Sector 6 - Mali
Vivian Drowel
When morning came, Quinton prepared them a meal of vitamin-enriched oatmeal and a loaf of stale bread. Vivian found the food distasteful, but once again Traq devoured his—and her—helping like a starving child. Vivian was grateful Traq was here. At the very least, their host wouldn’t be offended. For whatever reason, Traq really did enjoy the food.
Quinton carried his still-sleeping daughter to his wife’s room. Vivian got her first good look at the sickly woman. She was small and slender and wrapped in a thick woolen blanket. Her face was drawn and pale. Quinton was right. She didn’t have long for this world.
The sun was brighter and a deeper shade of red than she was used to when they headed out. It beamed down on them, promising to leave burns on her skin.
Children played a game with sticks. They all stopped to watch them pass.
Everything was different this morning. A thin layer of dust covered the city now and not many people were outdoors. Most of the water basins she’d seen the night before had lids covering them. Those lids were also covered in dusty clay.
Quinton saw her expression of distaste and chuckled. “Last night was just a light breeze. After a rain, we don’t have to worry about bad storms for a few months.”
“I’d hate to see it during dry years,” she said.
Quinton turned down a street. They passed more homesteads and apartments and a few shops just opening for the day. Meager wares and stale foodstuffs seemed to drive the economy.
Quinton led them to a squat three-story building. Out front, she saw four Jeeps—ancient combustion engines—and the first green plants in the entire city.
The greenery consisted of a well-tended garden. A few rose bushes, some dandelions, and a lonely persimmon. There were also a few undistinguishable bushes scattered around the flowers. It was pathetic compared to the carefully tended gardens she’d seen but made beautiful by proximity to so much dust and clay.
Vivian was impressed. “It’s nice to see some things grow well here.”
“My wife used to tend it,” Quinton explained, an edge of pride in his voice. “But when she got sick…” His voice trailed off. He cleared his throat. “Some of the secretaries kept at it. A lot of people think it’s a waste of water, but I think it inspires hope. I let them keep it.”
“It is beautiful,” Vivian said. “Maybe one day your entire planet can be like this again.”
Quinton laughed. “Fill one hand with wishes and the other with…”
There was a sudden creaking sound. The door of the squat administration building burst open with a crash and a man stumbled outside, brandishing a projectile rifle. He pointed it at Vivian.
And here it comes, she thought. She’d been expecting this ever since the first walk through the city the previous night. She hoped to be gone before they found their courage.
She heard a shuffling from nearby as Traq crouched behind her and a whining sound, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off the man as he spoke.
“We’re confiscating your ship.”
“Allen—” Quinton started.
“Shut up, old man!” the man said, briefly pointing the gun at Quinton before turning it back to Vivian. “You’re too weak to do what is needed around here.”
“There’s no need for violence,” Vivian said, keeping her voice low.
“Then you’ll turn over the ship peaceably?” Allen asked, hope and suspicion on his face.
“I’m afraid I can’t.”
Allen’s face hardened, and he drew the gun up. “Tell us how to fly it.”
“She’s going to help us,” Quinton admonished. “Please lower the weapon!”
“Yeah, she is,” Allen said. His grin was that of a feral animal. He was missing half his teeth. “All we need is her ship!”
It would take two seconds to kill this poor man. He wasn’t trained, so he couldn’t even understand how horribly outmatched he was. The rifle wasn’t even aimed at her, but rather over her left shoulder. Vivian could draw her pistol, dodge his first haphazard shot, and one quick snap would end it. But she didn’t want to do that. He was just a scared man with a rifle and no wits.
“I’ll deliver your request for help to every planet I can,” Vivian said.
Allen started laughing, nearly hysterical. “Like that would do any good. Those money grubbers wouldn’t pull us out of the water if we were drowning.”
“We can’t take her ship,” Quinton pleaded. “Allen, think this through. You have a family!”
“I said shut up!” Allen growled. Then his eyes narrowed and he spoke again. His voice thick with emotion, but Vivian heard every word. “We’ll just figure the ship out ourselves. It can’t be that hard.” Vivian started to reach for her pistol.
Suddenly, Allen’s head disappeared, vaporized by a point-blank laser shot.
The hiss of the rifle came from inside the administration office. From their angle, they couldn’t see who it was. Slowly, the body slumped to the ground, thudding on its knees and collapsing sideways.
The shoulders landed in the garden, scattering dust into the air. Luckily the shot cauterized the neck, but there was still a little fountain of blood spurting from the neck, drenching the white roses with droplets of blood.
Vivian let out a breath and glanced over at Quinton. The mayor stood frozen in place, staring at the body, all of the blood drained out of his face.
“Allen was one of my deputies,” Quinton whispered. A man stepped out of the building with a rifle slung over his shoulder. This man Vivian did recognize.
It was Ralph.
“Sorry, I heard the commotion from inside and got here as fast as I could,” Ralph said, leaning his rifle against the door and kneeling next to the body.
