daynight (30 page)

Following the burials, our leaders chose to have all of us return to the caves. They didn’t want to risk another altercation with SCI security details. Our location was known so we weren’t safe. Our group carried as many essential non-perishables as possible, but the bulk of supplies were left behind. The plan had been for a small group to return to get more boxes, but a large team of SCI security members had promptly reclaimed the ship. So, our men returned empty handed.

I never tasted sugar or chocolate again until I left Thera for Earth. Just the memory of my sweet encounter causes me to reject the pasty slop Doc gave me. I spit it back into my bowl and await my father. The sooner I get my message to him and updated orders, the sooner I get back to Garden City, real food, and to Kira.

After waking up from a quick nap,
I seek out my father. I find him in the adjacent cave entrenched in a war of words with Doc Daryn. No one seems to notice me so I play fly on the wall while they finish out their ‘discussion.’ The cave’s enormous—long and wide, with jagged ceilings low enough that I can almost reach out and touch the bats who are hanging. There’s a few hundred men gathered in the cave. More than half are positioned behind Doc, the others behind my dad. The contrast between the two sides strikes me. My dad’s men are lined up military style in an attention stance, waiting for orders. Doc’s men are lounging about in an unorganized fashion, watching the exchange, many nibbling on some hard biscuits.

“Just go home, Doc and take your men with you. We’ve got this,” my father says.

“You and your militant maniacs are on a suicide mission,” Doc says. “You are completely underestimating the capabilities of the SCI.”

“The security in Garden City is weak. I worked in Headquarters for years, remember? There were never more than a dozen security guards in the building and they don’t even carry weapons. And throughout the city? There were none,” my father says. He’s pacing and waving his arms to emphasize his points. “The Ten and Grand Council? Completely unprotected. We have weapons and military training. They have no chance.”

“That’s what they
want
you to think. That they’re weak. It’s a trap. They want nothing more than for you to march in there expecting to take them out so that they can annihilate you,” Doc says.

“And how will they do that, pray tell? They’ll be lucky to get a ship from Military City to Garden City in a week with support. By then the leadership in Garden City will be replaced and we’ll use their own Eco barrier to keep the security forces out. We’ll easily get the community’s support once the Second Chancers find out how far they’ve been misled,” my father says.

“Hank, have these imbeciles you surrounded yourself with polluted your brain so much that you actually believe that? You really think you can march in there and take over?” Doc says. He’s whirling his finger around his ear, indicating that he thinks my father has gone insane.

“And what glorious, brilliant plan does your band of pacifist losers have? Keep scrounging for morsels of food and water until the Exilers become extinct?”

“We
Survivalists
are strong in number and growing every day. Ten thousand plus, including our two sister communities. With the recent additions of several prominent Daynighter defectors we have the political clout to negotiate with the SCI. We’re structuring our own government and will ask the SCI to recognize us as a valid entity on Thera. We control several entry and exit portals and could easily expose the SCI on Earth, so the SCI government leaders will have to listen. If you go in there and attack, you’ll ruin any chance of negotiation.” My father laughs wildly at the Doc’s plans and signals his men to join the mocking.

I had no idea that the factions within the Exilers had become so fractured. What was once mere annoyance now borders on full-blown civil war. My father never told me that there was more than one way to handle the situation and provide relief for the Exilers. I look around the room. Of the men I recognize—the ones I trust are with Doc Daryn. The ones I don’t are with my father. My mind reverts to what Doc said about the skirmish that killed his Cleave. Were the Militants responsible?

My father, once done with his laughing fit, addresses Doc again. “You think you can
negotiate
with the SCI? You’re way more deluded than I am. If you threaten to interfere with their plans to create a master race of Originals and inflict their political theology on Earth, they will unleash all of Military City on you.”

“We wholeheartedly disagree,” Doc responds. “But, the conversation’s moot anyway since you’ll never get into the city. Your idiotic plan to send your men across the Eco barrier on stilts will never work. You’ll just alert the SCI to your presence and/or blow yourselves to bits.”

