The 45th Parallel, page 8
I sighed. “Maybe.”
We tested the door, checked for loose joints in the walls, and even contemplated ripping off the toilet, only to realize the hole in the concrete floor was too small for us to pass through. The walls were thick and muffled all sounds from outside, so it was deathly silent. It was also likely that we were alone on this floor. Abandoned. Every move we made was amplified and reverberated throughout the tiny space. The air was temperate but had a strange metallic scent, like it had passed through an artificial filter. When I suggested this to Sera, she pointed out that perhaps it all smelled like this, and the dust and dampness masked it in our office hideout. The only light was from the eerie green emergency lighting running along the passageway. Our eyes adjusted, and we could see enough to see all the gloomy tiny space, but not in any detail, which was probably just as well, as it likely hadn’t ever been cleaned. We discussed what Sera had learned in the files as quietly as possible, which all fit with what little we had seen. A tightly controlled military society that was fearful of outsiders and implemented harsh penalties for anyone who disobeyed their rules.
Time dragged by as we were held prisoner in that dim, confined space, and we quickly realized that a single bed wasn’t big enough for two tall girls. I felt guilty as I was physically larger than Sera and took up more space. We tried to top and tail, taking turns to sleep while the other exercised in the five-meter by three-meter area, but eventually we found a comfortable position where we could both get a little rest simultaneously. Strangely, despite the cramped quarters, we both felt less anxious when we lay down together. “Misery loves company,” I remembered Mum saying once. But it was reassuring to know she was here, and we were together. The bed was like lying on a slab of rock, but when you are tired enough, you really can sleep anywhere.
At some point, a tray with two bowls of what we assumed to be stew was pushed under the door, but with no natural light, we did not know what time of the day it was. We paced, talked, and slept, our circadian rhythm completely thrown out. Two bottles of water had been provided on the first day, which we refilled from the small basin in our room. The water also had a strange taint, a chemical taste that reminded me of the operating theater in the clinic, and I prayed we weren’t being drugged. We starved between meals and tried to savor them when they came, but as it was even more disgusting cold than lukewarm, after our third meal, we gave up and just devoured it, hoping that death by starvation wasn’t their plan.
“Three meals. Do you think that means we have been here for three days?” I asked Sera as we ate. It was a brown slop, a mix between soup and stew, but the contents were unidentifiable. I poked at a suspicious-looking brown lump, unsure what it was, but ate it anyway. Potato maybe? It was food, and I was ravenous.
“It feels like a month,” she said sadly, wiping her bowl with her finger.
“Well, I hope not. Surely they will want us gone next time the portal opens?”
I pushed the empty tray under the door. No one spoke to us or in our presence. A uniformed guard arrived, pushed the tray under the door, often slopping the contents, and walked away. We learned after the first meal that the tray would sit in our cell until we pushed it back out. The door was not opened, and no eye contact was made. They were taking no chances.
Sera lay on the bed, facing the wall. I curled in behind her. With no chair in the room, there was nowhere else to sit.
“Do you remember sharing a room when we were kids? Before we knew we were sisters.”
I snuggled in closer, even though it wasn’t cold. “You have always been my sister. I always felt closer to you than Katrin or Xanthe.”
“That is probably an age thing.”
“No, it was a choice thing. Well, except when you were mean to me.”
“If I recall, you could be pretty awful too.”
I grinned, even though she couldn’t see me. “Well, there is no one else I would rather be held prisoner with.”
“Same. Although I am worried about what was in what we just ate. Hopefully not former residents who opposed their rule.”
“Ugh.” Sera and I had both heard the stories of my parents being kidnapped by men who ate human flesh near Inverness. As children growing up in the safety of Lewis, it had seemed far-fetched. A work of fiction. Now it seemed all too real.
“How long do you think they will keep us here?” she whispered.
“No clue. When the portal opens, I hope they shove us through. I don’t care where we end up. Nothing can be worse than this.”
We woke with a jolt as the bulky metal door was dragged across the concrete floor, four guards dragging us half-asleep off the bed. We were thrown into the moving room, separated, and hauled in different directions at the top. I was pushed into the same interrogation room as last time or at least one that looked identical. Everything here was cold and drab. The people all looked the same. No one smiled. Even the public areas were strangely quiet with no noise associated with life. Sera and I had agreed that everything was militaristic in this city. The people, the facilities. Utilitarian and uniform. Men and women appeared to be treated equally, performing the same roles, but with equal severity and brutality.
Four officials once more sat at the far side of the table: two men and two women. I couldn’t tell if it was the same people from last time, not that it mattered. They fired questions at me so rapidly that it made my head spin, not aided by the lack of sunlight, fresh air, and food. I felt faint from the lack of food and could barely stand up.
“Has six days in solitary changed your mind?” I was asked as I wilted.
