Revenge of the chickens, p.23
Revenge of the Chickens, page 23
part #3 of Blocks Series
“Martha, there’s no point putting yourself though this every day. The hospital will tell us if anything changes.”
She didn’t turn her head to look at him. Martha stared fixedly ahead. “No point? This is your fault. You should be here every minute of every day begging for Ben’s forgiveness, begging for Eva’s forgiveness, praying for Lilly.”
Stuff was stung by the anger in Martha’s voice. “What are you talking about?”
Martha slowly got up and turned to face him. She wasn’t crying; his wife stared at him coldly as if he was a stranger, as if she was seeing him for the first time. “You were supposed to take us to Earth. We were the pathfinders. The Vanguard. That’s what you said, when you got us into those horrible pods. Trinity and Eva were going to look after us. What happened Stuff? Were you ever telling the truth? You’ve always kept things hidden. What have you really been doing Outside? Is that why Eva wouldn’t take us, wouldn’t save us? Because of your lies?”
Martha spat the last words out and then slapped him hard across the face. Stuff didn’t really feel anything; he didn’t really believe this was happening. He reached out to take her shoulders, “Martha, please.”
She shrugged away his hands and turned her back on him.
Work and school was a relief from the unbearable medical details of Ben’s condition and constantly wondering how Lilly might have died. Was it quick? Did she feel anything? Stuff hoped she wasn’t alone.
He’d never felt so isolated. Martha had erased him from her life. She didn’t want to see him or talk to him. She made sure he was out before she came home, and then it was only to collect fresh clothes before returning to the hospital. The worst part was knowing that she was right. He’d spent his life lying to her. The guilt was a constant pain in his chest. It tormented him and there was no relief to be had. There was no answer; telling her the truth now wouldn’t fix anything.
“Stuff, Tom’s here to see you.”
He looked up from staring at a paper-screen that he hadn’t been seeing. The numbers and words had been swimming about aimlessly for some time. In the days after the events in Hyde Park he’d blamed Tom for not looking after his kids. Later, he found out that Tom had lost his wife and elder son. It was Tom who’d dragged Ben out of the fire and saved him. They’d reconciled a while ago.
Stuff’s heart sank a little more. Most days it was bouncing along a rocky bottom. He guessed Tom had come to pull his kid out of school. There were so few left, the curfews and endless false alarms had taken their toll on attendance. Stuff nodded, stood up and stepped around his desk.
Tom looked awful, probably no worse than Stuff, yet there was something different about him. His friend was not just ragged, haunted, unshaven. Tom looked… frightened. Daisy closed the door and left them alone. Tom collapsed into a chair. Stuff sat on the corner of his desk and waited for Tom to settle himself.
“Would you like something to drink Tom, tea, coffee?”
“Whisky. If you have it?”
Stuff retrieved a bottle from his desk and a couple of glasses. “Are you alright Tom? Has something happened?” Stuff asked, as he poured the whisky.
Tom took the offered tumbler and downed the contents in one breathless gulp. Stuff refilled his glass and Tom held it in two hands close to his chest, perhaps drawing some comfort from its warmth.
“I’m sorry about your kids.”
“We got the flowers and the card, and that consultant you recommended was really helpful. Your family’s funeral was beautiful Tom.”
“Good. Thanks.” Tom’s head dropped, and he was silent. Stuff wondered if he was remembering the funeral for his wife and son. After a moment Tom looked up. “I came to warn you Stuff. They’re going to round up everyone with FMS, and any sympathisers. They’re talking about exile. Reals, or not.”
Stuff bit his lip and barely managed to stop himself from yelling; Good! Murdering Reals deserve worse, a lot worse. He reminded himself of all the friends he’d made at the FMS meetings. Not everyone with FMS was a terrorist. Tom had FMS. Why was Tom warning him? His stomach tightened. Did the authorities know he attended FMS meetings? He slowed his racing mind down. A simple medical test would prove he didn’t have FMS. A memory jumped out. Of course, he’d told Tom he had the syndrome. It was a cheap trick to win his confidence and help him to get set up in BB Town. “Exile? I don’t understand.”
