled into?”

Ryan patted my sharp-plated back. “You tell him, okay? I’ll get them some food.” I’d scarcely realized that he was wearing his “signature hat” until he rested it on my own head, pushing down my antennae.

I took a deep breath. “An opportunity. I would do it myself, but I know you're the best choice. ARFA has given us a chance to speak to the world.”

"Man, you guys are into some deep shit here. Acronyms n' everything.” Sue’s grin was lopsided. “But if anyone's gonna hop into the Fryer and talk with the top holders, then it's Christian here. He's got more words in ‘em than I care to listen to.”

I laughed. “That's just what I thought when I first met him. And you're right about...what we're into.” I met Christian’s eyes. “How much does he know? We should get him to the bases with the next group of refugees.”

Sue grunted. “He ain't told me shit; I just got a mind to piece things together. I also ain't goin’ nowhere. Got too many guys to take care of.”

 Christian’s posture straightened. “As you can see, Sue is about as independent as I am. I doubt you'll be able to make him leave.”

 “He's seen our tunnels, but if you trust him then I do.” I sighed. “Sue, I guess you've figured out that your friend isn't from here. He's part of an...organization, obviously. We get our people out of here, and try to educate as many as we can.”

I paused, my own words seeming horribly inadequate. “When you're better, Christian, we'll figure out how to get you to the capital safely. I have an idea...but we'll see. We need someone to convince the UIO that the South African government has to let MNU's contract expire, and let Tanukashi take over. You're the 'man' for the job.  We got an e-mail from ARFA today. With the documentary, the news report...now is the time.”

Sue chuckled. I could scarcely hear him mutter, “Man.”

“Then I had better sober up quick. There is work to be done.”

I hesitated for a moment, and then threw my arms around his neck in a tiny, childlike hug. “Yes. There is.”

Knowing

 

The Elder's red-gold eyes seemed to glow with quiet patience, in a black-plated face grown brittle and pitted with age. “When you think of Christian, what do you endure? Does your entire mind and body worry for him?”

 

“Yes.” I met his eyes. Akra seemed to draw honesty from me, without words or even effort. “I imagine that filthy factory and Christian crushed beneath rusted equipment, or burned to death in an open furnace.”

“It is perfectly understandable, little one. Yet when you master your mind, you will be able to feel concern for our friend without letting it overtake you completely.”

I swished my head-antennae in understanding, though such mastery was still far from my grasp. Christian had left for the factory on Friday, bleary-eyed and exhausted. Saturday and Sunday passed, and Eric searched for him aboveground while Akra sought information in MNU's database. If he was in their hands, it was anonymously. No Poleepkwa bearing his head tag was registered as "held for questioning," or dead. My nightmares became litanies of factory abuses, bloodstained machinery and cattle prods. I stayed awake most nights, trying to comfort the rescued children and helping Dayna and Akra tend to the eggs.  They would be transported to the Texas base soon.

 He seemed about to speak again, before the familiar sound of shifting gravel and stones reached us from further down the tunnels. Two sets of footsteps, human and Poleepkwa, echoed from the outside entrance. I sprang to my feet. "Nick and Ryan!" I laughed "They're back!"

I raced to greet them. I hadn't seen my "big brother" since Wednesday, when he'd headed out across the desert night with those two dealers....I rounded a corner, and stopped cold.

Ryan's pale brow was furrowed, green eyes darting about as though he were lost within the tunnels he had helped dig himself. His face, his shirt, practically every inch of his body was stained with soot, ash and blood. Nick stood grinning beside him, his broad Poleepkwan shoulders loose and relaxed.

I faced Ryan, clenching my tiny black hands so tight that they ached. "What did you do?"

Nick shrugged. "We got our information, that's what we did." He tried to walk past me, but Akra gently stopped him. 

"Information? You look like you blew up a butcher shop!"

A weak grin spread across Ryan's troubled face. "Well, not a butcher shop..."

"Sure smelled like one, though." His Poleepkwan friend chuckled; Ryan flinched.

"Please don't bring that up, again. We just got out."

"Sorry, sorry; just can't get it out of my head, that's all."

I heard the Elder take a deep breath as he guided them to rest on a wobbly stool and a battered, empty crate. "Please sit down, both of you. And tell me what happened."

