Regulated Planet, page 22
part #2 of Worlds Apart Series
What they found was entirely different. Shelves lined the walls of a small, earthen room. In the middle was a dusty table with a couple of broken earthenware pots. A pile of old sacks lay in one corner.
“It’s a cellar,” Ameli said disappointedly.
Putting his hand on her shoulder, her father said, “I’m sorry we didn’t find anything. There’s just too much ground to cover, and we don’t have time to keep looking.”
Marlee though, was not so ready to give up. She began walking around the walls, holding up her torch.
Ameli sneezed from the disturbed dust. “Maybe we could hide here though. No one will ever find us.”
“We’re too far from civilisation,” Marlee’s father said. “There’s no way to get food or water. We can’t stay here.”
While they were talking, Marlee noticed a small hole in the wall and held up her torch into it to see what was inside, but the light was inadequate. She stuck her finger in and felt around. There was something inside, something small and hard, and man-made. She bit her lip in concentration, wiggling it this way and that.
There was a click, sounding loud in the darkness, and a rumble as part of the wall slid aside. Ameli and Marlee’s father jumped back. “Well I’ll be...” Marlee’s father exclaimed, and came across to examine it.
Together they moved the heavy wooden set of shelves that was in front of the doorway, and peered in.
“It’s a tunnel,” Marlee stated the obvious.
“But where does it go? Is it an entrance to the freedom tunnels, or just a passage to a second cellar?” Marlee’s father asked.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Marlee pointed out.
“But what if we get lost?” Ameli sounded unsure.
“We don’t need to go too far right now,” Marlee encouraged. “If we find a fork in the passage, we’ll come back. We just need to go far enough to be sure that it’s not a dead end, then we can go get some supplies and come back.”
“We’ll be fine,” Marlee’s father assured Ameli, and Marlee grinned in the darkness. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was excited about this.
“All right. Just to the first fork, if we find one,” Ameli agreed.
“We’d better close the hatch behind us,” Marlee’s father said. “It’s a pity we can’t cover it over with vines again. But I guess it’s unlikely anyone else is going to be wandering around out here.”
Once the hatch was closed, Marlee held up her torch, but the flame didn’t flicker. They peered into the tunnel and Marlee again watched the torches. Though it smelt musty, there was no sign of any effect on the flame. The air was good.
They began to walk down the tunnel, in single file, in the same order they had come down the stairs. Marlee’s elbows brushed against the sides, but it was tall enough for even her father to stand upright. At first, it slanted downwards, with rough stairs carved into the slope. Holding her torch lower, Marlee could see that there had once been wooden stair treads, but they’d long ago rotted away.
After they’d descended well underground, the tunnel levelled out, though it became no wider. It continued in the same direction, occasionally veering as though going around something. It was easy to lose track of time.
Just as Marlee was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable, the tunnel widened into a little room with a wooden bench along one wall. They all sank onto it.
“I wonder how far we’ve come,” Ameli said.
Marlee pulled out her computer, and powered up the screen. As they waited for it to load, her father said, “These must be the freedom tunnels. It’s amazing. I was sure they were just a legend.”
The little blinking light came on. Already they’d covered nearly half the distance back to the road that skirted the environment park.
“It’s only been one tunnel so far, no forks,” Marlee’s father observed. “But it will probably branch off when we get closer to the city.”
“Do we go on, and hope we find another exit in the city, or turn around and go back now, then come back more prepared?” Ameli asked.
Much as she hated having to stop their exploration now, there was only one sensible solution. “We’ll have to go back,” Marlee said, shaking her head. “The torches are already burning down, and if they go out, it’s going to be a miserable trip back. We need proper torches, more food and water, and something to mark our way when the tunnels start to branch out. We have no idea how many there are down here.”
Her father agreed, and they all started back the way they’d come. By the time they were back in the environment park, they were dirty and exhausted. The light was fading, and Marlee couldn’t go any further. They all agreed that they might as well camp in the ruins that night, and work out a way to get more supplies in the morning.
Ameli and Marlee’s father collected sticks and leaves to make a rough roof in a corner of the ruins, though with a clear view of the stars above them, this was more for comfort than for protection from the elements. None of them wanted to sleep in the cellar, it was too dusty and stuffy.
Banned from helping to build, and with too many risks associated with lighting a fire to cook, Marlee sat in the ruins and sorted through the box of items from under her bed.
In reality, other than the tablet and the credit card, the box contained little of use, mostly sentimental items, like the little jacket she’d been knitting for the baby and a wedding picture of her parents that her father had given to her, after carrying around in his wallet all these years.
As she searched through the bits and pieces, tiredness encouraged a rare feeling of hopelessness to invade her mind. She picked up a torn grocery store receipt with the name ‘Anna’ and number written in pen and frowned. For a moment she couldn’t recall what had inspired her to add it to her collection.
Then she remembered the woman who had accosted her and Tyris in the grocery store, wanting to go back to her planet with her, afraid for the illegal baby she carried. The memory of the hopelessness she had felt mingled with what she felt now. How was she ever going to get out of this mess? So much had gone wrong, and not just for her, for so many people on this world.
