GRAVE DIGGERS - Part VI

While I'm feeling much better, the medical procedure I had last month has put things a little bit behind.

I promise I'll catch up on the end of Q1 and start of Q2 for Quarterly Goals next week.

For now, I hope you enjoy Part VI of GRAVE DIGGERS!

*****

GRAVE DIGGERS

 

Part VI:

Desi:

“Do you think he’ll really bring us the footage?” Edmund reached up to grab a thick volume from the top bookshelf in Desi’s office. He passed it to where she sat on the floor, surrounded by several other open books and diagrams.

“We’ll know soon enough.” Desi muttered, flipping the newest book open to a mechanical schematic. Her eyes shifted quickly from left to right, reading the specifics before switching back to another sketch she’d been working on all morning. Even with her knowledge of pre-Quake technology, there was something she needed in these materials that was eluding her.

“Thanks for the pep talk, Des. I feel so much better.” Edmund flopped into a nearby chair, his long legs stretched out to nearly touch Desi’s makeshift work station.

“You know there’s nothing else we can do about it at the moment.” Desi sighed. She reached out and flicked the bottom of one of his feet. “For now we wait and see. If he doesn’t show up in a day or two, we’ll move on to Plan B.”

“Which is what?” He stretched his toes out and flipped one of the books over.

“I don’t know yet.” She righted the book without looking up.

“Why don’t you take a break?” Edmund tried to push more of her books across the floor with his feet.

“I’ll rest when I’ve got this thing working again.” Desi ran a hand through her braids, pulling on a few to wake herself up. She grabbed a couple references she no longer needed and held them out, ignoring the dark look Edmund shot her way. “Be a dear, and put these away for me?” 

*****

Puck:

Back out on the street, Puck soon put several blocks between himself and the Spire, barely remembering to salute a superior officer he passed along the way. Slowing down to get his bearings, Puck took a sharp left onto the next street, letting his memory lead him to the nearest public transport station. He would have to take the train to reach the suburb of the city inhabited by the Intells. The Village.

At the station, Puck found the line for the train that would pass through the Village, and waited. He no longer felt the strangled sensation from before, couldn’t even remember the last time anything like that had happened to him. The train arrived and Puck slipped through the automatic doors. He earned himself several stares from the other passengers as they noticed the presence of a black-uniformed soldier on their train. This was a Citizen train, a soldier like Puck was a rare sight. The military had their own lines, but none of those went to the Village. He leaned into a window as the doors closed, allowing the rocking motion of the train to calm him.

It took nearly thirty minutes to reach the station located on the edge of the Intell community. Puck was the only passenger to disembark. He strode off the platform and into the collection of low brick buildings that made up the Village.

Puck had never been to this part of the city before. He’d seen it in passing on the trains, or from overhead while on board The Titan, but had never actually walked down these streets. The atmosphere felt lighter, somehow. Potted flowers and other plants lined window boxes, while brightly colored clothes fluttered from drying lines strung between the residential buildings. He soon reached a small square where a few families were gathered. A young girl ran up to him, her flying auburn pigtails still in motion after she’d stopped.

“Hello!” She chirped, extending her hand up to him.

“Hello…” Puck carefully reached down and clasped hands with the child. She giggled and pushed their joined hands down once as Desi had the day before.

“You’re a soldier!”

“I am.” He nodded.

One of the adults saw him talking to the child and waved a hand to alert the others.

“Why are you here?” The girl’s frank nature amused him. “Soldiers never come here.”

“Can I help you?” An older man who was easily in his sixties, his long grey braids held back with a cord, approached and laid a wrinkled hand on the child’s head.

“He’s a soldier!” She said again.

“I am aware.” The elder’s face remained passive, but his dark brown eyes were shrewd as he took in Puck’s uniform.

“I’m looking for Artemis. Desdemona's father?” Puck said, remembering the instructions Desi had given him. “I have something for him.”

The elder rubbed his chin, considering for a moment before pointing to the far side of the square. “Four blocks down that street, on the left you’ll see a home with a white door. Artemis is there.” 

“Thank you.” Puck nodded respectfully to the man before waving goodbye to the little girl. She gave him a gap-toothed smile. He grinned back and walked down the street the elder had shown him. The other Intell adults watched him silently, Puck could feel their gazes on his back even after he’d left the square.