Ryan shook his head and sighed, gritting his teeth at Akra. "Sonuvabitch, I just want to wash off and forget about it. We made it to the docks, and we got what we needed."

"Let's just say it quick and skip the unnecessary details." Nick's half-smile seemed almost bored. "We'll have to do this sometime, so might as well do it now." 

"Look..." I struggled for the words. "I don't care if you killed someone...not if it was someone like Ajjedres! But I thought that you were just going to find the docks. What happened?"

Ryan wouldn't meet my eyes. "How about we stop questioning the methods, and start accepting the reward?"

The Elder rested a gentle hand on Ryan's shoulder. "What is the reward? I understand that you’ve both been through something very difficult. I only want to know what you have accomplished, and how."

The human looked ready to scream, but bit his lip. "We know who's running things here in D-10, as far as the egg trade is concerned."

Nick pushed against him slightly, like young brothers elbowing each other before a questioning parent. "Just say it."

I didn't realize that Akra was holding me back until I struggled against his restraining hand. "Yes, just say it!"

Ryan grimaced down at me, yet his eyes seemed almost pleading. "Did you want the details? Did you really want to know what we did to them?"

I felt a cold stone of dread in my gut. "...You have 'information.' You did something awful. Those dealers…it sounds like you tortured them."

"Ding, ding!" There was an odd edge to Nick's laugh.

"I'm not saying it in front of her!" Ryan broke in, nearly shouting.

"We have a winner!" The other finished. "That pretty much hits the nail on the head." Ryan glared at him, eyes smoldering. 

Nick met his gaze. "Look, we have to acknowledge what we did and remember it. Because those men sure as hell won't be forgetting us." 

"I won't let her know that side of me."

I scarcely felt body go limp, slowly sinking to the hard earth. "I...I don't know what to say. We're just trying to rescue my people! Are you determined to become a terrorist? Because you're called that?"

Ryan stood very still, his posture hard and straight. "I am determined to do whatever it takes to see your people safe. What we did was for no other reason."

Nick's head-antennae swished in agreement. "We can't always play it nice. The world is not black and white; there are plenty of shades of gray...we went to the darker shade of white a few days ago. We did what we had to do to get the names. To know which grunts are selling to the dealers, when, and where. And who’s in charge."

My voice shook. "And what do you think is going to happen now? We just take everyone on your list of names, and kill them?"

"No! We work smarter, not harder." Ryan folded his arms across his bloodstained chest. "Our goal isn't to start a bloodbath—"

"It's too late for that!" I nearly hissed out the words.

"We're trying to stop an injustice!" He continued. "I thought you would understand... these are people, our people, being sold to scumbags as pets, or worse!"

"You mean my people!" I shot back. "Of course I understand! I was sitting there, in that crate with Jacob after Ajjedres...after he did that! But I also understand torture!  I saw Kurt!" Ryan stumbled backwards as though I'd struck him. Almost imperceptively his own hands balled into dirt-caked fists, ready to return the blow.

Akra knelt down and laid a consoling hand on my small back. "Sherry, please think for a moment. The past cannot be undone, and we must maintain our solidarity. Whatever he has done has been out of love. You know that he is not the vicious creature that Kurt is."

Ryan tore his gaze from me, directing his words soley at Akra. "I made them the same offers I’ve proposed to Volker, and to Kurt. We made them aware of their choices."

"We won't know how valuable their information is until we start hunting down the people on the list." He seemed calm, thoughtful, ignoring my outburst and looking only at the Elder. "As for what I've lost...well," He looked down thoughtfully. "I've lost more than my sanity a long time ago."

Ryan shook his head. "Begging your pardon, Elder?"

Akra sighed. "Go ahead, Ryan. There is much to consider, but it can wait." Ryan's motions were stiff as he walked away, disappearing into the recesses of our tunnels to wash the blood from his hands.

Nick only smiled. "All right then. I'll see you guys later." He followed Ryan, his body at ease, arms nearly swinging with each step.

***

The Elder didn't chide me. We only sat together, practicing my calming exercises for what must have been nearly an hour. When I sought out Ryan again, my chest no longer burned with anger. I found him sitting with Dayna on the edge of a cot, speaking quietly.