Six days. So fed once every second day. My head drooped to my chest. No wonder I was struggling, and my jeans were hanging off me. Coming from a world where we ate three meals a day and food was plentiful, this was harsh. Sera and I knew each other implicitly. Neither would rat out the other. The benefit of six days locked in a room together, and knowing we were in a hostile community, was that we also had a chance to review and agree to a detailed story, running through all the variables and potential plot holes. Vigilantly, I stuck to mine, knowing she would do likewise. We were sisters. Blood bonds ran far deeper than any loyalty I had toward them. Nothing they could threaten either of us would make us betray each other. When pressed, I told them what we had rehearsed. We were from an isolated community in Australia, loosely based on Kiewa, although I didn’t give a name. We had been born there. One day on our way to a friend’s house, we had been picking flowers and had been sucked into a dark hole and ended up here. I could describe the feeling of the antipodal portal quite clearly. It was still fresh in my mind. From the minuscule facial reactions, I could see they knew what I was talking about, so I embellished this with detail and passion. I could describe Australia well enough, even though I was seven when we left. After all, grass and mountains could be anywhere. But I remembered enough of what Dad had said about the landscape to describe eucalypt trees and other Australian natives.
I could tell they weren’t buying it, but they also couldn’t make sense of how we had ended up here. We plainly were what we claimed to be, two twenty-one-year-old girls, not battle-hardened warriors.
One of them lifted our two backpacks onto the table and upended them, spreading our clothes, toiletries, and toothbrush, our supplies for a trip to Australia, across the desk.
“What is this?” one of them barked at me.
“Clothes?” I said innocently.
He slammed his fist down on the table with such force at my perceived insolence that I was certain he had shattered the timber surface. But years of appearing nonchalant when interrogated stood me in good stead. I didn’t react. They were watching me closely.
Spending my life with Illy had taught me how to read people. She was a master at reading motivations and thoughts from a tiny flicker or facial reaction. I had used this to my advantage on Newgrange with Finn and Reilly. These people had expected a reaction. Now they were confused.
“How did you come here?”
“We told you,” I whispered. “We fell through an opening near the river at home. But I don’t know how.”
“How long have you been here?”
For this question, I knew I needed to tell the truth. “Days, I think,” I admitted. “We were scared. We don’t know how long. With no sunlight, we can’t tell time.”
His eyes flickered. He bought it. “Was it a full moon when you left home?”
I tried to look confused, but my ears had pricked up at the question, confirming our suspicions about the portal. “I think so, but it was daytime, so I can’t be sure.”
“If you have been here for days, where did you stay all that time?”
“We came in through the lake at the bottom, the hot one,” I said truthfully. “But we were scared. So we tried to hide so we could go home without being seen. It was so loud. We don’t have anything like that at home.” I let my fear show and saw the nod of satisfaction in their eyes. The last thing I was going to tell them was that we hid in the office. They might search it again and locate the laptop.
“What did you see?” It was a woman this time, barking her question.
“Lots of noisy machines.” I again spoke truthfully. “We had some food and wanted to stay hidden until we could find our way home. We were scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“This,” I waved my hand toward them. “We come from a farming community, under a dome, of course. I know about cows and sheep, but nothing about guns and fighting.” This wasn’t entirely true, but I could tell them enough about agricultural life to be convincing.
“A farm?” one of them asked, disbelief dripping from her words.
I launched into a spiel about our farms. Milking cows, collecting eggs, vegetable patches, and Dad’s beloved fruit trees, careful not to say anything about our technology. I spoke about Xanthe’s pet lamb and all the chores we were expected to perform, like weeding gardens and fetching water. I chattered away about riding horses and our rural school, hoping I painted a convincing picture of an innocent girl living a simple farm life with her parents and siblings.
Despite my bubbly chatter and exaggerated use of hand gestures, I watched closely and could see the spark of recognition in the older man’s eyes. He remembered this life, the one I was describing. The younger ones likely heard of such a lifestyle from elders or books, and it was so remote from this place that it seemed farfetched. As I continued describing a sanitized version of my life on Lewis, I hoped the older official would convince the younger ones that I was telling the truth. I remember Summer telling us a story from her father. He had taught them how to respond if she or Ally were being interrogated, back when Lewis was concerned about an attack from other communities. “Always tell the truth as much as possible, only changing the points that absolutely need to be changed to avoid giving you away.” We had utilized this strategy with great success for many years.
They fired a few more questions at me, but I could tell they were wavering.
“We will test this story of yours in two days. If you are lying, the consequences will be dire. I warn you. We do not tolerate invaders.”
My heart lurched. Two days. Is that all? Have we been here that long?
There was nothing else I could do. I smiled, maintaining the façade.
Chapter 15
“We need to work out how to escape,” Sera whispered in my hair as we curled up on the bed. “I am not planning to spend my life here. Forgive me if I don’t have any faith in them. What if they don’t send us home or follow us through?”
“The way they spoke, they will publicly assassinate us if the portal doesn’t open. I can’t see them keeping us alive. Using their precious food and oxygen.”
“What if it doesn’t open on the full moon? What if we have brought this portal into alignment with the Nexus, and now it only opens on the solstice?” Sera was freaking out. We needed a plan. Fast.
