Wasteland: Rebirth, page 2
A man standing around six foot nine answers. “Can I help you?”
“Is Lark available?”
“Who is it, Hunter?” Lark says from somewhere far off.
“It’s Captain Braxton,” Hunter responds.
“Let him in.”
Hunter steps aside, allowing me to pass. The top floor is one great expanse, housing a living room, kitchen, dinette set, security equipment, computers, and monitors. A staircase leading to the level below sits in the center. Lark is sitting under one of the monitors, switching feeds from one screen to another. The displays show various areas of Sirain, most covering Tyre itself. I take a seat next to her.
“I need to get back into Sirain,” I say, watching as she spins dials on the panel in front of her, quickly changing camera angles.
“Sorry, Captain, we’ve been ordered not to enter Sirain anymore,” she responds, not breaking eye contact with her screens.
“You don’t understand, I need to get in there.”
She stops, turns to me, and sighs. “Captain, we’ve been permanently grounded by our leader. He’s not allowing anyone to leave Eretria.”
“Don’t you report to Artemis?” I ask, slightly confused.
She snickers. “Hell, no. We report to Waller, the leader of Eretria. We just stay here to keep an eye on Artemis. Waller doesn’t trust him, and neither do I.”
“That makes three of us,” I mumble.
I lean back in the seat while Lark goes back to her screens. For the next hour I keep her company as she swipes from feed to feed. She makes the monitors dance for her, smoothly changing scenes. One catches my eye.
“Where’s this one coming from?” I ask, pointing to the display showing a large, squat circular building.
“Northern section of the Tyrean territory, but several hundred miles south from where we picked you up, why?”
“Is there a way to tell what kind of building it is? What’s housed there?”
“Give me a second and I can tell you.” She taps on her panel, then scrolls through some images. “Looks to be a medical complex. Four stories, three of them underground.”
“That’s it. That’s where Vladim is keeping the new Antaeans.”
“So?”
“If we can destroy that facility, then Vladim can’t have the war he wants. We can stop him from using the Antaeans.”
“We have our orders, Captain.”
“Please don’t call me that. It reminds me of a past that I’d like to forget.”
“Ok…Braxton,” she stammers, “but Waller will never permit it. He’s relegated the Sentries to monitor all transmissions being sent from Sirain, and if all Vladim continues to do is posturing, Waller will never invade. He knows that Vladim is simply using scare tactics against his own people.”
“You underestimate him like I did.”
I leave, head back to the main house, and lock myself in my room. I’m angry that no one is willing to help me. Mad that they all just want to give up. Vladim will invade, and he’ll use his Antaeans to destroy this country. Waller probably thinks Vladim isn’t much of a danger. Did they see the footage when Acheron was destroyed? If not, then maybe he should see it so he knows exactly what’s coming his way.
There’s an intercom by my door. I scroll through the listings and locate Lark.
“Yes Braxton,” she replies, sounding annoyed.
“Can you send me the last month of transmissions from Tyre? I want to look at them.”
“I’ll send them to your room. It’ll take me about an hour to get them all together.”
I go into the bathroom to shower, brush my teeth, and change my clothes. When I step out, there’s a knock at my door. Lark is standing on the other side.
“There wasn’t a lot of video for the past month,” she says, walking by me without being asked to enter. “I went back over the last year and queued up the broadcasts for you.” She steps over to the large monitor, taps the lower left corner, turning it on. “They’re in order from oldest to newest.”
The videos line up in an accordion style. She swipes them across the screen, looking for the beginning, taps on the video, and it begins playing. It’s the broadcast that Vladim sent over all of Sirain, of the demonstration he had Trea perform at the stadium in Tyre. I didn’t know he had also sent it over to Eretria. Trea looks fierce, intensity hard on her face as she faces off with a battle droid. The footage stops just after she escapes down into the holding cell.