"She's afraid of the monsters at MNU, she's afraid of all the monsters she’s known…" The young human nearly whispered. "I don't want her to be afraid of me."

Dayna shook her head. "You're not a monster"

"What I did... was close to it. And she was treating me like I was one." Dayna's eyes met mine. She leaned forward to hug Ryan, gave him a quick kiss on the forehead, and left us. I walked slowly, studying his face as I hesitantly took her place beside him.

"I...don't know what to say." I began. "I don't think you're a monster."

His green eyes were pained, exhausted. "You compared me to Kurt, and then want to say you don't think I’m a monster? Those dealers took lives away from our people...they deserve to have the same thing happen to them." I suppressed an instinctive flinch as his hands moved, he was only gesturing. "We were merciful, not just."

"Why do you keep saying our people?"

"That's how I see them. You’re just as much my people as Dayna. Or do you see my kind as being below your race?"

I sighed deeply. "Below? I think that humans are brutal.  And I kept telling myself that you were a special kind of human who isn't. Then you came in looking like that..."

He gritted his teeth. "So, what do you think of me?"

I faced him, my small hands reaching out in a pleading motion. "I'm confused, that's what! You were so reluctant to kill Volker, and that was quick and easy. But you didn't have any problems torturing people? I know they did awful things...."

"Because pain for a short time is less horrible than death forever." His voice was firm.  "Kurt tortured and then murdered. These people can still live their lives, though they don't deserve to. Well, one of them chose death. But I offered them everything I offered to Kurt and Volker!"

I buried my face in my hands. "‘Pain for a short time is less horrible than death forever?’ I really don't think that’s true. And I know how it feels...I want to drill through Kurt and tear him apart. I want to make Ajjeres hurt the same way he hurt Jacob. But I never expected this from you, Ryan! Just because you thought these people deserved it?"

He shook his head. "I did what I did, because they refused to work with us. And to make sure those slavers wouldn't be able to do that again, to anyone. And, the others will be scared to try it…I’m not out for blood. We just have to stop them."

"But where does it stop?  And what do you want me to say, Ryan? I've been telling myself every day that I'm with a group of humans who are different from every single one I've known. Humans who don't rape or torture anyone. Now I find out I was wrong about that, the ‘specialness.’" I teared up slightly. "Big brother, I love you. I just don't know what to think!"

"If we hadn't hurt them, then they'd still be doing what they were doing!" His eyes were bright with determination. "If we hadn't done horrible things, then they'd keep doing worse things. If we knew better ways to get them to talk, without hurting them, we would have used them. I’m not like Kurt, or Volker and Koobus."

My antennae drooped, my body itself seemed ready to collapse beneath its own weight. "This...is the world, then? You're the one who has always told me that there's more to this world than what I've known. More than suffering, violence, slavery..."

"There is more." His voice became low, strained. "But, not very much. Even the greatest thing on Earth can be taken away with just a bullet."

I stared at him, searching for the person I knew. "What happened to you, Ryan? Honestly, that's what I really care about. I thought you had so much hope..."

"It's...getting harder to hold onto that hope." He leaned forward heavily. "All these things I’ve been trying to do, and I can't really do any of them. I make promises to you, like the birthday party…but I can't deliver. We do what we can, but it doesn’t seem to make any difference."

"But how is that possible? We've saved lives.  We've spread the word about my Father. We've started the schools...I’m alive, when I thought I’d die in that cage. What did you expect? That we'd take down MNU in a few months?"

"No…" He paused. "I guess I just wasn't ready for so much waiting. We almost got to tell the world. But who out there wants to listen?"

"We did tell the world. Some people listened. It's better than nothing..."

"I’m losing hope that you're wrong." His tone became flat. "I want you to be wrong...I want to believe that people are basically good. Because, if you're right... then I’m going to be left behind in a world of hate, violence, and evil."

"Wait." I held up my hands. "You came here; you dug these tunnels expecting something huge, something soon. You don't just want a better world, you expect it. When I found you and Eric...I didn't expect anything. I'd been expecting to live the rest of my life in a box. We're coming from opposite places here." I shook my head. "If you want someone to tell you all about how good your kind can be, it’ll be our missing Professor, not me! But I think he should. Because...if you think that humans are terrible, then you'll probably act that way." I reached out, taking both of his hands in my own. "I need some good humans, Ryan. Please."