He’s entirely too casual. This is definitely not his first time. I’m used to seeing death from my experiences as a Shield, but for most people, the first death they experience is traumatic and—
Uh oh.
Vivian spun and glanced down the street behind them, letting out a long sigh and placing her knuckles against her temples.
I am really not good at this at all.
Traq was gone.
2
Quinton stood in the center of the street as the woman disappeared down the road at a full sprint. She was fast, and he knew without a doubt that he couldn’t keep up for even a few seconds. She disappeared around the corner, and he realized what she was after.
“The kid must have gotten scared,” he mumbled, turning back to the carnage. He felt sick. He felt old. He needed to be strong. He was in charge of this city, for God’s sake. It wouldn’t be good for him to fall to pieces.
There was nothing he could have done.
Allen made his choice. Thank God Ralph was there.
“Thanks,” Quinton said. He moved over to Ralph, patting him on the shoulder. His legs were wobbly, but he could keep it together.
The roses were covered in little drips of blood. “My wife would kill me if she saw this.”
Ralph Pearson chuckled. “That she would.”
“We need to, uh…” he said, then shook his head. His mind wasn’t working. “We should…”
“Let’s get him moved before people come around. His family shouldn’t see him like this.”
Quinton nodded, thankful Ralph was here. I can never repay this debt, he realized. He grabbed Allen’s left side, fighting down his revulsion, and Ralph grabbed the right. Together, they carried his torso and limbs back into the administration building.
A thin trail of blood followed them as they carried his deputy. First past the desks, then the staircase leading to the second floor. They traveled down a hallway to a storage room. Quinton’s back strained from the load, like when they brought in grain from the silos or salt from the mines. This was just like that.
Except no matter how hard he wished, it was still Allen.
Don’t fall apart. Keep it together.
They put the body in the storage room. It was the only thing he could think to do. Later, they would have to move it, once he called the coroner. Probably in a few hours.
Quinton hated leaving Allen here like this, but he had to make sure the mess was contained before he could do anything about it.
“Thank you,” Quinton repeated as they grabbed a pair of mops. He started scrubbing the line of blood that led back to the front door. A clear path. He still felt sick to his stomach, but it was as much from worry as it was from revulsion now. He didn’t know what he was going to do, what he was going to say.
Especially to Allen’s family. He was a good man. He didn’t deserve to die like this. He took a deep breath and reminded himself to take things one step at a time.
“Thank God I was here,” Ralph said while they scrubbed. “I didn’t make it home last night with the storm coming on. Just slept in my office.”
Quinton nodded. It took only a few moments to clean up the blood. They worked in silence, but when they were done, he noticed Ralph staring at him. He was expectant, leaning against his mop.
“This wasn’t isolated,” Ralph said softly. “You know it wasn’t.”
“Allen was always too rash—”
“No,” Ralph said, shaking his head vehemently. “The man’s dead. He doesn’t need us making a mockery of his life.”
“He tried to kill us.”
“His choices were bad. But the underlying problem is still there.”
Quinton leaned in close, whispering, “We can’t steal her ship. We aren’t thieves.”
“We don’t need her ship,” Ralph replied. “Allen was wrong. But we have problems. Legitimate problems. And we can’t keep sweeping them under the rug!”
“Vivian promised she would get the word out. If we can get more water purifiers, then…”
Ralph was shaking his head. His eyes were cold. “No. Equipment won’t solve anything. At best, it will be a bandage. We need to address the problem at the source. They don’t listen.” As he said the last word, he waved vaguely out the door at the city beyond. His voice was gradually rising in anger as he spoke.
“If we just buckle down and fix our own problems, then we won’t need anyone else’s help. It is not their job to take care of us, Quinton. I might have pulled the trigger, but you forced his hand. His death is on your hands. No one will help us unless we can help ourselves.”
“Ralph…” Quinton said. “We can’t stop people from using water.”
“We can regulate it better. And the food.”
“We can’t—”
“We can!” Ralph said, throwing his mop across the room. “Stop hiding behind fear! Allen’s dead because he thought you were weak. Maybe he was right.” Ralph was practically spitting the words. He stared at him, then looked over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed. “We don’t need their pity.”
Quinton glanced over his shoulder and saw Vivian coming back to the building, holding hands with a terrified-looking Traq. He was glad they’d had time to move the body out of the way.
By the time he turned back, though, Ralph was gone.
3
Traq hadn’t made it far down the street before Vivian caught him. He was around the corner at a full sprint back toward Quinton’s apartment, terrified. She’d put her hand on his shoulder to stop him. His sudden reversal of direction almost tripped her as he jumped at her. He clung to her waist, crying and sputtering.
Wow, I’ve had the kid for four days and already he’s watched somebody get murdered in front of him. I don’t need a book to tell me how bad I’ve screwed this up. Is there anything else I can ruin today?
