Survivors, p.34
Survivors, page 34
“So Devians can have kids?”
Katriana nodded. “Of course. Not all will want to, but there’s a lot of societal pressure to have them. Some same-sex Devians quietly produce the required two kids, then do what they want to do behind closed doors, and that’s fine. Regardless of sexual orientation, Devians excel in one or more areas, and tend to be out-of-the-box thinkers. We need that, especially down here. You’d be surprised how many green-rock-plus-something-else pictures we let through, accidentally on purpose, while a Searcher is alone on a shift. Or a Searcher gets solidly pregnant, which helps with population growth down here and ensures the future of the Mars Bases, plus the other valuable skills and attributes they bring with them. We write a letter — gone to Mars Base — and they get a new assignment down here, formal or otherwise. Most of them never know they actually got selected for a new job. They think they’re just surviving up in the Mars Bases. Or not, but the younger ones have a higher survival rate, and a lot of them do very well. Look at Clive, for example. Sam’s father. Artist, blacksmith, inventor, manufacturing rods and pockets and rounds and a hundred other useful things based on a few tattered pages found in the ruins, and his own creativity. He’s absolutely brilliant, even though his artistic medium smells to high heaven. And there are plenty of others like him. Brilliant people who learn how to survive and thrive down here. Most of them are Devians, some of them have kids. And they lead they way for others.”
“So … is Sam a Devian, too, if Clive is?”
Katriana nodded. “He has all the signs. He just has boy-girl sexual preferences.”
“Oh.”
“It’s not about sex, Miya. Not to get selected for a job down here. We need talented people, the best. And the only way to sneak them off the Arks without raising too much suspicion is to make them Searchers and have them slowly disappear, or wait until they’re about forty and get ‘sent to Mars Base’ with all the rest. The best of the best are Devians, by definition, and some become Searchers. However, their abilities are essentially wasted up there. The Arks are in a holding pattern. No visible progress, stagnant, and that’s intentional. This is where the real action is, the future of the human race and everything else. Down here on Earth, paving the way for the rest, in secret, until the time is right.”
Miya smirked. “That’s really sneaky, you know.”
Katriana nodded. “We have to be. Oversight knows the number of Searchers up there is getting dangerously thin, suspiciously so. We’re not sure what to do about that, as a sudden influx would cause more questions, and that’s an entire set of problems on its own. We desperately need them down here, but someone needs to train the new Searchers up there to keep up appearances. It’s a tricky balancing act.”
Miya sighed. “But I’m just me, Kat. Nothing special.”
“Wrong.” Katriana shook her head. “You’re smart, Miya, really smart. That, on its own, can come with lots of problems. Well, usually, but not always. One in a million.”
Miya frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
Katriana sighed and pointed at her nose. “You break things, Miya. But you also follow the rules, to the letter. You’re smart, you learn fast, and you strive to improve, every day. You work hard at it, even when you’re not aware you’re doing it. Frankly, it’s a bit intimidating. You became an Octopus at sixteen, Miya. Sixteen.”
Miya shrugged. “So? There were a couple of seventeen-year-old Octopuses I heard about.”
“Did you actually meet them? Any of them?”
Miya paused. “Well, no, because the Underworld is a big place, lots going on, things are busy. They were just in other sectors, working. They were busy, so I never met them.”
“No.” Katriana shook her head. “You never met them, because they didn’t exist. But we couldn’t have you think you were the only one. The only weekend Octopus kid in Sanitation, ever. So we made the others up, stories and rumours.”
Miya stared blankly at Katriana. “But Kasem said — he talked about—”
Katriana shook her head slowly. “Oversight told Kasem to say that to you. To make up the stories. You couldn’t think you were special, Miya.”
“Kasem lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“You — Oversight — forced him to do it.”
“No. We asked him to, and he agreed. We didn’t give him a lot of details, but enough to make sure that he kept you in the dark, so to speak, so you didn’t get too big for your britches, or have a swelled head. He’s been around a long time, Miya, and he’ll die up there, eventually, from old age. But he, and quite a few others in the different specialities, are always looking.”
“Looking for what?”
“Talent. Raw talent. Aptitudes, capability, personality, lots of things.”
“For what?”
“To help Oversight with Selection, of course. You could have ended up in Sanitation, Miya. Kasem recommended you highly for it.”
“I would have been happy there.”
Katriana sighed. “And you would have been exceptional, and you would have been the new Poseidon once Kasem finally turned his last valve. Ark Three would have benefited greatly from your contributions. You have skills, but you also engender loyalty, and you return it in spades. The smartest people usually are the worst with other people, as in having poor people skills, but not you. You could have thrived and grown old in Sanitation. Maybe.”
“So why am I not standing up there with a wrench in my hand?”
“Because.” Katriana gave Miya a small smile. “You asked for something else.”
“Dad did talk to someone, then. About what I said at dinner that night. That I wanted to be a Searcher.”
“Yes, he did. But that was window dressing. Oversight already heard your request.”