“They’re going to build camps Outside, give everyone basic immunisation, some supplies and kick them out of the Ark.”
Stuff wanted his revenge on the Reals for what they’d done to Ben and Lilly, but this. “They won’t survive. That’ll be murder. It’s… wrong.”
“It’ll start in a few days. I’m taking my family and we’re disappearing. Thought you should know.” Tom downed his whisky and was up and walking through the door before Stuff could react.
Daisy appeared in the doorway. “Is Tom alright? What happened? He’s pulled his son out of school.”
Stuff was still trying to absorb everything Tom had said. Daisy’s unwanted interruption was infuriating. “Get out. Leave me alone,” he bellowed and slammed the door in her face. The loud rattling bang of the door against the frame was echoing around his office. He already felt guilty. Daisy didn’t deserve that. He would apologise later. Now he needed the time and the quiet, to sit and think. A word was scratching for attention. Something Tom had said, something he’d missed. Stuff closed his eyes and concentrated. They’re going to round up everyone with FMS and any sympathisers. Stuff’s insides curled up. His fist landed with a thump on the desk. He was a sympathiser. He’d been to their damn meetings. He clapped his hands to his head. They weren’t terrorists, they were just remembering, remembering the truth.
They had to know. He had to tell the others at the FMS meeting. There was one tonight. He hadn’t been planning on going.
He got up, grabbed his coat and ran out of the office past a bewildered Daisy and on home. Martha was staying overnight at the hospital. Something she’d been doing more and more. He didn’t like it; she was avoiding him. It was selfish, they were supposed to help each other through this. Stuff changed and rode his bike to the station. It was a bright evening, and warm. When he sat down in the train, he realised his marriage was over. She’d wait till Ben got better, or died, and then she’d leave. It would be a relief if she left. Then he wouldn’t have to pretend anymore that everything was going to be okay between them. The old woman opposite him in the carriage was looking at him. Tears were streaming down his face. She smiled at him and dipped her head in silent sympathy. There must be a lot of crying going on in the Ark.
The meeting was under way when he arrived. Donna was talking about how her memories were getting worse, more detailed, clearer, but they still didn’t make any sense. Stuff took a seat and put his hand up as soon as Donna finished.
Dave was clearly surprised. Stuff hardly ever spoke and when he did, it was all very vague. “Stuff?”
“A friend visited me this evening. He has FMS. He told me something awful which I have to tell you, then I’ll be leaving and I won’t be coming to any more meetings.” Stuff had their attention, they were sitting up straight and staring at him. Probably wondering if he’d gone mad.
“Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week but sometime soon; they’re rounding up everyone with FMS, Real or not.”
Paul snorted, “What the hell are you talking about Stuff? Who’s ‘they’?”
Darren yelled, “You been asleep Paul, you think Ark Admin is going to ignore the bombings? Do nothing?”
Dave stood up, “Let Stuff finish, then you’ll have a chance to say whatever you want.”
Stuff waited till he was sure everyone was paying attention. “Ark Admin’s going to build camps Outside. Everyone with FMS will be exiled.”
Bedlam erupted. Stuff expected as much. He hung his head, stared at his shoes, and waited for things to calm down.
Dave eventually got the meeting back under control, “Stuff, are you sure about this? Why would Ark Admin do that? We’re nothing to do with the Reals. They’re crazy.”
Stuff stood up and started putting on his coat, “I believe what I was told. You’ll have to decide for yourselves. No one knows who’s Real and who’s not. All the authorities know is that they’ve got FMS. So in a twisted way it makes sense to exile everyone with the condition.”
He didn’t wait to argue his case or answer the questions being flung in his direction. Stuff walked away. The meeting erupted into a chaotic jumble of raging arguments. Battery Boy was getting what he wanted, open revolt. The Reals had gone to war against the Ark. Too bad Battery Boy wasn’t here to see how wrong he’d been. The only ones getting killed and maimed were the chickens.