She gently patted him on the back for a few minutes, trying to figure out what to say. What could possibly make this situation any better? Had Traq’s mother ever taught him about death? She doubted it.
Vivian hadn’t seen anyone killed until she was twenty-four. She’d seen animals killed for ritual and slaughter. But never people. What kind of effect would seeing a man get his head blown off have on a five-year-old?
It couldn’t be good, but there was nothing she could do about it. Right now, she had to get him off the planet before anything else went wrong.
“Let’s go,” she said, grabbing his shoulders and stepping back. He looked up at her, still sobbing, and she felt miserable. She took his hand and started walking back toward the building. At first, he struggled a little, but then he fell silently into step.
She saw Ralph and Quinton talking in the doorway, and then Ralph disappeared farther into the shadows. There was still blood in the garden, but the body was gone, for which she was duly thankful. Quinton handed her a stack of data pads.
“I…this is all the data we have on those stations I told you about. It’s not edited. Don’t worry, we have copies.”
She took them gently and slid them into a pocket. She didn’t even care anymore. “You have my thanks.”
“You should go,” Quinton said, but he couldn’t meet her eyes. “It’s not safe here now.”
“I understand,” she said. They shook hands.
“I can take you back to your ship,” Quinton said, gesturing to one of the off-road vehicles. Vivian helped Traq inside and sat next to him as Quinton put the vehicle into motion.
They traveled in silence out into the deserted wasteland. It couldn’t sustain, she knew. It was a fragile city slowly bleeding to death from multiple wounds. One misstep and they would all die.
She wished she could help. Right now, though, she wasn’t even sure she could help one five-year-old child.
Once at their ship, Quinton said farewell as Vivian lowered the ramp. Traq disappeared from her side to his room and she went to the cockpit, firing up the engines.
She placed a call directly to the Office of Wade. He answered quickly.
“Hello Wade,” she said.
“Vivian,” Wade said, delighted. “How are you?”
“Terrible,” she said.
“Oh?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “Whatever could be the—”
“Stuff it, Wade,” Vivian said. “I’m not good at this. It was a terrible plan.”
“Kids usually are,” he said. “And the worst part is, you can’t give them back.”
“This one I can,” she said. He shook his head, his smile disappearing.
“No, Vivian. You can’t. You’re committed. Come Hell or high water, you are committed.”
“I’m just making things worse. I screwed up, Wade. I screwed up bad,” she said. Her voice sounded whinier than she would have liked.
“Oh, it couldn’t have been—”
“He watched a man die.”
A pause. “He what?”
“You heard me.”
“Wow. I don’t know what to say. Did you have to kill him?”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Vivian said, offended. “I wouldn’t do anything like that unless absolutely necessary.”
“Well, there you go,” Wade said. “Just help him get past this and turn it into a lesson.”
“What lesson, Wade, should a five-year-old learn that involves death?” she asked, and then sobbed. “Wade, I can’t do this. I’m just going to drop him off somewhere safe and leave.”
“If you do that, you know what will happen,” Wade said, his voice soft.
“I can’t,” she said, brushing a tear off her cheek.
“You can. Just be there for him and help him. You are a terrific person.”
She sighed. “Okay, Wade. I’ll try. But I’m telling you, I’m just going to make things worse. I’ve probably ruined him already.”
She clicked a few controls, trying to guide her ship off the planet into space. It didn’t move. Instead, a warning light flashed on and she scrunched her nose up in confusion.
Crap, are we stuck in the mud? Did something break?
“Wade, I’ll contact you later. I have a problem.”
“All right, Vivian. Just remember two things: you can do this, just be there for him.”
“Uh huh, and what’s the other thing?”
“I now have video footage of you crying,” Wade said and then the screen went blank. Vivian cursed and stood up, wiping tears from her eyes. Despite Wade’s encouragement, she knew she was no good for the kid.
She could drop him off at an orphanage. Make them promise to take good care of him. She would just ruin everything for both of them if she took him in. He doesn’t deserve to be stuck with someone as terrible as me, she thought. I never was good with children.
The warning was still blinking, and it showed the ramp was still lowered. The outside controls were deactivated, so the command had come from inside. She picked up her pistol and moved slowly through the ship, wondering if she had an intruder. Another person wants to take my ship?
She made it to the ship’s ramp and saw Traq near the exit hatch, facing away from her with something heavy clutched to his chest. She scrunched her nose in confusion, lowering her gun.
“Traq?”
He spun, almost dropping his armload. She saw that it was a large bucket filled to the brim with water from the ship’s sink. He saw her eyes go wide and looked down at the bucket, almost apologetically.
“They need water,” he said. Vivian stood in the hall, staring at Traq. “So, I was going to bring them some.”
Suddenly it was hard for Vivian to breathe.
I was wrong, Vivian realized, stepping forward and gently taking the container from him. I don’t deserve someone as good as him.
