First Life, page 38
part #1 of River Saga Series
I held her, while so many questions emerged inside me. Only one comment managed to escape the flurry of firing synapses in my mind. “You’re human.”
“No. I am Rusa. And so are you.”
EPILOGUE
Dicore Colony
Indie Hart
Indie watched the group of Angor setting up camp at the edge of the colony. They refused to join the rest of the humans in the residences, opting for their own private structure. Indie understood their motives, but wished Abbyl and her team would set a good precedent by trying to integrate with Dicore’s citizens.
Indie’s father had always taught her to lead by example, and she’d struggled to be the picture of empathy and perseverance.
But it was all a lie.
The storm flashed above them, and she cast her gaze toward the lake where Colton, Desmond, and Miya had gone. The skies were clear in that direction, and she suspected the trio would come home soon.
Home was a funny word. She’d lived in New York for twenty years, and not once had it offered comfort. Only Fayetteville, on the quiet street near Colton, had fit the bill. She could have stayed there, and might have even been happy in her ignorance.
But once her father was brought into the Angor’s circle, the veil had lifted. She’d seen the Wizard of Oz, and he wasn’t a small man with a megaphone. Indie sighed and left the rooftop, her hair and clothing soaked to the core. Rain pelted her, but she didn’t care. This was her cleansing. Another rebirth before the next stage of her life.
Indie Hart was a weapon, but not in the way one might suspect. She hated all the lies and deceit, specifically the times she’d tricked Colton. He thought she’d just expired from Xeno on Palora, but the truth was, three years had passed since her lungs had stopped breathing, her heart ceasing to pump.
Director Ulison had orchestrated the entire charade, demanding she bring Colton in. Indie thought she knew Colton well enough to doubt he’d ever work with the Angor, but he’d surprised her. Maybe his loneliness trumped his common sense these days.
Indie went to her quarters, the largest private suite left by the Rusa. Ulison had no information on the race that had once dwelled on Dicore, but she appreciated what they’d left behind. Her cot was centered on the floor, and the walls had built-in shelving units and drawers.
Their exterior was blue, and she ran a finger over the surface, wondering what had happened to the Rusa. She doubted they’d ever learn the truth, but she’d accepted that. Sometimes secrets had a place in the universe.
She hoped hers would remain buried.
Thunder boomed, shaking her walls, and she sat on the cot, resting her wet hands on her head.
Three months wasn’t long enough to set up camp, and she had a lot to accomplish if their part in the War was going to succeed. She reached under the cot, pulling free the hidden compartment. The tablet was in place, and she entered the password. Familyisallyouneed.
Indie’s fingers shook as she selected the files, deleting them. Colton would never forgive her, but this was for the best. His father was the head of the Loyalists, not just one of their spirited members. It was her job to keep Colton away from them. That much was clear. Ulison had spoken about it on numerous occasions over the years. The Loyalists were extremely convincing, and the last thing they needed was another Beck working against the Angor and the Unity War’s objectives.
Indie paused when she came upon an entire section of Morse code. Dots and dashes were littered throughout the files. Years of communications. She longed to read them and imagined Ulison would share her curiosity.
But she’d been ordered to destroy it. The Loyalists weren’t going to thwart the Angor, not after what Indie had witnessed in Angor City. They’d been swatted away like flies at a picnic.
She erased nearly every file, and stopped when she saw the family photos folder. Indie opened the first, which showed Colton and his parents camping. He was about twelve, his dark brown hair draped over his eyes while he held up the tiny fish on a hook. She remembered that summer vividly. Colton had been so thrilled with the excursion, but Indie had missed him every second he was gone. She was angry he didn’t tell her the same. Now it seemed so childish, but then… Colton Beck had been everything to her.
Maybe he still was.
But once he learned the truth, he’d never forgive her.
Indie moved to the next image, and the next, scrolling through his past with a sickening feeling she’d never be able to cleanse, no matter how much rainwater washed over her.
Indie wiped the tears and deleted the final folder. Colton had to separate from his past. It was the only way to get him to secure her future.
Colton’s room was a few doors down in the corridor, and she rushed in that direction, wanting to beat him back.
Ambrose exited his room, and they nearly collided.
“Indie!” he exclaimed, tripping on his own feet. “I didn’t expect you.”
She held the tablet, and he glanced at it, then up to her. His eyes held a suspicion she couldn’t deny.
“Ambrose,” she whispered.
“What are you doing with that?” Ambrose asked, no longer laughing.
Indie had a job to do, and nothing would stop her. She wasn’t just responsible for this colony, but for all of Earth.
She glanced down the hall at both ends, and smiled at him. “I was just coming to show you something I read.”
His mood changed, and she sensed the shift in his posture. The blue pulses emanating from him, visible since her Xeno alterations, slowed, indicating a calmness. Good.
Indie pounced, shifting behind him in a blur. Her hands wrapped around his head, and she twisted it to the side. Ambrose slumped to the floor in a heap. Indie wanted to cry out in anguish, but it had been necessary.