Somehow, people had helped her. Her father, Ameli, the Baley’s. Why was she so lucky, when so many others weren’t being helped? Why did she deserve this any more than they did?
The truth was, she didn’t.
Her father and Ameli returned with a pile of sticks, and began piling them on the remaining walls in one corner, arguing about who should venture into town to collect supplies. Marlee wished that neither of them had to go.
What they needed was someone else, someone who the authorities weren’t looking for. But they couldn’t keep asking the Baley’s, they had no reason to get involved, and Marlee couldn’t let them put themselves at risk again for no reason.
She fiddled with the phone number in her hand, then stopped and stared at it. “I know who can go,” she said.
Both her father and Ameli stopped and stared at her, then almost in unison said, “You can’t go Marlee, it’s too risky.” They stared at each other, disconcerted, then back at Marlee.
“No, not me,” Marlee said. She waved the phone number. “I have the number of a woman who might be able to help us.”
“Marlee, we shouldn’t drag other people into this,” her father protested. “Helping us could get them in a lot of trouble, we can’t ask that of anyone.”
“But what if they have as much reason to hide from the authorities as we do?” Marlee asked.
Her father and Ameli exchanged a look again. Her father said, “Perhaps, if they have a reason to hide from the authorities, then we don’t want to be involved with them either?”
“What if their reason is the same as mine?” Marlee asked, pointing to her belly.
Her father frowned. “You know someone else who’s having an illegal baby? How?” Then he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I know you like to help people, Marlee, but all these people are not allowed to have children for a reason. Each one of them did something illegal before this.”
“Like Tyris did?” Marlee challenged. “I don’t understand all the laws on this planet, but it seems you don’t have to do much to be called a criminal. Since when was speaking out about something you disagreed with a crime?”
Ameli and her father exchanged another look. “She has a point,” Ameli agreed. “Anyone who has committed a violent crime is exiled off planet. Most of the people who are here have only been sentenced with minor misdemeanours.”
Her father sighed. “Tell us about this woman.”
Marlee explained about the day in the grocery store, and as she described the woman’s fear and panic, she convinced herself all over again.
“She may not still have a reason to want to hide Marlee,” Ameli explained. “There’s only so long she would have been able to hide her pregnancy, and by now, it’s probably obvious.”
Marlee refused to believe it. “There’s only one way to find out,” she said. She picked up the phone they’d gotten off the homeless man and dialled the number.
It rang and rang. Just as she was beginning to think there was no one home, someone picked up. She took a deep breath, then let it out as the answering machine began its spiel. She sighed.
The machine finished its message and beeped. “Hello? Is anyone there? It’s Marlee...” She trailed off, feeling rather silly now for talking to the machine. And for leaving information, however small, as to where she was.
She reached for the disconnect button, then paused when she heard something click on the other end of the phone. After a moment, a quiet voice asked, “Marlee? The woman from Zerris?”
“Yes, that’s me. Is that Anna? We met in the grocery store,” Marlee was cautious now.
“Yes. We did.” Then there was silence on the other end of the phone.
“How are things going?” If the woman’s pregnancy had been discovered, she didn’t want to bring her any more pain.
“Okay I guess,” her voice sounded defeated, leaving Marlee none the wiser about her pregnancy.
“The baby?” she asked.
“Everything seems to be going okay, though I don’t dare go to a doctor to find out. I’m not game to even leave the house anymore.”
“That must be hard,” Marlee said. She wondered how to broach the topic, but there was no way to ease into it. “You know how you wanted to get away badly enough to want to come to my planet?” she asked.
“Yes?” Anna’s voice rose. “Are you going back?”
“No, the mining is still going ahead there, the planet will be uninhabitable in a few months. But I do have somewhere else, I hope, where people like us can have our children safely.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone line. “I heard you had escaped from the authorities,” she said slowly.
“Are you interested?” Marlee asked.
Silence again. Then, “Yes. Yes, I want to come. Where?”
“The wildlife reserve,” Marlee told her. “And on your way, we need some supplies.”
“Can I bring my husband?” her voice sounded uncertain now, as though regretting her hasty decision.
“Of course,” Marlee said. “But once you come, it’s going to be difficult to come back, you understand that right?”
“Yes, of course. It’s not like I wasn’t in that predicament anyway,” the woman agreed.
Marlee gave her the list of supplies, and she repeated each one back as she wrote them down. Marlee was about to hang up, when the woman said, “Is there room for more people?”
“Maybe,” Marlee said cautiously. “Why?”
“There’s a secret group on a networking site I’m on. There’s about twenty of us, pregnant illegally, and we kind of discuss ways to hide our pregnancy, avoid detection, that sort of thing. I’ll bet some of them would love the chance to come.”
Marlee hesitated, then said, “Bring the details. We’ll have to check them out of course, but if they’re genuine, and if things work out the way we’ve planned, we should have plenty of room for everyone.”