Miya snorted. “People don’t get to choose their jobs, Kat.”
“Most people don’t. But you did.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Katriana shrugged. “Okay.”
Miya put her hands on her hips. “Okay? What the hell does that mean?”
“Nothing. But you got to choose, Miya. They wanted to see what you would do, how you would perform, in whatever job you expressed an interest in.”
“Why?”
“Ah.” Katriana smiled. “Now, that’s getting dangerously close to the discussion you’ll be having in a couple of minutes.”
“Maybe we should keep walking, then. We might be late.”
“Oh.” Katriana turned and walked slowly alongside Miya. “We’re already late, but that’s fine. We’ll hurry it slow, like you said. They might be busy when we get there, and then you’ll have to wait, but then that’s just fair. Balanced, you might say.”
“Okay,” said Miya. “So I got to choose my job.”
“You did. And lots of other things, too.”
“I didn’t choose Thomas. Random, you said.”
“Uh … no. Thomas was put in your way.”
Miya grabbed Katriana’s arm. “Thomas was put in my way? What the hell does that mean? He’s my husband!”
Katriana stared down at Miya’s hand gripping her arm. Miya let go.
“Thomas was a challenge. A reasonable genetic match, or not a non-match, like I said, but he was selected for you, quite specifically. Searchers don’t usually get a second kick at the can to have a child, Miya. Most people, but not Searchers. Thomas got another chance with you. But he’d been damaged by what happened to me. So Oversight, which included my vote at the time, selected him for you.”
“Damaged.”
“Yes. He was terrified of what might happen to you, because of me, Miya. Yes, he was a Devian. But he lived through my conversion, which rarely happens. Those being accelerated usually just disappear. But Thomas is special in his own way, so he got to experience that with me. Not the actual surgeries, but the after, the convalescence. It was awful, Miya. He suffered. He was a Devian, yes, preferred boys, braved having sex with me before the conversion, but I was just a girl and didn’t know he was a Devian then. Just stand-offish. But I made him have sex with me. I wasn’t nearly as gentle as you were with my frustration.”
“I threw a scalding cup of tea at him.”
“No.” Katriana shook her head. “That was when you found out about your parents leaving without getting to say goodbye, your first day together out of the hospital, after you collapsed during Selection. I’m talking about after. You were pretty nice about the whole thing.”
“I yelled and screamed, Kat.”
“I did a lot worse. You know I’m impulsive and bitchy, and I slapped you, Miya. Even though you didn’t remotely deserve it. You’d done nothing to me. And I sent Thomas down to get eaten by cannibals, for fuck’s sakes. I’m a mess. And when I saw you, for the first time in the flesh, I saw red. And I slapped you.”
“So they made you become my friend because of that?”
Katriana nodded. “In that instant, all the plans changed. There had been a different plan, a different approach to orientation, a different set of tests, all planned out, with a few options to handle variables. And every one of them went down the toilet, all because my irrational, jealous impulses took over.”
“I broke your nose.”
“Yes, you did. I got a whole new set of tasks then. Before the slap, my job was otherwise effectively done. Welcome you and walk you to medical. I just had to get you there.”
“But why?”
“Next conversation.”
Miya shook her head. “Never mind. So you slapped me, I broke your nose, the plans changed. And those plans revolved around me?”
“Not just you. All four of you.”
“Okay. And that involved you dying.”
“Maybe.” Katriana shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t part of the original plan, as far as I know.”
“Okay. So … I selected myself for Searcher. But they selected Thomas for me as an obstacle.”
“Thomas needed to reject you, Miya.”
“We worked through that.”
“Yes, you did.”
“And now I’m here.”
“That wasn’t part of any plan. Nobody saw that coming, you self-selecting yourself off of the fucking Ark.”
“I was being chased.”
“You were being intercepted to have a conversation.”
“Before they dropped me, you mean.”
“You were going to be reassigned, Miya. You were going to stay on Ark Three with Thomas.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Okay.”
“Stop that. So I was going to be reassigned to — what? Back to sanitation?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Next conversation.”
“Fine. But you should tell me, you know.”
“That’s not my task. They’ll give me pain again, Miya. Pain, right in front of your eyes. I don’t want that for you.”
They walked up to an unmarked door and stopped.
“Okay. But I’m still not special. I don’t feel special.”
Katriana put a hand on Miya’s shoulder. “Well, you are. Especially to me, carrier-to-be of my children. But now, it’s time for your next appointment. Just inside that door.”
Miya turned to Katriana. “You’re not coming in with me?”
“No.” Katriana shook her head. “And all I’ll say is this, Miya. You being here shouldn’t be a surprise. You’re just a little early. Now, you shouldn’t keep him waiting any longer.”
“Who am I meeting?”
“The big boss. Your boss. The Administrator. Your job as an apprentice officially starts once you go through that door.”
“Shit,” said Miya. “How do I look?”
Katriana smiled. “You’re a mess, but you’re you. You’ll be fine. Now, shoo. I’ll be waiting here, right outside. That’s my next task. Waiting.”
