Requiem (3 page)

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Authors: B. Scott Tollison

Tags: #adventure, #action, #consciousness, #memories, #epic, #aliens, #apocalyptic, #dystopian, #morality and ethics, #daughter and mother

BOOK: Requiem
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'After a few
years they returned,' said Sear. 'They systematically harvested
anything that hadn't already been replaced with their waste
products. They threw families and businesses out of their homes and
offices. Those who resisted were killed.'

'How many?'

'Impossible to
say. Zero if you ask NeoCorp. Hundreds of thousands if you ask
anyone else.'

'That's... a
little hard to believe. I mean I know things can be pretty harsh
out here but... you're talking about genocide.'

'Given the
right values, the right incentives, and the right amount of time,
anything is possible.'

Seline's eyes
followed the jagged cracks in the road as she walked. 'So, are
there still businesses operating out here?'

'Not in Vale.
The last to go were the bars and a few small scale recycling
operators.'

'And how do you
know all this?'

'I was trying
to get a better understanding of your people. I had been
researching human architecture around the time NeoCorp targeted the
city. I learned first-hand how your culture operated.'

'And you
decided to stay?'

'There was and
still is a lot to learn. Your people managed to destroy an entire
planet's ecosystem. You're the first sentient species that we know
of to do so.'

Your
people
, she thought to herself. It didn't feel like they
belonged to her, nor her to them. She kicked a small rock along the
road as she walked.

'What do the
Yurrick care about Earth, about humans anyway?' she asked.

'Your species,
NeoCorp at least, has all but openly declared war on the Yurrick,
so we watch closely. We need to be ready.'

'For what?'

'To protect
ourselves and our interests... to keep things in check, if need be.
We aren't violent, but that doesn't mean we can't try to stop
violence before it happens.'

Seline kicked
the rock further down the road.

'You ask a lot
of questions,' he said. 'You almost seem more alien to this place
than I do. Whatever you're looking for must be important to bring
you all the way out here.'

Seline thought
for a moment. 'It's hard to say what's important when there's
nothing to compare it to. I'd almost forgotten this place existed.'
She kicked the rock again. It tumbled into the sand at the edge of
the road.

'So what made
you remember?' he asked.

'An exonet
message. It's a long story. I couldn't explain it even if I wanted
to. Nothing personal.'

'Then perhaps a
shorter, less complicated story?'

'Like
what?'

'Like your
name?'

'It's Seline.
And yours?'

'Sear.'

He didn't add
anything further and Seline didn't ask for more. She felt
embarrassed to be caught asking an alien about her own home and was
reluctant to pry at the memories she had buried away. She would
have to be careful. Like a bare foot trying to avoid the pieces of
glass in the sand. She knew they were there but she wasn't sure
where. Best just to not say anything for now she thought. They both
decided to let silence fill the space between them and the
city.

 

They had been
walking for hours. The city finally felt like it was getting
closer. Already she could see deep horizontal cuts running across
the most stunted structures as if the entire city were laden with
the weight of the skyline. The sun was beginning to set.

 

They now walked
side by side. The light from the torch attached to Seline's arm was
barely enough to illuminate the ground ahead of them.

'There's a
building just up ahead. We can rest there for the night.'

'How do you
know that? I can't see a thing.'

Sear didn't
answer. He led the way as they walked off the road and up a flight
of stairs. Seline followed. Her feet slotted into grooves that had
inexplicably been carved into every step. They reached the first
floor. The strong smell of charcoal and ammonia. Sear pulled a
lighter from his pocket and put it to a small shred of paper which
he had torn from the wall. He threw it into an old metal barrel
which crackled to life, lighting the surrounding darkness in a soft
halloween glow.

'That's one
good thing about new-gen materials,' he said, 'they burn well.' He
found some wooden boards stacked in the corner and threw them into
the barrel. Seline turned her torch off and dug inside her bag for
food. All she could find were the two packs of pre-fab meals that
she had taken from the apartment fridge. She offered one to Sear
who, to her surprise, accepted.

