Raiders (4 page)

For the next two hours City officials reviewed their individual plans. The power and electric men, agriculture and livestock reps, supply logistics executives, even waste management organizers, representatives from every City section had a little stage time to talk. All the external greenhouses would be more heavily guarded and back-scaled and primary farming activity would fall back into the giant biodome simply known as the Lens inside the City.. Expeditions would be put on hold as would extra-City excursions, purposeful and recreational both except for critical missions.

The debriefing wrapped up and everyone slowly shuffled out of the auditorium. Aurelia walked up the presentation platform where the Colonel and his assistant stood as they gathered and packed their presentation equipment. She snapped off a firm salute. She said, “Colonel Eiger, sir. I Request permission to see the prisoner Raider.”

“What? Why the hell do you want that?” The Colonel stared at her as if Aurelia, one of his strongest soldiers had just lost her grip on common reality. “Aurelia she’s a barbaric rock. We've had her interrogated for over six weeks and yet all she's given us so far are grunts and spit.”

“With respect Colonel, please. I want to see what she looks like. I never got a visual on her when she was peppering me with that freaking Coilgun.”

Colonel Eiger’s face washed over with a look of resignation and disbelief. He sighed. “Fine, fine. Whatever.” He waved two fingers to his assistant. “Janica. Please see that she has biometric clearance to see the Raider in hold.”

Janica nodded and then quickly saluted. She entered a quick voice memo into her Assistant which was a newer model. Her device felt like a regular everyday cotton lined sleeve and nothing else. “She's clear, sir.”

“Thank you Colonel.” Aurelia saluted him again and then she dismissed herself with a nod. She walked down the stage's ramp and then back to Julian, who stood at its base. “I’m hungry. How bout you?” They walked toward the auditorium’s rear where the exits were. The Colonel's voice boomed from behind them as they walked.

“And Aurelia, before you go see the Raider prisoner. One request.”

“Yes sir, what is?” Aurelia asked.

“Try not to kill her.”

“Will do, sir.” And with that Julian and Aurelia exited the room and headed to the the stir fry stand which was down on the Military Centre's main floor.

The stir fry stand's cook there tended to go a little heavy on the ginger root but it was still a good place to stop and eat. He never washed the wok. Not ever. All the cooks and their little secrets in this last great stand for civilization, the great Polar City Three which couched itself gently underground, away from the violent surface world and its perils.

Centuries ago everyone once believed that the climate would never really change or reflex the surface world to an uninhabitable place. They said once that a changing climate was a delusion, a hoax. The stars in the sky were once the superstitious Gods and Goddesses of dreams long lost. In the end the truth won her rightful place in the thrones of consciousness but the people would always secretly look back to the past in melancholic reverence. Back to a time when powerful fantasies ruled their thoughts and great gods once roared over the heads of men.

The cook wiped out the wok with one of his trusty rags. His stock of toasted sesame oil ran low and he worried about the supply.

The smallest things in our lives are worth the greatest fight. “Next. What you want?” The cook said to Aurelia and Julian. He nodded and then prepped his wok with a spritz of sesame oil from a squeeze bottle wrapped in linen. He swirled the wok in a circle. The oil smoked up and crackled away.

The next day Aurelia set out to visit the mysterious prisoner Raider. She dressed in her full ceremonial dress uniform that she usually only dusted off for award ceremonies or formal events. She originally wanted to go alone but then changed her mind. Julian thought it was a ridiculous waste of time but then realized that somehow or other Aurelia needed this. Maybe it would provide closure for her.

They heard through friends who worked at the Military Centre that the captured Raider girl was a whole new level of strange. They said that she just stared at the ceiling or wall most of the time. She responded to nothing except one time when she actually told them her name. It was Kama. No last name, no title, just Kama.

They arrived at the prison, a visually mismatched couple, Aurelia in full dress while Julian donned only regular around-the-City clothes. They approached the automated guard which was a fixed, barren cylindrical column with only three small holes on its face. Julian spoke into the guard’s embedded microphone. “City ID 30278604,” he said. He placed his palm near the scanner opening which was only a few millimeters in diameter. The scanner returned an emotionless deadpan response, “Clearance granted for City ID 3027522.” Julian backed away from the guard.