The white door came quickly into view. There was no screen or scanner on the outside, no way for him to show his badge and announce his presence. Puck found himself stumped until he noticed the thin cord connected to a metal bell that was hung several feet above the door frame. He pulled the rope and the bell clanged loudly. Footsteps approached from inside the dwelling, and a tall Intell man opened the door. Puck tilted his head back to meet his gaze, and found himself staring at the same blue eyes that had shocked him when he first met Desi.

“Hello! You must be Commander Puck.” The man said.

“What? I mean, yes, yes I am.”

“Wonderful! My name is Artemis. Desi told me you would be coming, although I admit I wasn’t expecting you quite so soon.”

The door was held open and Puck stepped into his first Intell home. It was dimly lit by a few wall lamps and the light streaming in through the open windows. A soft breeze fluttered the sheer curtains, the cross breeze helping to cool the dwelling in the heat of the day.

“I take it you were able to secure a copy of the mission footage?” Artemis led the way upstairs, stooping to fit his frame in the stairwell.

“Yes.” Puck’s gaze wandered to the dozens of paintings and sculptures lining the walls. After spending most of his life in the cool grey interior of the Spire, then the barren walls of the military barracks, it was almost too much. Too much color, too much visual stimulation for him to take in at once. They reached the third floor landing, and Artemis knocked on a wide door.

“Desi? Commander Puck is here.”

“Already?” Came Desi's surprised voice from inside the room before the door flew open.

“Hi.” Desi’s braids were falling wildly around her shoulders. Her clothes were rumpled and there were dark circles beneath her eyes. She appeared to have been up all night.

“Please, come in. Mind the mess.” Artemis led the way, ducking his head again to fit through the door. Puck barely acknowledged the numerous electronic parts littering the floor of the office. He did note with some admiration the computer setup the Intells had built for themselves. A panel was pulled back from the base of the mainframe, multicolored wires spilling out of the opening and onto the floor. Apparently Desi had been tinkering with it.

“I’m surprised you were able to get the data so quickly,” Desi said as she screwed the cover back on.

“It was really no trouble.” Puck said, holding out the memory card. She plucked the slim piece of plastic from his hand; the tips of her fingers brushed palm.

“Thank you.” She smiled. “Were you able to find out why the data wasn’t automatically sent to us?”

Puck shook his head. “I didn’t think to ask, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Maybe Edmund can check the code and figure it out.” Desi powered the console back up and inserted the memory card into a slot at the base of the screen. A window appeared, with the pictures of the graveyard before, during, and after Puck’s squad treated it.

“Oh…” Desi paused. “We usually only get photos of the sites before and after Reclamation, not during.”

Desi scrolled quickly through the mission photographs, stopping every so often to examine more closely what the Grave Diggers had done.

Her brow creased. “This is…enlightening.”

Artemis placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I think it would be best to share only the beginning pictures of the site with the others.”

“I agree.” She said.

Puck cleared his throat, unsure if he was still welcome. It never occurred to him that the Intells weren’t privy to how the mission sites were treated, he'd assumed the squad's methods were common knowledge. 

Artemis spoke, as if he'd read Puck's mind. “Don’t worry, we've been educated on the methods the military uses. It’s just another thing to actually see them in action, as it were.”

“I understand.” said Puck.

“Come on.” Desi stood and waved for Puck to follow. “Since you’re here, I’ll show you around. Edmund can work on adding the photos to the database, he needs the practice.”

Puck excused himself to Desi’s father before moving to catch up with her. She’d waited for him on the stairwell. They walked down to the second floor, bypassed a few bedrooms, and stopped at a door with a small keypad above the knob. Puck averted his eyes while Desi typed a long code into the door. A series of dull clicks followed as bolts and tumblers slid into place.

“This is our private collection. I wanted to you to see it, so you could have a better idea of why we do what we do.” She flicked several switches on the wall, flooding the windowless room with light.

Puck stood rooted in the doorway, eyes straining as he tried to take everything in at once.

The entire room was lined with glass-fronted cabinets of varying sizes. Some reached all the way to the ceiling, others were small enough to house only one or two shelves. Organized in some method unknown to him, they were filled with all of the artifacts Desi’s family had been collecting.  