Based on the comment made during my interrogation, I knew we were on the right track, and this community linked to others on the full moon. We didn’t know if it was a one-off or if it was now open on the solstices like our antipodal communities. But the last thing I wanted was to distress her further. “Do you think your mum would help?” I asked. “If we could get a message to her?”
“She would, but can you imagine? She will storm in and demand we are let go. Then they will know it was us who reactivated the portals and our mums who deactivated them. That won’t go down well. They cut themselves off before they were decommissioned. They don’t play well with others.”
“Agreed. Perhaps not your mother.”
“What about Tadhg?” Sera suggested.
“Maybe … but his loyalty will be to our parents. What about Summer? She knows how to get in and out of places without detection. How many smuggling missions has she run over the past few years, and your mum still has no clue?”
“Ooh, I like the way you think. She won’t drop us in it either. Besides, I have enough dirt on her. She would never rat me out.”
“Do you have a way of contacting her?” I asked.
“Potentially, if I can get access to my laptop. She carries a satellite radio. I helped her scramble the signal so Mum can’t track it.”
“They didn’t raise it during my interrogation, so I’m not sure they found it. They took our bags from us, but they may not have searched the room. Even if they found it, they may be unable to access it.”
Sera smirked. “I would like to think not. I built that security encryption. Even Tadhg can’t hack that. He tried.”
“Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“No. But save it for after we get hold of it.”
“Did they ask you anything that indicates they found it?”
“No, strangely enough. I was asked all the ‘where are you from?’ questions, but not about the laptop. I just cried, and they brought me back here.”
“How odd. Clearly, they think I am the ringleader.”
“Because you usually are!”
“Hey! Whose tech skills got us here?”
“Both of us. It was a joint effort, remember?”
“Alright, let’s think this through. Escape. If the next time they open that door is in two days to take us back to the portal, I can’t see them sending us on our way with a picnic. They don’t open the door, so there is no chance of overpowering a guard.” I glanced at Sera. “Besides, I don’t think we have the brute force for that. Pretending to be sick won’t work. They simply won’t care. Let’s recheck the walls and floors. Someone might have loosened something. It stinks and has never been cleaned, so we can’t be the first people held in this room.”
Sera and I checked every surface, every seam between panels, walls, and floor. We even stood on the bed and checked the ceiling, but that was also made of a single slab of concrete. It was thick, solid, and immovable. Sighing, I gave up.
“Is there any chance we can widen the toilet hole? We can swim if it lands in water, and I am fairly sure it does.”
“That would freak them out.”
“Agreed. Not like I care.”
We tried to move the toilet, but it was tightly affixed. No matter how much we used our legs braced against the wall, we couldn’t shift it.
“Fuck!” I seethed. “There must be a way out. Knowing it is my fault, I will not stand by and watch them invade our home.” I rested my forehead against the door, staring down the hallway, seeking inspiration. Anything we could use. My eye caught the flash of silver, and I strained to focus my eyes in the semi-dark on the other side of the grilled gate barricading us in.
“Sairs! The key is in the lock. Can you reach? You have thinner arms.”
Sera maneuvered herself close to the door and tried to slip her arm through.
“No chance,” she muttered. “The bars are too close together.” She pulled her arm back and rubbed the reddened areas where the bars had pressed against it.
“We need to. This is our only chance, and they may not leave it again. Try again.”
Sera stood hard against the bars but couldn’t get her arm through far enough to bend it around to reach the key.
“Even if I could reach it,” she grunted as she forced her arm through, “I couldn’t get a grip on it and have enough space to move to pull it from the lock. Help me.”
Pulling on her torso, I helped her return her arm into the room. Redness was appearing where she had pressed firmly against the bars.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “We don’t have enough time to lose more weight and get skinnier arms. This is the first time I have noticed the key, so I am fairly certain it wasn’t left before. They could take it anytime, so we need to move.”
“I know,” she admitted, rubbing them. “What else can we do?”
I stood to the side, staring at the key taunting me.
“Turn out your pockets,” I asked Sera.
She looked at me oddly but pulled various random items out of her pockets. I did the same and poked through the bits of rubbish. Mostly small computer pieces in hers and small bits of copper wire in mine, leftover from activating the antipodes. Random small things I had picked up in my explorations around the rooms on the underwater level.
“Take your t-shirt off.”
“No!” she snapped. “Why don’t you?”
“Because yours is a thinner fabric, light-colored, and I can see better. I’ll keep watch. No one will see you.”
Grumbling loud enough for me to hear, she pulled it over her head. “What do you want it for? It won’t fit over your boobs.”
I grimaced at her taunt. “Spread it underneath the door, as far on the other side as you can. Create the largest catchment area.”
Light crossed her face as she realized what I was planning to do. As I straightened the offcut of copper wire, Sera spread her t-shirt under the door on the far side with just enough fabric that we could pull it back. The lock was a simple mortice one, but it still took ages using the two ends of the copper wire to probe gently and pick the lock. The key popped out of the lock and fell to the floor in the hall, landing on the outer edge of one of the t-shirt sleeves.