Freedom

 

“You’ll let me do this?”

Ryan nodded gravely and smoothed back my antennae with a warm, gentle hand. “You’ve always been ready to put yourself in danger for the good of others.” He said, once we’d written down every detail, even drawn out a diagram on my computer. “I’d rather know where you were, and be waiting to rescue you, than leave you behind and be afraid that you were doing something stupid.” He gave a boyish half-smile, tipping his hat back slightly. “Like blowing up a building."

We must have spent three hours working out our plan. “Christian knows a few cat food addicts from the factory.  Some of them have traded their own eggs—or children—for a ‘fix.’” I sighed, fighting the urge to shut my eyes to this world. Instead, I focused them on my “big brother.” “Nick will tell them that I’m his child, and he wants to make that trade…"

The instant we revealed our plan to Akra he lurched backwards, shaking his head vehemently.  

“This is exactly what I said before, little one. You’re trying to destroy yourself.” He lifted me up in his arms. “For Christopher? Just to prove yourself to your father when he returns?”

“No!” My mouth-tentacles splayed out defiantly. “It’s not about that. This is just the only way I can think of to stop these dealers. We’ll intercept the van; I won’t be in any real danger. And they won’t know it’s me. I can’t do anything about the lab scars on my skin, but Nick had the idea of using a sander to camouflage the pieces missing from my shell-plates. I’ll blend right in.”

He rested his hands on my shoulders. “This…could work. But we cannot use you. There are others…”

“Adults, sure. Like you, Eric and Nick. But it’s children the dealers want most! Older Poleepkwa are more trouble, Kurt said.” I paused, my yellow-green eyes boring into his wise, red-gold ones. “And you wouldn’t do this with any of the other kids! Not Jared or his friends, not Talia! I’m the best choice. I know what I’m getting into.” I smiled up at him, trying to exude confidence. “You care about me. I understand. But the others will be in more danger, really—I’ll just be sitting in a van!”

“Sherry, have you forgotten? If anything happened to you…the hive cannot take another blow like that. And I...I could not take another blow like that.” He blinked, ancient eyes shining with love and concern. “I will not see my child lost to those fiends.”

I wrapped my arms around his thick, strong neck. “I love you, Elder. And I’ll be okay. No one is going to kill me! The last thing they’ll do is destroy their own ‘property.’ Besides, don’t you trust Ryan and the others? They’ll have me back here soon, I promise.”

For a long time Akra sat with me, still and silent. He nodded once, infinitely slowly, his countenance heavy with acceptance. “I know you want to do this. I understand…and I trust you, little one. Please be careful.”

***

 Nick shuffled towards the MNU merc that Christian’s friend had pointed out to us. The older Poleepkwa made a show of dragging me along behind him—his eyes looked glazed and empty, his hands trembled. Every inch of Nick’s slim body seemed to scream junkie as we approached Ajjedres.

He yanked my small body in front of him like a shield before daring to speak to the man. “Sir…” The sound came out low and hoarse as the heavyset, dark-skinned grunt turned to face us.

“Whaddya want, Prawn?” The man’s eyes were bloodshot.

I felt the tension in Nick’s hands, the hesitation. But he shoved me forward so hard that I stumbled, almost falling against the human’s legs. “Ten cans.”

“Ag, little shrimp ain’t worth it. I’ll give ya five.”

“Fine, fine.” Nick clicked, holding out his hands.

Ajjedres reached into his backpack and absently handed him one can after another, then turned away. Pain lanced through my wrists as the human pinned them behind me, pinching my skin with zip-tie cuffs. Disappear, Nick. Disappear, and watch. It’s all right. I thought.

I stifled a shriek as his black-gloved hand gripped my right antenna and yanked, pulling me along behind him as though with a leash. I stumbled, trying to quicken my pace to his.

“C’mon, rat.” He opened a tent flap that looked like any other, but it held two packing crates like tall, short coffins. He shoved the butt of his gun into my back, but I didn’t budge. “Get in.”