Aurelia recited her ID into the auto guard. “City ID 3027522.” She quickly held her palm up.

The robotic guard responded, “Accepted. Please enter with caution. No weapons of any kind are allowed past this point. All Personal Assistants must be removed. Please place all articles in bin.” A large drawer emerged from the guard from a seamless section of the guard.. Julian inspected the drawer in disbelief.
How did they machine that thing with such precision?
He thought.

They placed their armbands in the drawer.. The drawer recessed back and disappeared into the guard’s body. Julian rubbed his hand over the surface and tried to feel any evidence that there was even a drawer there at all. The guard rebelled against Julian’s caress. “WARNING, STEP ONE PACE BACK NOW DO NOT TAMPER DO NOT TAMPER!” Julian comically sprang back from the menace in response.

Aurelia laughed at him. “Damn the one time I wish I had my Assistant to record that!”

“Well at least I got you to laugh. Christ I thought we were going to some kind of funeral here.” Julian huffed, walked past the gate and then proceeded into the prison section. A sergeant waved to them from the hall's far end. “Down here guys, we have her in Observation Three.”

The sergeant escorted them to the observation office. A small window looked into the cell which was about three meters below.. The window was tinted but not mirrored. The prisoner cell resembled a small Pod not unlike the starter Pods that younger people often rented out. There was a couch, a bed, a table, two lamps. Art salvaged from the Old World adorned the walls. They were oil on canvas reproductions, post twenty-fourth century optical realist works.. Gone were the days when a war prisoner was kept inside a gloomy and dismal box of stark concrete and iron. They discovered that captives were more willing to talk if they felt comfortable. It worked better than the torture methods or stress based interrogations used centuries before.

And there she was. Kama rested on the couch as she stared at a nearby potted tree. She insisted on wearing her primitive battle-wear, an ensemble of leather straps and wraps and metal... Carbonsteel bands interlaced throughout the leather offered an additional level of protection. All told her homegrown clothes covered about ninety percent of her body, even her arms all the way to the wrists. There were a few small open areas to allow for improved range of motion but the critical surfaces were shielded by metal coin shaped plates infused into the leather. The tiny plates formed continuous barriers across her outer legs and forearms, her collarbone and the majority of her ribcage. Her armor was antipodal to the laughable female fantasy armors conjured up by science fiction writers long before for it was completely hand made, battle-worn and of substance. It was
real
. The girl Raider's armor looked and smelled as a functional battlesuit should, one that was worn in real fights.

Despite the poorly tailored and utilitarian nature of her garb Kama managed to look vaguely attractive, even through the many folds and layers. Prison workers had to hand launder the wraps since she refused to do so herself, about every third day or so. This was no easy task and the process required a solid quarter of the prison staff to hold her down while they forcibly removed her garments. They offered her regular City clothes but she simply refused to put them on or even acknowledge their existence. To be sure, her leather and metal battlesuit handmade from from the heart of the Great Wastes beyond was a part of her somehow. Maybe it was a religious thing. Possibly they represented to her the one thing that connected her to her tribe now lost to her. Whatever the reason was she would wear no other. Her head was shaven except for a circle of dire blonde strands five centimeters across on the left side. From this patch her hair grew out to about a good meter in length, tightly braided and banded down in dullgrey metallic rings.

Dr. Palmer offered Aurelia and Julian some whispered insight into the enigmatic guest. “We think she's descended from one of the genetic programs, Russian and Chinese co-operative maybe. The periosteum of her bones for example is thicker than an organic person's. Her nerve conduction times are fast, really fast. I mean she has the peripheral nervous system of an sixteen year old but she is at least thirty, maybe older even. We can’t be sure of course, but all the signs are there. Her tattoos are clearly indicate that she's of the alpha women in her tribe.”

Aurelia squinted her eyes at the prisoner Raider who remained listless on the couch below. The potted tree maintained its flourish against her stare.. “Well what the fuck was one of their alpha women doing on a scout mission? Doesn’t make any sense, doc,” she said while she shook her head.