“I’m not sure what you’re looking for,” Lark says, making herself comfortable on one of the lounge chairs. “Maybe if you clue me in, I can help.”
“Actually, I was planning on watching these alone.”
She looks quizzically at me. “Why?”
“It’s been a long couple of days, Lark, and I just want to be left alone.”
She gets up, walks to the door, but stops before opening it. “You know, Braxton, I can help you, if you let me.” She smiles, then leaves.
Wait, what? Is she coming on to me? This is ridiculous; she knows my feelings for Trea, why would she say such a thing? I’m I reading too much into this? I can’t think about this now.
I brush off her comment and focus my attention on the screen. I bring up the collection of videos and slide them slowly across, looking to see how many there are and how long each one is. Many of them only show the army training. Not sure what recording that was supposed to accomplish. I wonder if Artemis records every signal in Sirain, and not just the broadcasts. Now I regret asking Lark to leave as she probably knows the answer. I make a mental note to ask her later and keep looking.
I tap on a video labeled “Borough Transmission Three”. The footage is an aerial view of a small hamlet, houses with thatched roofs grouped together. Men and women run into their homes as Quantum mortars fall. Vladim’s voice is playing over the rampage.
“Those who live outside Sirain pose a threat to its stability. Anyone caught beyond our borders will be considered a traitor and subject to the ultimate punishment.”
Another mortar falls, leveling everything, killing everyone.
Was this the village behind Tartarus? Grainne would know, but I don’t want to question her about it. She’s been through enough.
I minimize the file and scroll to the next one. This one shows the destruction of Acheron, but with added scenes from the bombing of the Factory Borough. The video is split into two segments. I play the first, which shows the annihilation of Acheron — with a twist. Only a few buildings in Acheron are shown as demolished. The city itself is still sitting atop the water.
I don’t get it? Why destroy the city and then not show it? Everyone in Sirain saw the city go under, I wonder why he didn’t send that footage over to Eretria? Why doctor it?
I ignore Vladim’s speech being played over the dramatic video and skip ahead to the one pertaining to the Factory Borough. This footage is a compilation of when we entered the area to liberate it from the army, and when the aerial units returned to bomb it. Prisoners we freed from the Reformatory are fighting the Tyrean soldiers. In mere moments, the video changes to show several aerial units moving in, dropping bombs. These aren’t Quantum mortars, but something different. They look almost old world. I pause the recording and tighten the image on a bomb as it falls. The casing is smooth, elongated, with a cone for a nose. On the side of the projectile is an image of a bird with outstretched wings, a branch in its talons, surrounded by sunlight. I’ve seen that image before, but where?
I try to remember my days back in training when we were taught about weapons history. The instructor made it a point to emphasize how much better our artillery was now, compared to what he called “old world” weapons where projectiles were used to inflict injury.
Did they have bombs too? What would’ve been in them?
I resume the footage as Vladim begins to speak. “Even as we try to defend our sister city, forces from the north have made their way into the Factory Borough of Acheron, determined to destroy it with their powerful weapons. We must continue to fight against this enemy and prevail, for the survival of our country.”
I stop the video, rewind to the beginning, and watch all the way through. I can’t get a clear view of the aerial units over the Factory Borough, but I can see the bombs being dropped are not from Sirain. I play the footage again, concentrating on the airships, trying to get a glimpse of what they look like, but it’s no use, they’re too well concealed.
I know Vladim or Caderyn orchestrated the bombing of the Borough, but where did they get the weapons? Why use the old world bombs instead of Quantum mortars?
A headache is forming behind my eyes. There isn’t anything to alleviate it in the bathroom, so I go out to the lounge where there’s a bar and pour myself a drink. I carry it into the media room, where Lark is sitting, flipping the displays on the monitors every few seconds from a small remote in her hand, as if searching for something.
“Did you find what you needed?” she asks without breaking away from the screens.
“No, not exactly.” I sit in the same spot I had occupied earlier. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for signs of Trea.”
“How?”