“Okay…” Miya nodded at Katriana, took a breath, then put her wrist to the scanner. The door opened with a click, and she went inside to meet the big boss.
EBO - Day 12 - Revelations
Miya entered a brightly lit space, the sun streaming in through the windows on the far side of the room. She stood by the door, blinking, giving her eyes a few moments to adjust. When her vision cleared, she found herself in a large room, but it wasn’t an accommodation, it was more of an office. And the owner of the office, her new boss, was standing by the window, staring out. It was a strong silhouette, the man that was her boss. But he was busy, talking to someone on an earpiece, looking out, away from her.
But she was a squid, the newbie. She didn’t want to interrupt. Miya stood one step away from the door. She eyed the chair that sat three steps to her left, considered going to sit down in it while she waited, changed her mind. She stood.
Her cheek itched, and she scratched it. Dried out from being in salt water, maybe. She’d have to ask Katriana, later. She studied the figure silhouetted in the window, talking. Strong bearing, feet spread slightly apart, one hand at his side, the other touching his ear-piece, maybe holding it in. Perhaps not a very good fit. Miya had never used one, so she didn’t know how they were supposed to fit. The man spoke softly, sometimes earnestly, but a lot of the time he was silent, listening. And then a few soft words, nodding, then listening some more.
Miya eyed the chair, then shook her head. Her toes were getting pins and needles, so she stood on her toes and pumped up and down, in place, like she’d done in the snow, trying to keep them from freezing off during the blizzard while they waited for Sam to bring back Thomas. The snow of her memory almost didn’t seem real as she stood in this building, with the warm equatorial sun streaming in through the windows. But it had been real. She turned to look at a piece of abstract artwork on the wall opposite her. Blurred images, like a snowstorm. Fuzzy, indistinct. Clarence, the doctor, had died in a blizzard from a spear in the back put there by Simon, the murdering cannibal. Simon, who had then been burned to a crisp in a tree, right before her eyes. By a drone that Katriana, or Oversight, had been controlling at the time. It hardly seemed real now.
The man coughed. The man had finished talking to whoever he had been talking to. That’s fine. Miya the squid had been happy to wait, and not interrupt. Miya turned towards the window, surprised to find the silhouetted figure standing just a few steps away. She blinked against the bright sunlight. Something about the figure was familiar, somehow.
The figure coughed again and took two steps closer. Miya’s jaw fell, and she nearly did, too.
“Dad?” the blood drained from her face.
“Here.” He rushed over to grab her arm, then walked her back to the chair and sat her down. “Kat said we should have the chair right there. Best that you were sitting down when you found out. But you were standing, not sitting. Well, you never know. Too many variables.”
Miya looked around the room, her mouth working. “Where’s my boss? The Administrator? And how are you here?”
Her father walked over to the desk and dragged over a chair, then sat down facing Miya. “Your mother and I got dropped here, just like you. Well, not like you. But like everybody else.”
“Mum?” Miya stared blankly. “Where is she? Is she dead?”
“No.” Her father smiled. “She’s on tour. Just arrived in Antarctica. You’ll see her, but you’ll have to be patient. You can call her later.”
“Okay.” Miya stared around the room. “But I don’t understand.”
“That’s okay.” He smiled. “It was quite an adjustment for your mother and I, too. Nobody knows what happens when you get sent off to Mars Base, after all.”
“Right.” Miya blinked. “So where’s this Administrator, then? You were a councillor up there, but …”
Her father sat up straight, and his face transformed. “Well, first things first. While conducting official business, you will call me ‘sir’, ‘Administrator’, or by my first name. We try to keep things casual, even though what we’re doing here is vitally important.”
“Melvyn.”
“That’s my first name, yes.”
“Melvyn Meyers.”
“Yes.”
“We have the same initials.”
“Since your mother and I named you, yes.”
“That might get confusing. If you sign initials, you know. Full names, maybe.”
Her father smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“But you’re the boss. The Administrator.”
“Yes, I am. It was one hell of a shock for me, too. Apparently I was supposed to apprentice, like you, but the previous Administrator got herself eaten by lions in a trial zone in Africa.”
“That’s terrible.”
Her father shrugged. “A risk of living down here, as you well know. The ears around your neck make a profound statement, Miya.”
“They’re just ears on a string.”
“More of a trophy, I think?”
Miya shook her head. “I didn’t enjoy having to kill them, Dad. I was terrified. They’re a reminder of how close I came to death, that’s all.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And you want that reminder hanging around your neck?”
Miya sighed. “It doesn’t feel right to put them in a box. Then I’d be hiding from what I did. I’m not proud of what I did, but I’d do it again if I had to, to protect myself, or my friends.”
“I see. Well, that makes a lot more sense now. In days gone by, hunters made trophies made from animal parts to show off their prowess, and hung them on walls.”
Miya shook her head. “That’s not what they’re about at all. They’re a symbol, a reminder about life and death.”
“Okay.” He raised his hands. “You might need to share that story with people, if you’re going to wear them visibly.”
