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."