“We’ve hacked into the transmissions from the satellites that Tyre uses to spy on everyone. Waller ordered us to do it after Artemis crossed the border the first time. That was over six years ago. I thought I’d look through the footage to see if I could see Trea anywhere in Sirain.”
“Are these live?” I ask, sitting closer to the edge of my seat.
“There’s a ten second delay between the feed the Sentries are capturing to it arriving here.”
“What are the Sentries?”
“They’re the Eretrian army. There are three outposts stationed around the country. The largest being at the border with Sirain. They intercept all communications sent from Sirain into Eretria. Only Waller has seen anything that Vladim has pirated over our signals. Nothing has made it to any of the cities or our citizens.”
I giggle slightly at the thought that Vladim thinks he’s terrorizing these innocent people, and none of them have seen any of it.
“Do you record everything from Sirain, whether Vladim broadcasts it or not?”
“Artemis does, but we don’t.”
I sip my drink, lean back, and continue to stare at the monitors, willing Trea to appear.
Chapter 2
Andred/Trea
The broadcast was over a week ago. Premier Vladim gave a rousing speech about how Sirain needs all of its citizens to join in our fight with Eretria. My favorite part was when he said, “I promise you all that we will do our best to be victorious. But if we fail, it is because I fail. To guarantee this doesn’t happen, I will put my own life on the line. With the Antaeans by my side, I will lead the army into battle to ensure our success.” What other leader would place themselves in harm’s way to defend their country? Going to the front lines with us…how powerful a statement that will be to the leaders of Eretria. I doubt any other ruler would do the same.
What courage Premier Vladim has.
Though I feel calm and relaxed here at the estate, nightmares plague my mind, even with the calming voice under my pillow lulling me to sleep. Beginning with the first night away from the Dormitories, I’ve been haunted by mysterious faces. An elderly man visits my dreams most often. He’s sorrowful, checks stained with dried tears. He doesn’t speak, but I know he’s disappointed with me. I can’t place where I’ve seen him before, but it’s as if I may have known him in another life.
Another dream contains a young man, about my age, with brown hair dusting the top of his shoulders. He berates me incessantly for turning into a monster. His screams still echo in my ears after I wake. His hateful words hurt the most. More even than that of a young woman I meet in my dreams, someone I feel is my mother. The man and the woman both call me “Meg” in my dreams, but I don’t know why. That name has a familiarity to it, but it also brings stomach-churning grief for a time I would like to believe once existed. Not all my dreams are horrible. There is another person who visits me every once in a while. He’s tall with blonde hair. He looks sad, but happy at the same time. Almost as if he’s finally at peace. He tells me that I’ve lost my way, but he’ll help me find it again. Whenever I’m about to take his hand, I wake up and I’m unable to recapture the moment.
I wake in the mornings consumed with uneasiness. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind I hear a small voice telling me everything I’m doing is wrong. My life doesn’t exactly feel like my own, but I can’t tell if it’s my true feelings, or just my nightmares affecting me psychologically.
I have an entire bedroom suite to myself, including a walk-in closet and terrace. Commander Caderyn has the same setup across the hall from me. We’re the only ones that occupy the second floor of the house. Dragging myself out of bed, I make my way into my personal bathroom to splash cold water on my face. I need to shake myself free of these feelings. Dark blonde roots are showing under the black color of my hair. I’m not sure why I would’ve dyed my hair this horrible color. I wonder if any of the housekeepers can get this out. The length is tolerable, but I’ll grow it out.
I change into running clothes before going down to breakfast.
We’re fed very well every day by the Premier’s personal chef. This morning it’s French toast and fresh fruit. I take my plate and eat in the dining room. Mair and Thane, young Antaeans I met at the Dormitories, are the only ones sitting at the table, but there are three Regulators standing around the room. There is at least one with each of us at all times. It’s a little unsettling to be constantly watched, but I’m sure it’s for our own safety, after what Premier Vladim said about me being abducted.