“We really don’t know, but yes that is a good question,” Dr. Palmer responded and then fixed his glasses. “Maybe their inner circle of leaders grew tired of her and re-purposed her? She is genetically modified after all. Just look at her. She'd be more than just useful in any role.”

The doctor was right
, Aurelia thought. There was something inhuman and unnatural about this Kama. Her facial composition hinted at Asian heritage but it was hard to tell from their viewing angle and the distance above the captured girl. “Great well,I think it's about time I meet this chick.” Aurelia strutted to the room exit where the downramp was and from there, the holding cell's entrance.

Julian hesitated at first. He rushed after her and then said, “I thought you just wanted to
see
her. What the hell are you doing?”

Aurelia ignored his response and continued out of the room and down the ramp. Dr. Palmer said “Kama won’t be a threat right now. You guys may see her if you want.. She may very well had been an alpha woman once but she was also kept in a mind control state by her leaders. Kept her hooked on a disturbing variety of drugs. Right now she is in severe withdrawal. She fights only when the staff members have to wash her down.”

Julian raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Really doc? Holy shit. What kind of drugs?”

Dr. Palmer said “Well, we isolated a number of alkaloids in her blood, mostly exotics. Some amphetamines organically bound, another stimulant that is really close to cocaine but the analyst rats over at the lab think its synthetic. All of them are highly bound though. Oh yeah, they also found some phenolics that suggest the drugs were all part of a tea or maybe a prepared drink powder.”

“What does that mean?”

“What that means is that after one drink of whatever the shit was that they fed her she was probably addicted from that point. Probably hooked her young..”

“So she’s basically been a slave all her life then. Chemically controlled.”

“Yes Julian. Yes, it would seem that way,” the Professor said.

“Yet she believes she is elite, a leader.” Julian twitched at the sound
klllaaanng
as a steel door closed outside the observation room. He looked through the window and into the holding cell below. Aurelia stood expressionless in the cell. She was only eight meters away from the prisoner Raider girl who remained motionless on the couch except for the occasional rise and fall of her ribs against her breaths. “Shit I better get down there. Bye doc, thanks,” Julian said.

“Take care Julian.” The Professor dismissed him with a wave.

Julian shuffled down the ramp, opened the cell door and then closed it behind him. Aurelia did not move at all. She simply stood and stared at Kama who remained in her original place, frozen.

A moment later Kama finally moved her head and looked directly at Aurelia. Next she looked to Julian who stood behind her and then back to Aurelia once more. The Raider inspected Aurelia’s bio prosthetic that replaced her upper arm. Kama raised into a stand, her leather battlesuit creaked and groaned. She was at least as tall as Julian, Aurelia thought. One step forward and she said while she continued her visual lock on Aurelia’s arm and then smirked. “I missed.” s

Those two words were more than Kama had said in over three weeks and it threw the doctor into what is referred to as a
holy-shit moment
within the well-piped academic circles of prestige.

As she said this Julian stepped forward so he and Aurelia stood together. “Hello Kama my name is Julian and this is Aurelia. How are you?” Aurelia threw him a sideways glance, her disapproval with his generic statement evident.

Kama looked at Julian, ignored his question and then asked him, “Julian, what rank are you?”

Julian guessed that Kama wasn’t an idiot. She probably had figured out that only military are allowed into the facility let alone the holding cell of a living prisoner of war. “Me,” he said and put his hand to his chest. “Well, uh. I am a Captain.”

“And what or who you be a Captain of?” Kama's grasp upon English was clearly not a strong one.

Julian leveled out his stance and stood a little taller. “I am in charge of armored vehicles and the mobile platforms. Also the auto turrets.” Julian paused and then looked up and down Kama's leather battle gear. “Kama. We just want to know.
Who are you
? Why are you Raiders spying on us?”

Kama did not respond but instead walked right up Julian in slow fluid steps and then stood in front of him. He could smell her leather battle gear that emitted overtly subtle hints of of oil and dirt and sweat, a strange thing considering it all had been washed several times since her capture. Her armor suit creaked with her every move, not sharply so but with a dulled low-twist pitch as if the armor was crafted ages and centuries ago. “I like this face.” She grabbed his upper arms. “Nice too. Yes. Hmm.”