Authors: Eloise Dyson
52
Phillip
I enter the control room. I’ve spent the past ten years working here, helping to send the Chipped out and tracking them throughout the country. The real work is inside the Compound, not here, just inside the wall. My father only gave me the job here because they’re a failed experiment to him. It’s a way of keeping me out of the way, like giving me a toy to play with while he works on the bigger issues. I see it as power. The Chipped are human and I control them. The room is lined with computer screens; right now they’re showing several maps with the red dots indicating the positions of the Chipped. Sometimes, I play back the footage of the people who wanted safety. I watch as they beg to be inside the Compound and the safety the wall provides. They were told that they would live peacefully in a city that will be safe from the destruction; a place located safely where the earthquake won’t strike. Everyone who already lived in the city were instantly granted access to stay there, while others had to be chosen. People who were between the ages of twenty and twenty five were the safe ones. The people who already lived in the city were chipped, even the kids. Every Unity agent was sent to do it strategically. A city-wide warning went out, instructing everyone to return to their homes and remain there for the next twenty four hours. The ones who refused, who rebelled, were killed by a team of fifty agents. The other hundreds of agents went to every home, spreading across the city like a virus, injecting the chips into their heads, allowing us... now allowing me complete control over them at any time I desire. They remain in the other half of the city, leading what they believe is a normal life, while the two commands programmed into their mind continually: Don’t leave the city; don’t question the wall. They were human, now they’re tools. Originally, the chips were designed to create an army, with my father at the head. A new world, one where he’s leader, where he’s respected. But the original chips failed. The first Chipped could only take basic commands. He improved them, but in doing so, he turned them into monsters.
‘Send fifty Chipped,’ I command the group, giving them the coordinates. Right to the Festival.
‘Yes sir!’ a man says, the coordinates appearing on the screen, and the maps adjusting to show the valley in which the Festival is being held.
I watch the red dots on another screen change course from the forests surrounding it and all head towards the valley. They slow down eventually, most of them flickering, before turning off. It’s like a game of Battleship. An old game I used to play with my roommate. Board games were the only games we could play.
‘All dead, sir,’ the man says.
I turn on him, adopting the authority of my father, looking down on the man the way my father looks down on me; demanding respect, and taking it when it isn’t freely given.
‘Send all the Chipped back!’ I command, turning to the rest of the people in the control room, all of them watching me now. ‘Order them back to us. Every Chipped person still alive. We need every one from every city! This war is about to begin!’
Everyone rushes to a computer screen, rapidly talking to the Unity members placed in other cities, and in this moment, I have more power than I ever imagined.
Part Five:
We’ll All Be Free
53
Arys
I stand outside the Compound. The wall just behind me and the freezing night-time air sending chills through my body. I hold only a sword as I face countless people, all sneering at me from their position behind the trees. It takes me constantly reminding myself that I am one of them, and shouldn’t be afraid. But as I step forward, my sword in my hand, they begin to advance on me slowly. I am greatly outnumbered, armed only with a sword. The sword’s quality is greater than their more primitive weapons, but my lack of training weakens me and it takes a lot not to run back inside the Compound. One large, muscular man in particular strides forward, his sword outstretched. Without hesitation, I charge towards him, not knowing if it will hurt or not. I spin around, slicing into him and his body falls to the ground. This stops the other approaching people. I know I’m being watched, and my allegiance to my people can’t be shown without anyone realising that I’m not Kayra. Reminding myself that these aren’t real people, I sprint forwards into the group, swinging my sword everywhere, cutting into as many as I can, hoping that I do well enough to pass the test, and that it ends soon. As much as I know that I’m not killing real tribe people, it’s the most realistic training exercise that I’ve had, and I try not to close my eyes as people who are like those I have lived amongst all my life are slaughtered at my hand. As I turn, one man grabs my wrist with great strength and throws the sword out of my hands. I try and grasp a fallen sword on the ground, but my hand passes through it. I attempt to grab a knife, but it’s as if it isn’t even there. The man picks me up and stabs me in my heart. Closing my eyes and screaming, I feel a dull pain where the knife should be, before a bright light fills my vision and the simulation ends.