Chapter Nineteen – Caught
Mina was enraged and frightened. She banged on the walls with her fists, kicking out when her hands became sore. Tress sat quietly on the floor, hugging her knees tightly to her chest, rocking slowly back and forth. Battery Boy stood silently in one corner, leaning back, head bowed, staring impotently at his feet. No one had spoken since the Crawler had left only a few moments earlier. Mina guessed the impossibly young man Tress had tried to attack was Tippese. The golden Christmas tree with the bubble headdress was obviously Truculent, his blue braids and un-aged podgy features were unmistakable. Any chance of escape, revenge, or saving the Blocked had evaporated in an instant.
“Maybe the Hack can still work,” Mina said, the despair in her eyes betraying her own lack of belief.
“It’s over,” Battery Boy answered quietly, without looking at Mina.
Mina turned back to abusing the white wall until tiredness drained her venom. She slumped to the floor with the others. Her friends look so quietly terrified and beaten down; just the word ‘Band’ slipping from Tippese’s lips had switched off something behind their eyes.
Hours of thick silence crawled by. It was like watching someone blowing up a balloon and knowing they weren’t going to stop till it exploded. Their explosion was coming. She just didn’t know when. Mina couldn’t stand it. “Hey, you heard Truculent, he won’t Band us, he’ll just kill us. We’re way too old. See, there’s a good side to being ancient.”
Tress stopped her aimless rocking and tried to smile, though it barely marked her face. “That’d be good.” Her shadow of a smile faded away and her eyes filled with tears. “If not, kill me. Please.”
Mina didn’t know how much time had passed when a Crawler came to fetch them. It took them back to the Heaven House. Truculent, his fearsome white guards and Tippese were awaiting them. Truculent was sitting on a ridiculous gilded throne. A sour looking Tippese perched on a three-legged stool at his feet. Three ornate chairs were arranged in an arc facing Truculent.
“Please sit,” Truculent said.
Battery Boy was scanning the space. Mina hoped he wouldn’t try anything stupid. There was no escape. The old style Crawler was still floating behind them and Truculent’s white monsters were directly ahead. Tress moved first and took a seat. Battery Boy joined her, then Mina sat down.
“Good. Your ship wipes its logs every few seconds. Did you know that?”
Battery Boy shook his head, answering for all of them.
“Where’s Eva?”
So he was after Eva, Mina thought. “We don’t know. Why are you interested in Eva?”
Truculent smiled and leaned forward and fixed Mina with his eyes. “If I Band you? Would you know then?”
Behind her Battery Boy’s chair scraped the floor. Mina turned to look. He’d jerked backwards in his seat. Tress was wide eyed and shaking.
Truculent smiled, “You obviously wouldn’t like it. Would you?”
Mina could only shake her head.
“Then don’t force me. Eva sent you to destroy the Travel Way. Where did you come from?”
Mina didn’t see any point in lying. “A planet we called Eden. None of the constellations were familiar. We travelled there inside the Ark, a factory. There were many Gateways, Travel Way jumps. She sent us back in that Van, we were in hibernation for most of the journey.”
Truculent leaned back in his throne and appeared to be digesting Mina’s answer. His fingers drummed on the golden armrests. “Plausible. She’s farming Channels on your blood, isn’t she?”
Mina nodded.
Truculent furrowed his brow, “Why are you protecting her?”
Mina shook her head, and said in a low, tight voice, “We hate her nearly as much as we hate you.”
Truculent appeared surprised, even hurt, by Mina’s outburst. “It seems the Band will be necessary, if the chicken’s going to be rude.”
Mina couldn’t take any more of the idiot’s threats and taunts, or the torture he was putting her friends through. She exploded. “Damn you, Band me, then! But the answer will be the same. We don’t know where the bitch is.”
Truculent sat back and studied Mina carefully. “The Band is a crude mechanism. You couldn’t lie but you might not volunteer information that could help me. There are other techniques I could use, but they might kill a specimen as primitive as you. It’s a dilemma.”