“W…wait.” My voice became a high, strangled squeak. “Eggs go in boxes. Not me, not again...” The words slipped out, and I braced myself for his gun and fists. But Ajjedres only glanced down at me quizzically, and then sighed.

“Here, Prawn. Take the edge off, eh?” He sounded almost kind as he knelt down, opened a small blue can of cat food and held it up to my face. The smell was indescribable—like the freshest, smoothest, sweetest meat mixed with bitter tar and bile. Involuntarily I felt my mouth-tentacles twitch towards it, dipping into the soft pink substance.  I shuddered, then clamped my jaws shut and wrenched myself away from his delectable poison.

The human’s face twisted with frustration.  “Fook you, do it then!” His foot impacted the small of my back and I fell forward, into the box and total darkness as the lid latched above me. I didn’t realize I was screaming until I felt his boot slam against the thick wood, against my head. “Quiet there or my prod’s going up your ass.” I held my breath, and he was silent.

Sit up, Sherry. I ordered myself with Father’s voice in my mind. Sit up. It’s not the same cage. You’re getting out.

My arms felt numb behind me as I struggled upright, leaning against the splintered wood. It was less than a meter high, and my sore antennae brushed against the top. Starlight danced behind my eyes; the subtle promise of a safe world inside my own mind. I shook my head furiously and tried to think only of Akra, and his wisdom. Breathing in, I calm my body. Breathing out, I live. After a dozen breaths I finally stopped shaking. I whispered his words aloud, “Everything you see, all that you feel...it passes over you, but it is not you. When we let the pain be around us, rather than become us, then we can find a measure of peace.”

I repeated this over and over, as my eyes adjusted to the faint light seeping through the tiny gap between the container and its locked cover. But the light faded to dim evening before the lid creaked open again.

Ajjedres moved on unsteady legs, his eyes even more reddened than before. But he still managed to shove two unresisting children into the box—no, I told myself, the crate—with me and slam the lid again. I glimpsed their faces in the brief flash before we were sealed in together. Two pairs of hungry, sallow orange-gold eyes were surrounded by dark moss-green plates. Their wrists were bound like mine, but they seemed to cling together as only siblings could. The smaller one’s thigh-plates were stained with blood. 

“I’m…my name is…” My mind went blank. Officially I was not Sherry, not Olivia… “Hope.” I whispered to the one crammed in next to me. He looked about twelve years old.

For a long moment he didn’t speak. “Mine’s Alex. What kind of a stupid name is that?”

I laughed weakly. “An imaginary one. When we get free, I’ll tell you my real name.”

He grunted. “I don’t think we’re getting ‘free.’ That man said we’re making him some money.”

I heard a choked moan in the darkness. “Jacob, quiet!” The older one hissed.

“Your little brother…” I whispered. “What happened?”

Alex’s voice was hard, yet tinged with resignation. “One of the guards got him.”

We both fell silent as the top opened again. There was little space left, but Ajjedres stuffed it full of eggs, pushing us so far to the side that Alex’s shell-plates scraped against mine. I counted at least six before the lid slammed shut.  The three of us kept silent as we heard the dull roar of an engine—something small, like a regular truck or a van. Not one of the armored MNU caspers.

Boots and tires ground against the dirt, and human voices rose. I strained to hear them. “Aweh!” Ajjedres’ tone was unmistakable. “Howzit, my brah?”

“No, fine.” The other voice was higher, impatient. “You got the eggs?”

“What eggs, man? If you’re hungry, I’ve got some biltong.” He laughed.

“Don’t play stupid. You got the Prawns?”

“Aw, you’re no fun.” A lighter clicked; he inhaled deeply. “They’re in the tent.”

“All dozen? Got any big ones this time?”

“We got you a baker’s dozen, brah, ‘cuz we love ya so much. And six Prawnlings in there.”

“What the hell you saying? How many?”

“Ag man, there’s thirteen eggs.” His voice rose in irritation. “And six Prawns. Can’t you fookin’ count?”

“How’s your mind?” The dealer sighed. “Load them up already, dof!”

“…Eh? Ag man, you’re right.” He paused. “Hey Smoker, get those Prawnies out of the bakkie. Take out the dinges that’s attached, too.”