She reminded herself of their ultimate mission as she dragged him away. She hauled him as if he was no heavier than a bag of trash, bringing him outside in the rear of the structure. Indie found the maintenance hatch and opened the lever. Machines from the Rusa’s underground power grid and heating system whirred beneath the residences.
She dumped Ambrose’s body and closed the door, returning to the hallway. Once she brought the tablet into Colton’s room, she shoved it into his pack where she’d discovered it. The paperback was there, and she picked it up, reading the first line. She flipped through it, and something fell onto the cot.
Indie’s heart raced as she saw Colton’s name scrawled on the front in her own handwriting. He told her he’d burned it in a teenage rage. But here it was, all these years later, among his most valued possessions.
She opened the note, finding it was taped and repaired in a dozen spots. Colton said he hadn’t read it. Was that true? Indie sat on the bed, staring at the words from a girl she felt so far removed from.
Colton, there’s not enough paper in the world to express my feelings for you. But this note will have to be a start. I know you’re suffering alone and scared, but I’m the one person you can trust. No matter what. I’ve loved you since the moment we first swung beside each other in the playground. Do you remember that day? The sun was shining, the birds chirping, you with your Razorbacks jersey and baseball cap, me all pigtails and missing teeth.
Indie let the paper fall. What had she done?
Indie thought about all the steps it had taken to get Colton to Dicore. The chance encounter with her friend Amy Horowitz in Arizona when he’d been stagnant at that dreadful motel. And subsequently having her conveniently arrive at the barge to notify him about the Expedition years later.
Barney’s attempt at destroying the barge, and Doctor Balder’s bad news the same day. The hovertrain crash so he could meet Bull. It was all her doing, a plot designed to ensure one man made it to Dicore so they could change the fate of the Unity War. There were so many moving pieces, even Indie fumbled them around occasionally.
The ceiling shook again from the storm, and she realized how easy it would be for someone else to find her here. With a quick fold of the note, she returned it to the book, and scurried from Colton’s quarters.
No one was outside after she’d ordered them to remain secure during the storm. It had been partly to cover for Colton’s mission, and partly to allow her time to destroy the information on his tablet. Ambrose should have listened and stayed with the others.
Indie went to her room, stripping from the wet jumpsuit. It fell with a squishing sound, and she lay on the cot, staring at the ceiling while the storm continued.
Her eyes were starting to close, her mind drifting to sleep when the subtle chime of the Angor earpiece woke her.
She found it in the same compartment beneath her cot, and stuck it into her ear. “Indie Hart.”
“Indie, change of plans. Something’s come up. We’re returning to Dicore. The timeline has been expedited.” Ulison’s voice was strained, breaking up every few words, but she understood.
“Why? What happened?”
“The Dread. It’s ahead of… schedule.”
“We can’t leave yet. We haven’t finished the…” She tapped the earpiece, but Ulison was gone.
____________
Earth
Los Angeles
Present Day
The woman exited the hovertrain, muttering an apology to the passenger blocking her path. She kept her head low, clutching her luggage like only a lost tourist could. She took the escalator to the main street level, and set the baggage to the sidewalk, extending the handle.
She walked down the street, glad for the sunshine. Her legs ached after the long flight from Miami to L.A., but the trip was necessary, so she didn’t mind.
Instead of hailing a cab, she opted for a private courier, Angor owned. They cost more, but the extra discretion was important.
The flying pod arrived five minutes later, and the Angor man opened the hatch, attempting a smile. She sensed the hatred emanating from the man, past his glossy eyes and smirking lips. The Angor despised humans. She didn’t understand how the rest of the population didn’t see the revulsion in their expressions.
“Hello, ma’am,” he said in the flat voice they all had. “Where to?”
“The barge.” She let him place her luggage inside the pod while she took the rear seat, not wanting to sit beside the Angor. They were both happier with that arrangement, she was sure.
“Are you certain? Do you have a pass?” the man asked.
Despite the calm character she was attempting to convey on this trip, she couldn’t hold her outrage at bay. “Since when does a courier demand proof of access for a barge from a civilian?” Her words burned from her lips, and the man jolted in his pilot’s seat.
“I apologize, ma’am. I didn’t mean to offend.”
“Just fly the damned pod.” The woman stared at the landscape as they lifted from the streets. L.A. was hideous. Everything about Earth had the stink of Angor over it now. She preferred the interior, and couldn’t believe she’d actually decided to move to Florida. They’d said it was retirement, but that was a lie. It had only been the beginning.
She saw her reflection in the glass. When had she become so old? Seventy-six years, to be exact. In her heart, she was still the same spry fifty-something she’d been before the bastards decided to come and ruin their lives. Her hair was short and gray, her skin wrinkled and sagging in all the places she didn’t want it to.
The woman took a deep breath, trying to let the anger out. Bill always warned her about her temper, and it had only intensified since their defeat at Angor City. So many good people had been lost, but now the reluctant ones were fully on board. Their sacrifice hadn’t been for nothing. She knew full well that the Angor would have defenses in place. She’d sent them to their deaths that day, but without the momentary sacrifice, the Loyalists would have fallen apart.
Now they had a common ground, a single enemy, a focus that was unbreakable.
With a single loose end.