“You all right, Andred?” Mair asks, placing her glass down.
“I’m just tired.”
“Aren’t you sleeping?”
“Not really. Too many nightmares lately.”
“What kind of nightmares?” Commander Caderyn asks, sitting next to me with a full plate.
I explain a little about the people I see in my dreams, but something tells me not to divulge everything, so I don’t. “It leaves me uneasy. I wish they would go away.”
Commander Caderyn sets his fork down, curiosity on his face. “How often do you have these dreams?”
“Every night. They’re growing more intense each time.”
He nods to a Regulator opposite him and I’m picked up under my arms. My chair falls over as I’m violently yanked out of it. Two more Regulators enter the room, each grabbing one of my legs. I thrash myself around, trying to free myself.
“What the hell is this?” I scream, as I’m being carried out of the room. “Let me go!”
Without answering, they take me down the hall, out into the courtyard, then over to a small room next to the studio where the Premier makes his broadcasts. There’s a small plaque next to the door with “Conditioning Room” etched across its surface. The door is unlocked and the room dark. A Regulator turns on the lights while the others drop me into a chair, strapping me down. My arms and legs are tied, and a metal ring is placed around my neck. I continue to protest when a Cruor Burst is emitted from the device around my neck, subduing me immediately. The pain is so intense that I barely notice the needle going into my bicep.
My muscles grow weak to the point I can’t move them. A device is placed over my head, covering my eyes and inserting headphones into my ears. Violent images begin to flash across the small screen in front of me. I try to blink, but my eyes won’t close. After several cycles, the display changes to propaganda videos about how important the Antaeans are to Sirain’s survival. I’m confused as to why they’re showing me these. I’ve been nothing but loyal to the Premier and my fellow Antaeans.
What is this all about? Why are they treating me this way? Am I such a danger that they have to keep reminding me of who I am?
I do begin to feel better after a while. I’m not sure how long I’ve been in the room, but when I’m allowed to leave it’s night. The nightmares subside for several days, but then come back in force, and once again I make the mistake of mentioning it. The cycle of being placed into the conditioning room starts all over again. This is my life for the next month. Plans to tour the country have been placed on hold for the moment. The Premier says it’s best to postpone the events to make sure I’m confident in myself to rally the country. I fear that if I don’t get over whatever is bothering me, the army will proceed to Eretria without me, proving I’m a failure like the young man in my dream claims.
Everyone isn’t happy about the delay, but the Premier assures them this is just a slight delay. It will also give the embryos more time to mature. He’s expressed that his desire is to wait so he can have the new Antaeans tour with us. This, he says, will bring confidence to the people as it will prove our commitment to freeing this country and uniting it as one.
When I’m not in the conditioning room, I’m permitted to go for runs around the massive property. No one goes with me, which is how I like it, but I’m made to wear a tracking bracelet. The Premier’s estate is forty square hectares surrounded by high perimeter fencing topped with razor wire, detonators, and security cameras that send feeds back to the main house. I spend hours outside, alone. I don’t know why I like to run, it just feels natural to me. My body falls into a natural rhythm as my feet hit the ground. I feel comfortable and at ease, almost like it’s a familiar daily ritual. My mind doesn’t feel so confined like it does when I’m at the house.
It bothers me incessantly that no one else is subjected to the torture or the medication that I’m given every few days. I don’t like being treated differently than the others, but I can’t voice my opinion about it, because when I do I’m locked away. I have no one I can talk to about how I feel, so this makes me feel even more isolated. When I’m not running, I’m hiding in my room. The others like to watch shows being broadcasted from Tyre in the media room downstairs. Mair and Thane do everything together, they’re practically inseparable. Kedua visits a lot with Commander Caderyn, especially at night. I’ve only managed to speak with two of the housekeepers. They try to avoid me, but one did agree to fix my hair, so the black is now gone and I’m back to my natural color.