Smoker made a snickering noise. “Sure thing, bru.” I heard metal door hinges creak, and remembered what Olo had mentioned about boxes of eggs and Poleepkwa being smuggled in white, windowless vans. Wood was being dragged across dirt; they must have been moving the other crates.

“So how much we gettin’?” Ajjedres’ voice was eager.

“For the dozen and shrimp? This.”

“Eish, that ain’t much.” They haggled as our box was dragged and lifted, jostling me against Alex in the tiny space. Jacob whimpered louder, but no one seemed to hear him.

“Oh?” The irritated voice must have been a dealer. “If you want to pull out now, that’s fine with me.”

“Eish! I’ll take it, man.”

“Fine.”

“Lekker! Well, I’ll be seein’ ya.”

Doors slammed around and behind us, the van started again. I could dimly hear one dealer grumble to the other, “Fookin’ gesuip MNU grunts.” I focused only on breathing as we stopped—probably at the gate, where a few more rand notes exchanged hands and we sped up, out of District 10. 

“Listen.” I whispered. “I can’t say what’s going to happen, but I promise we’ll be okay.”

“Huh?” Alex clicked. He shoved his weight against my side, our shell-plates rasping as they ground together. “And stop smushing me.”

The humans probably couldn’t hear me—I wanted to blurt out everything. That Nick had watched us leave, and even now my ARFA friends were arming themselves and piling into three trucks. But I remembered my mistake at the school, and kept silent.

Daddy, I thought, if you could see them, you’d be proud of the people coming to rescue us. Humans and Poleepkwa both. A kind young man named Ryan who treats me like a little sister, and his beautiful friend Dayna who looks at us all evenly, like we’re way more alike than different. Eric, a really strong and quiet Poleepkwa who was the first to take me in when I was just a starving, limping kid. Nick, who charges into danger with an adventurous smile.You’ll meet them one day, on that day when there are no more boxes and only the stars of freedom…

“Not okay.” Jacob moaned softly. “We’re gonna die. I’m so cold…”

“No.” I shushed him. “Just hold on, please! There’ll be help…”

“My insides are broken.” His voice seemed distant, and I suddenly felt a tiny rivulet of something sticky and warm on the wood beneath me. Jacob was still bleeding. “The man said to follow him, or he’d take his prod and…” He broke into a sob. “I ran. I shouldn’t’ve run.”

“Jacob.” I whispered, forcing my voice past a thick lump in my throat. That man had done to him...what he'd threatened to do to me. “You will survive. Humans do these things to us, even each other! But I know a few really amazing humans…and there’s a world beyond this box, and a universe beyond that! It’s all waiting for us. We only need to hold on—“

“Ag! What the fook?” The dealer cried out as the van swerved wildly, skidding and knocking me against Alex, against the hard crate. “Get the guns!” The two humans swore and scrambled about as they slammed on the brakes, just before a front window shattered.

Yes! I heard a clatter and breathed in bitter smoke. “It’s tear gas!” I hissed the words at Alex and Jacob. “Your eyes and throat will sting, but it won’t hurt you! They’re getting the dealers!”

Shouts and gunfire tore through the air for an instant. I struggled uselessly against the plastic cuffs as my eyes watered and mouth-tentacles itched—then my heart seemed to leap from my chest as I heard the creak of the back doors swinging open.

“In here!” I screamed. “In here, hurry! Jacob needs help, he’s bleeding!” Poleepkwan and human voices swore as the crate flew open, and Eric’s black and green-plated face appeared above me half-covered like a bandit. I tried to leap from the box, but my legs felt numb. Eric cut through the tie around my wrists.

“Get Jacob!” I cried out as Eric lifted me up and out, setting me down on the cool sand. I struggled to my feet and stared about at the moonlit desert night. Nick and Ryan held the two dealers at gunpoint, disarmed and kneeling. Ryan’s Kevlar vest looked like it had taken a few hits, but he seemed unhurt—and his eyes shone when he saw me.

“Poleepkwan Princess!” I think he grinned; his face was covered like Eric’s. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! Jacob is…”

“He’s hurt, but he’ll survive.” Eric sighed. I spun around to see him wrap the child in a blanket and hand him to Dayna, then pry open the other crate and lift out three wide-eyed children.