“Actually, thanks to my son we now have a way into the city that doesn’t involve stilts at all. We plan to build a ladder and enter in on the canyon ledge Blake found.” Great. I seem to give my dad all his bad ideas. Unintentionally, of course.
 

“With all your guns and equipment? That ledge is fourteen inches wide at most from what Blake told me,” Doc says, holding up his hands to show how small fourteen inches is.

“It will take time, but it can be done,” my father says.

I’ve heard enough. I step out to address the group.

“That’s crazy,” I say to my father. “It took me hours to inch up that ledge.”

“You did it in a rainstorm,” my father says. “Stay out of this, Blake.” He motions for me to exit.

“No. You put me front and center of your plan without informing me that there was any alternative. I have to agree with Doc. The SCI has greater capabilities than they’re letting on. They killed a whole party full of kids to get my partner, Kira, to Thera. That kind of extreme action doesn’t come from a government with lax security,” I say. “Their technology seems sophisticated.”

“Advanced technology won’t help them when they don’t have weapons or forces,” my father says. “Back off. You gave us what we needed and I won’t have a seventeen year-old kid who doesn’t know squat telling us what to do.”

“Well, if you don’t need me, then I think I’ll be going at first dark,” I say.

“There’s still work you need to do to prepare for our coup. I expect you to do what you are asked,” my father says in a threatening tone.

My father wants me to find a way to permanently or temporarily disable the barrier, in case they need to retreat quickly. If Garden City authorities are pursuing them the Militants won’t want to take the time to exit by the canyon shelf. He directs me to put the screws to Ted and get his help in accessing headquarters.
 

I stand by as the Militant leaders finalize their plans for entering the city, while individual units practice maneuvers. The Survivalists are forced out of the cave at first dark by gunpoint, although Doc Daryn is allowed to stay. Despite the harsh feelings between the two groups, Doc is still one of my father’s oldest friends and the best doctor in the region.

Doc addresses me when my father is twenty hours into his strategy meeting and well occupied with his ‘generals.’ Whereas I’m ready to crash, he looks well rested. His wet hair smells like saltwater and looks like a limp jellyfish. “You don’t need to do your father’s bidding any more, you know.” He pauses to reflect before continuing, “His approach is all wrong and I would hate to see you caught in the crossfire of his harebrained plan.”

“Right now I just want to get back in the city,” I say. “If I don’t I’ll have a lot worse problems than dealing with my dad and his crazies. The SCI will kill me if I can’t explain my whereabouts.”

The doctor turns to me with a hopeful gaze. His grip on my arm is so tight that it’s cutting off my circulation. “You could be invaluable to our efforts in negotiating with the SCI,” he says. “If we could guarantee the Exilers a better future without using force… if they could see that we aren’t a threat, but as a neighboring country….” His voice trails off. He looks away and drops his hand as he sees me shake my head.

“I get it,” I say. “But it wouldn’t even help. Recruits are pretty low down on the hierarchy. How’d it get like this? The Militants and Survivalists? Is it as bad as it looks?”

“Worse,” Doc says. “The split happened a couple years after you left. Your dad and his crew moved here and we stayed back in the canyon. I assure you, though, that the majority of the Exilers want a peaceful existence, without violence. I wasn’t lying when I said I had more than ten thousand with me. Your dad has about three hundred. Unfortunately, they’ve stolen all but a small stash of our weaponry, so we’ve been powerless, despite our numbers.”

“I’m all for peace, but what about the Second Chancers? How does your plan help them? If you simply coexist with the SCI, you help the Exilers at the expense of everyone else the SCI is oppressing,” I say. He purses his lips. No one likes to be asked the hard questions.

“One step at a time, Blake,” he says. “If we’re recognized as an alternate entity on Thera we can grow in power and prosper. Then we’ll have the strength to consider other options.” That’s all fine and good, but in the meantime a lot of people, including Kira, will suffer. From the expression on his face I can tell he knows his plan is deficient, but that he doesn’t see a viable solution to help the Second Chancers right now.