Mina smiled, “Poor you.”
Truculent narrowed his eyes, “On the contrary, poor you. If I can’t find Eva, your whole species will regret it. You have two hours to tell me where Eva is. In four, you’ll witness the consequences of not telling me.”
They were returned to their bare room. Water and food was waiting for them and a door. Battery Boy gingerly opened it, revealing only a bathroom.
No one was hungry. They slumped to the floor.
“What’s he up to?” Mina asked. She was answered by a shrug and a shake of a head. They didn’t want to talk.
The three fell into silence. Mina stretched out on the floor. She couldn’t sleep but she tried to relax and think. Could they bargain with Truculent? Mina thought of asking Battery Boy, but didn’t. The Block would be listening, and anyway how could she believe anything Truculent said?
After four hours they were carried away, to somewhere new. It was a welcome distraction from sitting in the cold white room drowning in her own misery. Mina and the others had been brought to a long, narrow space. It was entirely featureless and clinically white, except for one wall which was utterly transparent or absent. She couldn’t tell which. There was definitely a much bigger space beyond but Mina couldn’t make any sense of it. With the Crawler gone, she carefully walked forward with her hand out in front of her. It collided with something invisible that felt warm. Feeling safe from falling she took down her hand and tried to work out where they were. At first, what she was seeing was unrecognisable, then slowly the different parts of the extraordinary landscape started to make sense. They were about twenty kilometres up, somewhere inside the outer Block wall, looking out across the Yard. Mina blinked, shook her head and stared again at an empty Yard. She had an unobstructed view to the other side of the Block, nearly fifty kilometres away. The space where the Yard had been, was empty. As her eyes followed the far wall down towards the Block floor, the view made her reel. She staggered backwards. Mina shook her head, it couldn’t be. Edging forward, she looked again. Block Seven had a floor of stars. By now Battery Boy was standing next to her, staring at the vast emptiness. Tress hung back, her attention focused on the floor.
Tress yelped in surprise, causing Mina and Battery Boy to turn away from the window. Truculent had appeared behind them and a little to one side of Tress. Startled out of her melancholy, Tress moved quickly to join Battery Boy. Truculent’s style of dress was unchanged, though the colours were more subdued. He wore a sea-green cone, studded with purple mini-Channels embroidered onto the stiff material, topped off with the same white Channel balloon-hat. His six white guards formed an arc behind him.
“You wouldn’t tell me where Eva is; this is the consequence,” Truculent said.
“What happened to the Yard,” Battery Boy asked, staring out of the window.
“I flushed it and every other chicken into space. Even Tippese. You’re the last of your kind in this factory.”
“You… killed… everyone?” Mina stuttered.
Truculent smiled and clasped his hands in front of him. “Unless they can survive in a vacuum, I would have to say, yes.”
Mina’s mouth opened and closed but no words came out. Tress had slumped against Battery Boy. Her face was white. Finally, she managed to croak, “Why?”
“Eva, the Shard, they’ve done something. We can’t make HIQ anymore. Channels, your blood it’s all worthless. If I’d found Eva, I’m sure we could have worked something out. Too late now.”
Mina threaded her hands through her hair and whispered, “Why kill everyone. You could have let them go?”
Truculent shrugged, “I’m not leaving you for Eva.”
Battery Boy started to move forward. Before he’d taken half a step, one of the white machines raised a thick tentacle ending in a barrel. Battery Boy stopped, his shoulders were wound up tight. “All this, for a stupid drug?”
Truculent giggled, a little hysterically. It took him some moments to calm down. “HIQ a stupid drug? There’s a civil war raging. Millions of HIQ users are dying. You couldn’t begin to understand.”
“That was the battle we witnessed. Who were you fighting?” Mina asked, not out of any real interest. She needed the distraction from thinking about what Truculent had done to everyone in Block Seven.
“Harder. Remember him? You should.” Truculent said, looking at Tress.
Tress didn’t answer. Mina remembered Harder. They all did. He was the one who had taken Tress for the mysterious Rung One punishment.