‘You’re going to have to try harder if you’re convincing them you’ve been here for fifteen years,’ Dan says as helpfully as he can.
‘I can’t!’ I say, exhausted.
I’ve been in the simulation game six times tonight and as many times as I try, I can’t kill all of the people in it.
‘Arys, you’ve had the enhancements needed to do it! You will naturally pick up the method easily,’ he says, encouragingly. ‘Just one more try?’
I agree to do it once more. He returns to the table at the far end of the room and picks up several more sensory patches. Handing them to me, I discard the old ones and apply the newer patches to various places on my body, feeling the brief vibration telling me that they’re all active.
‘Ready?’ Dan asks.
I nod. The room around me changes from the bright room, filled with lights, to the exact replica of a forest. This time, it’s sometime in the morning, and my eyes don’t need to adjust too much. I again see various people approaching me. For the first time, I imagine this from my own usual perspective, and imagine myself as a Hunter. I adopt the way their expressions are blank, and how they fearlessly, without thinking, just attack. Rushing forward with my sword raised, the tribe people aren’t ready for my sudden attack. Several flee instantly, while the ones standing their ground rush towards me. My sword meets another in the air, and I kick the man to the ground. A woman attacks me from the side with a knife, causing the sensory patch to simulate a dull ache in my arm. Ignoring the irritating sensation, I throw the woman to the ground and bring my sword down to cut into the man in front of me. Spinning around, I block various attacks and kill more than I have ever killed in one simulation before, until only two are left standing. One seems to consider running, but stands his ground. I approach him and emotionlessly stab him in his heart. His eyes plead with mine and I force myself to watch as his virtual life leaves him. The final man stands ahead and I know that if I don’t kill him soon, Dan will knock marks off. I rush forward and slice into him. The second the sword makes contact with his flesh, the simulation ends abruptly and Dan stands alone, applauding me.
Jumping down from the platform he is sat on, he shows me how my results compare to his own. I took almost a minute longer than him, but killed more than he did overall.
‘You’ve definitely progressed, you know,’ he says joyfully.
‘I’m not sure that’s a good thing anymore,’ I say cheerlessly. ‘I hate the look in their eye as I kill them. I don’t think I’ll sleep well tonight.’
‘They’re programmed!’ he says, laughing slightly. ‘They’re not real people.’
‘They act like it,’ I snap. ‘Some even flee like a normal person would.’
‘You have killed no one tonight,’ he says. ‘None of those people you saw in here exist and they never have. They are programmed to act like a normal person would in the situation you provide.’
‘You don’t understand,’ I say, walking past him and leaving through the door.
He catches up to me as I’m turning the corner into the lobby to sign out.
‘Arys, wait!’ he shouts.
I turn to him and he is shaking a little bit.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I understand why you’re upset and I didn’t think of it from your position. I’m sorry for being insensitive and putting you through this tonight.’
I walk up to him and hug him briefly, a little annoyed at myself for snapping at him.
‘Don’t be,’ I reply. ‘I know you’re doing this to help me, and I’m sorry for snapping.’
‘You don’t have to carry on if you don’t want to.’
I take a deep breath, considering what he’s saying. ‘No, I think I have to if I’m to fit in here.’
‘If it’s what you want,’ he says, smiling.
We both sign out on the computer, logging the time at 22:13. We have just over forty five minutes before lights out. Slightly rushing back, Dan quickly says goodbye to me as we enter the halls of residence. Still a little lost, he directs me to my own room. I enter the empty room, everyone still out in the Compound, enjoying the one night of the week they have off. Lying on my bed, the faces of all the virtual people I killed tonight flash in front of my eyes. Before long, the faces of the Hunters that I killed come back to me, mixing with the faces of the virtual people I killed tonight. Tears fill my eyes as I imagine their lives before this and my number burns in my head, as if taunting me. Fourteen people I’ve killed. Fourteen innocent people.
54
Kayra
‘Hunters!’ someone screams in the distance.