“Can you walk?” She asked me, gently setting Jacob to rest on the passenger seat of her truck. I saw that the two ARFA trucks formed a “V,” boxing in the dealers’ van.

“Yes.” I flexed my legs, trying to reawaken them.

She reached out her hand. “Let’s get the children and eggs in here. We’ll take care of Jacob’s…wounds back in the tunnels.” When the crates were empty Ryan and Nick urged the two humans back into their van. I knew the plan—they would be used to find the next checkpoint, probably at a loading dock.

My “big brother” hugged me for a brief moment, and then climbed into the white van. “Go on, go with Dayna.” I obeyed, collapsing into the bench-like seat beside Jacob and the others.  We still sat crowded together, but were unbound, uncaged. And finally safe again.

***

“Sherry!” Jared met us in the tunnels and threw his arms around me. A snorting laugh escaped me as my feet left the ground. “She did it! Talia talked again!”

His hug was almost forceful, but brief. In a moment he set me down. “That’s…that’s wonderful! What did she say?”

He gestured with both arms further down the tunnels. “’Home!’ She pointed up at the sky and said, ‘home!’ Then she talked about a big blue jungle and stuff. You told her all that?”

“Of course! Can I talk to her?”

“Sure!” The older child grabbed my hand, and then stopped. “Wait. What’s wrong with your fingers?” His eyes narrowed as he leaned down to scrutinize them.

My antennae twitched quizzically. “Nothing, why?”

“Is too!” He held his own hand up against mine—showing that his three fingertips reached several inches further, and seemed far more pointed. “They’re stubby.” Jared said bluntly.

I flexed both hands, turning them about. “I…suppose so.”

He cocked his head to the side. “How old are you, anyway?”

My back straightened defensively. “I’m eight! Didn’t you know that?”

His antennae twitched no. “Well, you’re not around me and the other kids much. Anyway, you’re small for eight.” He smirked slightly. “Even though you talk like a grownup.”

I poked him in the lower chest with my sub-arms and forced a smile, eager to change the subject. “Well, my family is very smart. Father’s piloting the mothership right now, and my little brother can fix anything!”

“Showoff.” Jared grunted, but he was smiling.

I shrugged. “Sorry. Where’s Talia? That way?”

“Yeah.” I followed him to the Elder’s blue-lit room, where the beacon’s holodisplay of our homeworld reflected in the little one’s round, wide eyes.

“Talia.” I knelt in the dirt so her yellow-green eyes met my own. “Your big brother is so proud of you! So am I…” I smiled. “You told him all about the jungles of Dlur’kah? About home?” She nodded but averted her eyes, silent again.

“That’s great!” I pressed on. “Remember how many moons our planet has?” She shook her head. “It’s okay. Daddy taught me a rhyme when I was little.”   

Gather round and count them,

Each one along with me.

Umka, bright volcano-red,

Illrune of methane seas.

Tiny frozen Tar’linka,

Lanixu’s orange-white haze—

Each moon circles in its time,

Months or years or days.

Silver-white Kinmekte follows

Narlilk’s long, slow spin…

Jumpgate flashes, and we’re home,

To seven moons again!

I clasped her hands in my own. None of these moons were inhabitable, of course, but I could clearly imagine their beauty. “Will you chant it with me? Gather round and count them…”

Her voice was low and hoarse; each sound seemed to force its way through the disused passage of her throat. But she repeated the words, slowly, with gathering strength. “Gather round…and count them…”

“Fantastic!” I grinned. “Each one along with me…”

“Woah.” Jared rested a hand on my shoulder. “You’re shaking. Lay down.”

“Oh.” I stopped. “It’s…been a long day.” I sank to the hard dirt floor, leaning against the wall behind me. Somehow, I couldn’t release my grip on Talia’s tiny, three-fingered hands. My vision seemed to blur as I pulled her close.

“Each one along with me…” She clicked softly, resting her head on my shoulder.

“Umka, bright volcano-red…” My eyelids felt heavy. Exhaustion finally overcame me, safe beneath the earth once again. I think I bungled the next line, and whispered to the child in my arms, “Umka, bright volcano-red…please Daddy, set us free.