They flew over the ocean, and she saw the huge barge floating in the water. The woman cringed at the horrible sight, but pushed her fury away. They’d take care of the barges soon enough.
The pod lowered, and the pilot hauled her luggage out once he landed on the parking pad near the ferry terminal.
She paid him with a tap of her tablet, not providing a tip, and the pod disappeared into the sky.
“Hello, can I help you?” a woman asked. Her badge identified her as Barb. Not Barbara. Just Barb.
“I’m here to speak with the barge supervisor. I think his name is Rolosh.”
“And what is this pertaining to?” Barb asked.
“I’d prefer to speak with Rolosh directly.” The woman pursed her lips and followed Barb, rolling her luggage annoyingly behind her.
“You look familiar. Have we met before?” Barb squinted, as if that would help her identify the newcomer.
“No. We haven’t. First time in L.A.” She smiled at Barb, and it was as fake as the courier’s had been.
They entered an office building, and the woman looked at a desk to the right. There were several books behind it, and a photo sat stapled to a corkboard. She walked to the chair and toyed with the name placard. Colton Beck. Her son.
“Rolosh will be in shortly,” Barb said, exiting the room.
“Where are you, Colton?” Harriet Beck whispered. Her son hadn’t been responding to any of their messages, and she was worried the worst had transpired. She tore the picture from the board, staring at the three of them grinning for the camera at one of Colton’s birthdays.
“You want to speak with me?” someone asked from behind her. She turned, finding a middle-aged Angor man. She didn’t sense the same vehemence from this one, but the trust remained broken. He was Angor, after all.
“My name’s Harriet Beck, and Colton is my son. We’re concerned about him…”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Beck. Colton left his posting almost six months ago.” Rolosh indicated a box of his things in the corner. “He forgot this. Would you like it?”
She stared at it, irritated beyond belief. “Where did he go?”
“I have no idea. He told me he was done, and that was that.”
“Did he mention anything about…”
“The Xeno?” Rolosh asked, and she stiffened.
Did this Angor know the truth about Xeno? From their numerous interrogations over the years, they’d determined that most of the general Angor population understood very little about the War or politics.
“You were aware he had Xeno?” Harriet quietly asked.
“Yes.”
“Then why did you let him leave? You should have followed up. Were we listed as his contacts? Why didn’t we hear from you?” Harriet demanded.
“He’s a grown man, and for all intents and purposes, he was just quitting his job. It’s not my place to undertake that type of ordeal—”
She cut him off by raising a finger. “When does the next ferry depart?”
“In ten minutes,” he said, and she left him standing there.
As suggested, the boat arrived, latching to the gigantic barge. The dome was nearly completed, and she peered at it, trying to imagine how much things would change once the Visitors came. She didn’t know their true name, but they harkened the end of Earth as they knew it.
Harriet sat alone, across from a group of workers returning to the coast after their shift. They all seemed happy. Young and free. If only they realized what was coming.
She heard a beep from her tablet, and almost dropped her purse in an effort to grab it. Could it be? The messages from Dicore took so long to transmit, even piggybacking off the Angor’s River network.
Dicore is real. Four thousand lost. Hart at the head. Colton is here.
She read it again and again, until a young man tapped her shoulder, pointing at the darkening sky. “Miss, the ferry is done for the day.” She was alone on the boat, and Harriet wondered how long she’d been drifting in her own world. The spells were happening more frequently.
“Thank you. Sorry. I must have dozed off.” Harriet gathered her things, shaking at the revelation. Colton, her son, had somehow made it to Dicore. How was this possible? She considered asking her contact at Dicore to relay a message, but held off.
She used her alternate tablet, the one connected to her intricate network of Loyalists and their Morse code system. The barges were hazardous. Colton was gone. The end was imminent. Harriet typed a single message, confident the others would decipher it.
... --- ...
.. -. .. - .. .- .-.. / - .... . / ... . -.-. --- -. -.. / .--. .... .- ... . .-.-.-
(SOS)
(Initiate the second phase)
The response came within minutes.
--- .--. . .-. .- - .. --- -. / ... --- ... / .. ... / .--. .-. --- -.-. . . -.. .. -. --.
(Operation SOS is proceeding)
Tonight, she would rent a hotel room and get some sleep. Tomorrow, Harriet Beck, the leader of the Loyalists, would set the wheels in motion. If no one else is going to save the planet, it may as well be this old lady, she thought.
____________
Dicore Colony
“Are you certain this is a good idea?” Miya asked. The colony walls were close, and the storm had all but subsided. Wind still blew their hair, kicking up shale and dust, but the rain was over, along with the thunder and lightning.
“I think this is a terrible idea, but what choice do we have? We can’t very well leave her underwater.” I stared at Krissa, almost laughing at how poorly we were dressed. We’d done our best to cover her with our undershirts and pieces of our jumpsuits. I wore a tarp over my shoulders. The tricky part was going to be sneaking into the colony, and not letting anyone see Krissa with us.
Desmond had verbally accepted Krissa’s claim that we were Rusa, but his body language spoke otherwise. The doubt was written all over his face. He pulled me toward him as we approached the fence. “Colton, I changed my mind.”