My dad stands up, his staff held menacingly in his hand.
‘This can’t be right!’ he says, stepping to get a clear view of the horizon. ‘It’s far too early, the plan isn’t complete!’
A man runs up to us, looking around twenty years old. He’s armed with several knives along his belt and a handgun. The gun doesn’t look like it’s from the Compound; it looks quite old and well used.
‘Seven dead,’ he explains, almost emotionlessly.
My dad nods his head. ‘And the Chipped?’
‘Thirty six,’ he replies.
‘Thank you for notifying me.’
The man runs off, back the way he came, disappearing behind tents. My dad sits back down on the chair outside his tent.
‘Kayra, we don’t have long anymore. A war against the Hunters is starting.’
‘Why did you call them “The Chipped”?’ I ask him.
I’m worried; I don’t know why he called them that, but by the sound of it, it can’t be good.
‘It doesn’t matter, it’s too long to explain and you can’t know yet, the information is dangerous.’
I decide to leave it. He wouldn’t keep something from me if I really needed to know.
Henry stands now on top of what was once the fire. It was hurriedly put out, and everyone was gathered. He created a makeshift platform, raising him up, and he stands now, addressing the thousands. The light hearted mood of the Festival has vanished, leaving confusion and panic in its place. He speaks loudly, his voice naturally carrying across the thousands of people, so loudly that everyone seems to hear him.
‘A war is starting!’ he cries out to the group, his voice stable and authoritative. ‘Hunters have killed our tribes. They’ve burnt our homes, our families for fifteen years! They have become stronger, more tactical. We have let them take over our land! We ran, yet they walked all over us, making us live in fear for fifteen years! And now they want to finish us! But we won’t stand for it anymore. It’s time to stop running! Stop surrendering! We will stop these Hunters once and for all!’
Cheers come from all around us. Whether they know how serious this is, or whether they think it’s just another festivity, they all cheer.
‘As of today, we’re standing together! No more small tribes. We’re one Tribe! We’re fighting back!’
The thunderous cheers begin again. Henry is now the leader of a rebellion.
All of the tribes prepare for war. They work as one to exchange weapons and armour. The tribe whose skill was combat are training the people who have had less training. I don’t know how they will stand against the Hunters, who attack like no others I’ve seen before. Children are practicing with wooden swords, fighting each other. The children are not meeting the Hunters head on; instead they will remain in the valley, protected by the less able fighters. Mothers are making armour by melting old cans and moulding them into new shapes. There is a tribe who consist of skilled blacksmiths, and they’re making long swords from the metal of knives and other scrap metal. We don’t look impressive, but our hearts are ready to face the oncoming battle. I recognise people from Arys’s tribe all around me, some of them with the pendants swinging from their necks. Some tribes have decided not to take part in the war; they have already lost too many. They’re splitting into new tribes, no one thinks any less of them as they pack up their personal belongings and take their limited supply of food. A lot of people from Arys’s tribe are leaving into other tribes too.
‘Kayra, be brave in this war,’ a woman tells me, her pack over her shoulder, ready to leave. I recognise her as Emily, the woman who often fed Alaoden.
‘Remember you’re not only fighting for your freedom, but for everyone’s,’ she continues, smiling at me sadly. ‘I can’t stay and witness more murder. I’ve lost everyone I love, and I can’t go on like this, but my thoughts and prayers are with you all.’
I hug her, thank her, and then leave to find Zeke, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I haven’t seen Zeke, Iris, Nina or Zach since the dancing two days ago. I spot Kai and run to him.
‘Have you seen Zeke?’ I ask him, a little desperately.
His eyes widen in sudden realisation.
‘He left with Iris, Nina and Zach. Zach told me how it was at the Compound, and how everyone was caged in. They had no freedom. He said it’s the same here with tribes caging people in. Zeke agreed with him, and they all left yesterday.’
We both know that it’s useless trying to follow them. They’re too far away now. And preparations for war have to go ahead. This is the war Papa spoke of in his songs. The war between the Hunters and the tribes. The tribe must win.