We talk for a long while about the split of the Exilers and how it came to pass. And more about Doc’s ideas to keep the peace. Although I think both sides are a little extreme in their stances, Doc seems to have thought things through better than my father. He refuses to confirm that the Militants were responsible for the death of his Cleave, though he didn’t have to. The expression on his face when I asked spoke louder than any words he could offer.

I grow weary of the planning exercise and retreat to the cave next door and collapse on an old tarp in a dark corner that reeks like dead fish. It’s critical that I get a few hours sleep before I attempt to return to Garden City, and to Kira. I have some begging of forgiveness to do.

To prepare for reentry,
Doc scrapes the silvery burn ointment from my skin. As it pops blistery welts across my back, I scream in agony. It’s not that he or I want to shun good medical treatment, but that I can’t explain it. And if I can’t explain it, it has to go. Hopefully I’ll be found before sunrise. I’m not sure I can handle the pain of one hundred fifty degree sun on my burns.

On night two of my visit to my father, I get ready to depart. If I wait any longer, it’s less likely the SCI rescuers will still be searching for me. My plan counts on being found. I want the SCI to assume I’d been too disabled to return home myself. That way I won’t have to explain my disappearance.

I put back on my party attire—what’s left of it—wishing the flash flood had happened during school hours. My regular school uniform would provide much better sun protection. Oh well, got to work with what I have. I drink a full flask of water and gnaw on a hard biscuit before bidding farewell to the Exiled Militants, and to Doc. My father tells me to ignore anything Doc Daryn said. He also emphasizes that his life and the lives of his people are in my hands and that failure isn’t an option. Really, Dad? I’m glad you mentioned it, because I really haven’t felt the pressure until now. I hope Kira’s wrong and I don’t have a whole host of children being grown in some Garden City lab. The only thing parents can possibly offer their child is disappointment, unrealistic expectations, and heartache.

The sand feels hot on my feet, having ditched my uncomfortable party shoes back in the river. I jog down the beach towards the Eco barrier. Depending on whether I can see a partial pattern, I’ll decide whether to swim around or try to cross it. The sun’s lingering above the horizon and sizable waves are crashing onto the beach fifteen feet away. Too bad I don’t have my surfboard here. Given it is high tide most the barrier is covered by the waves. I wonder if I could body surf it? If I swam out and across, I could potentially clear the barrier if I rode a big one in.

Despite piles of debris, I can make out sections of the pattern. The storm must have eroded the soil covering it. Either I’ve remembered incorrectly, or the layout has shifted. It’s almost as if each detonator has moved ninety degrees on an axis from where I’d expect them to be, creating a completely new pattern. I stare, trying to figure out an explanation, when the detonators shift again. Some shift ninety degrees clockwise, others counterclockwise. I openly curse my father’s naive assumption that I could ever cross the barrier on stilts. All that insane training in the desert was for nothing.
 

Even though it delays any futile attempt to cross, I wait out the next adjustment. I don’t have my watch, but my best guess would be five minutes between rotations. My father definitely underestimated the intelligence of the SCI. Had I not found that canyon ledge, they’d have all died trying to cross the barrier. Best case, it would take me twenty minutes to cross with stationary detonators. It’s impossible with randomly rotating ones, as the movements can’t be anticipated. The barrier is foolproof.

That leaves my original idea of body surfing over the barrier. The barrier remains in tact, even under water, per the folks I spoke to at the scale model of the city. In low tide the barrier is completely exposed on the beach. In high tide, it’s at least partially covered with water. My hope is that if I catch a big enough wave that I can clear the barrier when I come crashing in. I’d swim farther to the South where the ships come in, as there is no barrier there, but in place of the barrier is a solid, sliding wall that only opens to let ships in and out of the docks.

 
Because I waste the remnants of sunlight studying the shifting patterns, I have to enter the water at twilight, which will make it more difficult to see what’s coming.

No time like the present to die. I have zero desire to return to my father’s cave to tell him I gave up without trying. The exit portal to Earth is a three-night journey. Even if I could remember the exact route, I have no supplies. And I couldn’t leave Kira on Thera without attempting to rescue her. So, my decision’s made before I can second-guess it.