He saw cabinets stuffed to bursting with books and old electronics, and shelves lined with odd, colorful figurines that he guessed were pre-Quake children’s toys. None of these things were familiar to Puck. He knelt down to get a closer look, peering at a multicolored cube next to a tall figurine of a man dressed in pre-Quake military fatigues. Why would children need a toy dressed like a soldier?

On and on it went.

Puck felt a touch on his arm and realized Desi was pulling him farther into the room.

He turned slowly, murmuring to himself. “This is incredible.”

Then he saw it. A pre-Quake firearm, all dull metal with a faded wooden grip. Puck moved closer to examine it. He had only seen guns in his history lessons. Firearms were now forbidden within the Nation. Not even the military carried them. Any that were collected by the Council had been destroyed, their parts melted down and used for materials to rebuild the city.

“Are you allowed to have these?” He asked, not missing the way Desi’s brow arched at his use of the word ‘allowed’.

“There’s no law saying we shouldn’t have these artifacts.” Desi said. “Only that we can’t use them.”

“A loophole.” Puck moved on to the next case. The top shelf of this one actually held a few things Puck recognized: A stone cross mounted onto a flat base; A six-pointed star medallion hanging from a thin chain; A small painting of a blue-skinned woman with many arms and a circle of severed heads around her neck; A copper-plated crescent moon with a small star fixed at its top point, now greened with age. He had seen all of these symbols in one form or another, just before they were beaten apart with ion-hammers and melted down by flame throwers. 

Below the other artifacts lining the shelves, someone had painted into the wood backing of the cabinet:

MAN IS WHAT HE BELIEVES

 Puck’s throat tightened and he looked away.

“Are you all right?” Desi asked.

“I’m fine. I don’t understand a lot of this.”

She snorted. “Of course you don’t. They don’t teach much about pre-Quake culture in the Council schools, do they?”

“We learned enough about the pre-Quake people.” Puck said. “How they squandered the land they had before most of it was ruined. How they were self-centered and irrational. How—”

She laughed. Actually laughed at him.

The sound surprised him. Her impossibly blue eyes twinkled. Puck wanted to leave, but he couldn’t make himself walk away.

“Of course they taught you how bad things were after the Quake hit.” Desi sighed. “What they didn’t teach you was all of the amazing things those people accomplished.” She swept her arm around the room. “Just look at all of this, how rich and varied their beliefs were. What little we’ve collected isn’t even a fraction of what existed before the Quake. What sort of culture do we have now? Only that the Council will tell us what to think and how to feel and what to do with our lives? Where is our sense of identity?”

Puck couldn't answer her. No one who grew up in the Spire dared to ask such questions.

Desi wasn’t letting up. “Think about it. We’re told there are other surviving people on the remaining continents of the world, but in over a hundred years we’ve never tried to communicate or share our experiences with them. We’re told they exist, but we have no interaction with them. Haven’t you ever wondered why that is?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Exactly! But you did question something when you volunteered to be a soldier rather than apprentice on the Council. Right?”

Puck struggled to keep his expression neutral. “That was different.”

“How so?”

“Because it just is, I don’t know!” He raked a hand through his hair. “It wasn't a question so much as the thought of being stuck in the Spire for the rest of my life made me want to throw myself from the top of it. My only way out was to volunteer for the army. Never did I think my father would have me consigned to the Grave Diggers as punishment, but he did, and whether you like it or not I’m good at what I do! I don’t need some nosy Intell trying to convince me otherwise.”

Puck’s stood toe-to-to with Desi, meeting the same fierce glare he’d encountered the day before. Only this time those eyes weren’t captivating him so much as sending him into a realm of frustration he hadn’t felt since he’d left home.

“I should go. You have your data from the mission, I trust that was all you needed.”

“Of course.” She opened the door. “I’m sure you have more important duties to attend to.”  

Puck squared his shoulders and marched out of the room. Without looking back he strode down the stairs and barely missed bowling over Desi’s cousin on the ground floor. The gangly boy pressed back against the wall, giving the soldier plenty of room to pass. Puck shut the front door behind himself and set a quick pace out of the Village. His mind twisted over the questions the Intell girl had thrown at him.

Puck wasn’t sure what bothered him more: That he couldn’t give a satisfactory answer to any of Desi’s questions, or that he’d never had those thoughts on his own before now.

*****

TBC...

 

For those who are curious, the quote "Man is what he believes." is attributed to Anton Chekhov. 

© Courtney Carter, http://writingdeskblog.blogspot.com, 2018