As she hung up the phone and told her father and Ameli about her conversation, Marlee wondered what she’d started. She could end up with an entire refugee camp hiding out under the city.
But she just couldn’t say no.
Chapter 16
Tyris walked the deserted hallways from the captain’s cabin up to the bridge. Some time, in the next twenty-four hours, they would come into communications range and he still had no idea what he was going to say to General Harrington.
When he entered the bridge, the first thing he did was check the communications array. But all the lights were still red. No contact yet. He sighed, and sat down in the chair, staring out the front viewscreen at the endless stars.
Various possibilities of what might happen in the next couple of days ran through his mind. He’d had plenty of time to regret his hasty actions, but he was committed now. He had to see this through, and hope that his crazy plan was going to work.
The feint chatter of the communications array startled him. He stared at the radio for a few moments, before reaching over and picking it up. He was about to speak, when inspiration struck and he flicked one switch to play the conversation over the ships internal speakers, and another to record it. It might not hurt to have some witnesses. “Space Force Central, this is Transport Ship seven-eight-five, please come in.”
There was a hiss and a crackle, then, “Transport Ship seven-eight-five, go ahead.”
“I need to speak to General Harrington. Privately.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. His request was most unusual. But it was not the radio operator’s job to question. “Yes, Captain Bekkert, can I please have your identification code?”
Tyris gave the code automatically, then waited. Eventually, General Harrington’s voice said, “Bekkert? What is going on?”
“Is this a private line?” Tyris asked.
“Yes, of course. Now what’s the problem? Did the refugees give you trouble?”
“No, sir, no trouble. But they didn’t want to leave.”
“Did you explain to them that they had no choice, that the planet was no longer theirs?”
“Yes, sir. But they agreed that Weiss’s agreement wasn’t legal.”
“Don’t bring that up again. It will hold up in court just fine. I take it you arrested them then?”
“I’m afraid not, sir.”
“What? Why not? Those were your orders. Put Lieutenant Manterson on.” General Harrington demanded.
“I can’t do that, sir. I left him behind on Zerris.”
“And just what is that supposed to mean?” the general asked.
“It means that mining hasn’t begun. And won’t.”
“The mining ship wasn’t under your orders Bekkert. It will begin with or without your say so.”
“No, it won’t,” Tyris’s tone was apologetic, but his feelings weren’t. Now that he’d started, he was enjoying this. How many times had he wanted to tell the general what he really thought? Now was his chance. He couldn’t get into any more trouble than he was already in.
“Just what is going on? Why is Lieutenant Manterson on the planet, and why did the mining ship ignore my orders?” General Harrington demanded.
“He didn’t feel it prudent to argue with the maniac with cannons trained on him,” Tyris said.
“You threatened to fire on a Colonial ship?” General Harrington shouted.
Tyris wondered what the point of a private line was if the general was going to shout the news to the whole base. “Yes, sir, I did.”
“That’s mutiny,” General Harrington’s voice was calm now—icy calm. “And it won’t do you any good. As soon as this conversation is over, there will be a gunship on its way to your coordinates. I don’t recommend training your guns on it, it will be looking for any excuse at all to fire on you.”
“I have the crew of the mining ship on board, sir. I suggest that firing on me is not the best course of action.”
“Mining crews are a dime a dozen,” General Harrington said. “I see no reason at all to ensure you survive to face court martial.”
Tyris wondered what the occupants of his ship would think of that. “Because you don’t want the truth about this to come out.” Even as he said it, it began to make a terrifying kind of sense. The general had wanted to cover this up from the start, and now Tyris was on the wrong side of the fence.
“The truth will hurt more than just me. If we don’t get this fuel, then the Colonies will come to a halt.” The general was calm now. “Be sensible, son. Turn back now, get those miners to work, and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
“I’m afraid I can’t, sir.”
The general swore. “If you think it’s going to buy you any points with your little girlfriend, I’m afraid you’re too late.”
Suddenly, it wasn’t fun anymore.
Tyris willed his voice to be normal, unconcerned. He wished now that he’d kept his end of the line private as well, but if he cut it now, it would undo any good he’d done. “What are you talking about?”
“We know what happened. I always did think it was fishy from the start, you living with her for all that time and then insisting that you hadn’t screwed her. Now we have proof that the child is yours. I was going to let it slide, since I’d already promised you your status upgrade, but since you won’t be getting that now...”
He let the sentence hang, and Tyris took a couple of deep breaths to stop from himself shouting useless threats down the comm line. Marlee and the baby’s wellbeing could lie in his calmness at the moment. “And just what proof do you have? I find it hard to believe, since it’s not true.”
“Genetic testing doesn’t lie, Bekkert,” the general growled. “I’m afraid your denials aren’t going to help you any at this point.”
Tyris bit his lip, tears stinging the back of his eyes. He could never forgive himself if they hurt Marlee. He took a couple of slow, shallow breaths, hoping they couldn’t be heard over the radio, and said, “Bluffing won’t get you anywhere, General. I’m not concerned about the girl. She means nothing to me.”