She tossed over
one of the small cubes wrapped in noisy, purple coloured plastic,
adorned with the wide mouthed grin of a cartoon hippo. Sear looked
at the wrapper, looked as if he might say something but stopped
himself. Seline tossed the wrapper into the barrel and swallowed
the first tasteless bite and looked around at the remnants of the
dishevelled room. Half of one of the walls was missing. Scrap
sheets of discoloured wallpaper hung from the walls, exposing
crumbling brick and mortar. Contorted lines of rebar were caught in
the silhouettes cast from the flaming barrel. Embers occasionally
flicked into the air over its curled metal lips with no trace of
ceiling or roof to stop the smoke from escaping into the night
sky.

'Are you sure
this place is safe?'

'Safer than
most. At least for tonight.' His voice still scratched at the back
of her throat.

Another peak of
curiosity surfaced within her. 'Do people still live here? In the
city I mean.'

'Sometimes the
occasional scavenger comes through but apart from that person
following us from the platform, we're probably the only ones here.
At least in this area.'

Seline found
his manner difficult to judge. But she wasn't overly surprised
given her only points of reference for behaviour had been the
handful of humans that she actually interacted with, the two other
Yurrick she had met, and the one time she managed to speak with an
Ordonian or rather the time the Ordonian bellowed at her in those
strange clicking and clacking noises when it thought she had groped
its... what did it call it again? Flarkjip? Jackflap? Or was it
flapjack?

'You can get
some sleep if you want,' said Sear. 'I'll be watching the road if
you need me.'

He perched
himself on the edge of the floor where the wall had once been and
faced into the street. He pushed the last piece of his pre-fab meal
into his mouth and dropped the wrapper into the street. She was
still undecided on whether a 'flapjack' was a real thing or not.
She decided she would look it up on the exonet later. She slouched
down on the floor next to the fire with her back against the wall
and tried to relax.

If he was
going to do something, he would have done it by now.

'How much
longer will it take to get to Sinn?' she asked.

He didn't turn
when he spoke. 'A week if we walk. Half a day if we take the
shortcut.'

'What kind of
shortcuts are there in the middle of a desert?'

'You'll see in
the morning.'

'… Not that I'm
complaining but why are you helping me?' Seline asked.

'Like I said.
I'm going to Sinn anyway.'

'And that's
it?'

Seline listened
to the crackling of wood inside the flaming barrel, waited for a
response.

'It's also hard
to find good, quiet company,' he finally said.

'Oh. Sorry
about all the questions, then,' said Seline.

'It's fine.' He
paused again. 'You mentioned back on the platform that you haven't
been in the Insolvent District for at least ten years, you also
don't have a consumer number, and you're travelling alone. I gather
you've been hiding somewhere – off planet would be my guess.'

'Well... yeah.
I work on Yarfor Station in the Vega System.'

'It's a rough
place. What do you do there?'

'I'm a... a
bartender.'

'A human
bartender? Can't be very common out there.'

'You have to be
pretty desperate to take any of the remaining service industry
jobs... well, either desperate or female. Unfortunately I'm both.
Even with all the automation... there's always a market for the
types of girls that Mr. Klondike is after.'

Seline closed
her eyes. It was years ago. She didn't know how many. She was
sitting in Zackry Klondike's office on Yarfor Station. Small. Damp.
The walls vibrated, convulsed to the music coming from the club
room.

'The implants
stop at the shoulder don't they?' asked Zackry in that quiet,
worming voice. 'You ain't got some robot pussy or something, right?
It just ain't the same, know what I mean? Those robot pussies don't
grab
the same way. Don't
taste
right. That's why I
don't bother with those damn androids. People wanna fuck muffs not
mufflers, understand?'

He paused,
smiled down at her. The plastic in his smile stretched as if the
corners of his mouth were being pulled by fish hooks.

'I only want
the bartender position,' said Seline, jerking her arm back from his
probing fingers.

'You need the
money, Seline,' he said, still smiling, 'I know you do. The
bartending job don't pay too well and, like I said, there's
definitely a market for your types 'round here – as long as you're
human where it counts.'

Seline stared
back, biting her tongue. There wasn't enough money to even pay for
a flight off Yarfor Station let alone pay another week's rent.
Belameir had just lost another job. They'd been living off a diet
of prefab wafers and Vicodin for the past two weeks. She could
taste blood. She unclenched her teeth.

Zackry sat on
the corner of his desk, he reached out, touched her arm. He
caressed it gently, spoke through his smile. 'You got any
attachments for this thing?'

Seline opened
her eyes. The fire spat embers from the top of the barrel.

'You work for
Zackry Klondike?' Sear asked.

She nodded.
'It's pretty much how it sounds.'

'Zackry's clubs
are pretty much the only businesses left operating in this district
although I never really understood the human obsession with strip
clubs and alcohol. Humans can't even hold their liquor very
well.'

'They're a last
resort.'

'A last resort
for what?' he asked.

'For those who
don't have enough money and for those who have too much.'

He didn't
reply.

'You said you
were trying to understand humans,' said Seline. 'So what does that
make you? An anthropologist?'

'I guess you
could say that.'

'I still don't
really understand why you would want to stay here.'

'Perhaps for
the same reason you had avoided it. There are a lot of similarities
in our species yet for all that we share we've managed to arrive at
completely different outcomes. I find that fascinating while you,
for your own reasons, think otherwise.'

There was
something in the way Sear spoke. The seriousness in his tone, the
lack of hesitation even in his moments of silence; it almost seemed
rehearsed. There was something recognisable in that. Something
painfully familiar. Recognising that the conversation might revert
back to her, Seline changed the topic.

'I uh...
couldn't find any maps of Vale or Sinn on the exonet. It's as if
these places have been written out of history.'

'NeoCorp
stopped publishing any detailed satellite information on these
areas a long time ago. Poverty and genocide make a fine business
model but aren't good for tourism... or a conscience for that
matter.'

'So I've
heard,' said Seline.

'You won't be
able to find any maps of these places unless you're willing to buy
something from the locals. For most of them, access to the exonet
is a luxury so you'll have to pay quite a bit. But it depends on
where you want to go.' He glanced back at Seline. 'So where was it
you were heading exactly? Most of the street names have probably
changed since you left. It's all pretty messy now.'

'I don't really
have any memory of what the street names were anyway. All I know is
I'm looking for house seventeen. It's on twenty-third Street.'

'That's not too
far from the city centre. We'll be going past it on our way in. I
can drop you there if you like.'

Seline knew
that, even if Sinn was still mostly intact, she would not have a
clue which way she should be going. She would need help sooner or
later.

'Alright,' she
said, then added. 'Only if it's not too much trouble.'

He nodded and
remained facing the street.

Seline
stretched her legs and rolled her head left then right until she
heard several deep, satisfying cracks from her neck. She was tired
from the hours of walking and waiting, from the questions and the
periodic bouts of talking. Accompanied only by the soft light from
the flaming barrel and the quiet company of a stranger and with the
heaviness of sleep suddenly upon her she closed her eyes and let
her mind drift.

The Rhythm of War Drums

 

Her eyes opened
beneath a stream of pale light forcing its way through the cracks
in the wall. The wind whispered and sighed in the distance. She
swallowed. Her mouth and throat were dry. She opened her bag,
pulled out her drink bottle and held it in front of her eyes, still
blurred and glistening in their morning haze. She drank. The cold
of the water kissed her lips and sunk down into her stomach. It
slushed around inside her, reminding her that she needed to eat
something. It certainly wasn't coffee but it would have to do. She
heard rustling and the clang of metal from somewhere out in the
street.

She pushed
herself up and looked down the stairs at the deep etchings that her
feet had walked through during the night. She slotted her feet into
the grooves as she descended and walked out into the street.
Derelict housing lined each side of the road, the buildings'
shadows just managed to stretch across it thanks to the angle of
the barely risen sun. The day was beginning to heat up already.
Sear was busy pulling boards and scraps of loose material away from
a large door on the bottom story of the previous night's
accommodation. Seline watched for a brief moment, wondering if he
had even slept.

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