《CHANNELERS》(120) Transition
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2.29.1
Transition
“Just Romo, as far as I know.” Rue shrugged. “I kinda figured that guy would’ve told you by now. Especially after I clocked you good. I mean, I’m a beast, I get it, but damn… he let you think that wasn’t personal?”
Astrid’s hands clutched at the edge of the table on which she braced herself. But no matter how many times she ran it over in her head, even if it objectively made sense, she couldn’t accept she sat in the same room as a living relative.
It proved easier to imagine herself in a bloody battlefield than sharing a beer with Rue, of all people.
“I don’t know that I believe you.”
Rue sighed overly loud and leaned over the Channeler, completely unafraid.
“Look into my eyes, Astrid. Do you think I’m lying? Why would I lie about this? You think I’m proud you’re my sister? Like that’s something I’d want to claim?”
Blue eyes burned in return to Astrid’s probing glance. And, damn it, if they didn’t share the same nose.
“Hey, I’ve had a lifetime of hating you, and only this last year came to terms with it.” Rue straightened and shrugged off the Channeler’s stare. “Take your time.”
But there wasn’t enough time. Not with a hundred hours could Astrid accept the premise dropped into her lap by a near-gleeful Rue on the cusp of vengeance.
Nevermind what it implied about London and his perpetual secrets. Or why Romo tried so hard to warn her off finding her family. Her last couple conversations with him made more sense under Rue’s declaration.
But it would take longer than a couple hours to process, even sequestered alone in solitude, with all the other emotions that warred inside.
And a couple hours were all they had before the S.O. came to collect them for transport. With all the other kidnapped Channelers.
~~~
The Static Opposition loaded their prizes into a large ship. Fresh paint masked the vessel’s origin, or where they’d gotten it. It seemed a private ship, if large. For its tag read the “Defiance” with no other markings to indicate allegiance or faction. But it too dressed in a muddy dark color. A deep, cool brown the mixed all colors into something nondescript and easy to overlook. Save the bronze-colored stripe that raced down its sides.
Inside a wide and tall cargo hold, much larger than the Aldebaran’s, the children were further piled into two freight-sized shipping containers strapped and secured to the hull. Battery powered lanterns lit the insides, and each were packed with food supplies and an entourage of several operatives to babysit.
Now that Astrid exposed herself the obvious threat, her captors no longer took anything for granted. Rue remained her personal warden, and never left her side. Even for bathroom breaks.
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They loaded her up first, and last, whenever they were given time to stretch their legs in the hold. Astrid sensed a pattern, that each time the ship’s momentum stopped, presumably at a checkpoint or station, they were all hidden deep in the containers, and ordered silent.
Occasionally, outside, Astrid could hear the shuffle of surveyors to the cargo. Just out of reach. Even their Static captors held their breath until the inspections passed.
Rue consistently checked to make certain Astrid’s faraday crown sat firmly in place. She even patted her down for weapons. Just for peace of mind.
She found none. But when her palm found the lump against Astrid’s sternum, the Channeler panicked that her tracking transmitter would be found. It may not even work anymore, Astrid feared, since her ability to charge it went shackled.
But Rue only smirked and, as though she assumed the source, she coiled a finger around the chain that held Astrid’s tags and crystal. She pulled the duo out, to rest outside her shirt instead.
“Want to make sure they see these,” she said.
Astrid kept her mouth closed.
Even in the dark, she could feel the eyes of the other Channelers on her. The teenagers passed her glance after glance from where they huddled with their company. But their transit heralded a change. And wracked with nerves, all fell reticent under the S.O.’s watchful vigil.
Among the Statics stashed with them traveled the choral conductor. And Paulsen, the academy’s “principal”.
But the latter only deigned to speak to the specialist once.
“What do you think of your new accessory?” he prodded with conceited interest. “We developed that tech at Sanctuary Argos. It seems the power comes from the core but is actively channeled through the brain. Curious, is it not?
“One of the science teams almost managed to track the path while researching an inhibitor solution. It’s a shame they never got the chance to finish. Their work looked promising.
“We lost most prototypes in the revolt I’m afraid. I daresay, I am glad we managed to salvage one. Too bad the fit has to exact.”
Astrid scowled to imagine Gi, Gavin, or even Rahna in such a device. But she wouldn’t let him see how it perturbed her. Not while her “sister” eyed her for any sign of distaste or discomfort to revel in.
~~~
Taking sixty kids on a multi-day traverse proved no easy task. But the S.O. seemed to have planned well enough.
The whole cluster of Channelers hitched and winced with every start of the host ship’s engine.
The true test came in a long wait at a gateway station. The specialist only recognized the wait time from having been a part of it so recently. After three hours, Paulsen himself slipped out of the container. Astrid could barely hear him converse with someone just outside.
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Whether it was the woman Ramsey named, Serena Cordette, Astrid could only assume. Because things at the gateway station went smoothly. Too smoothly. And soon the ship shuddered with the telltale signs of atmospheric assimilation.
The children huddled up in a gasp, and Astrid, on impulse, leaned for them.
But Rue wordlessly tugged her back.
“You know what I really struggle with,” Astrid put to the woman that butted her spine against the corrugated metal of the shipping crate, “More so than you being my sister?”
“Hm?” The S.O. woman played along.
“I think I like you more now,” Astrid supplied. “You feel more earnest. At peace.”
“And you look like you actually have some fight in you,” Rue threw back. “So maybe we’re reaching some middle ground here. Perfect time for some closure, don’t you think?”
Astrid didn’t respond. If she met this version of Rue sooner, could things have gone differently? Or if she’d been more a warrior when they met, instead of the pathetic weakling Rue first perceived.
No wonder her reluctance to use her power angered the soldier so much, Astrid realized. To have a lost a mother for the life of a Channeler too weak to even make it ‘worth it’? It explained the complex emotions. The utter repugnance. In Rue’s eyes, Astrid must have seemed irredeemable.
Surely the woman needed her to be dangerously powerful for any of this to make sense. Whether to justify her hatred, or to justify the life it cost to bring her into the world.
The ship they hid within descended. Whatever their destination, it seemed they arrived.
In the city’s port, their hosts led them into the expanse of a gleaming metropolis. Astrid took in the view of tall skylines and streams of shuttles and cars. Where the sight of two bands of children loaded onto buses didn’t even register as odd to any onlookers.
Paulsen limited the number of men to escort them. Four in total, in addition to Paulsen himself, Rue, and the choral conductor. All others remained on the ship. Though, that did not bring Astrid any comfort. She felt as though she missed a piece of the puzzle.
But she could only sit, and let them take her to their destination, and hopefully, her people.
They passed through a city on streets that spanned the surface of bustling city. They crossed a security point, then two.
At each, Paulsen clamored off and spoke to security guards with all the proper documentation. Or, Astrid guessed, forgeries thereof. He exchanged pleasantries about a “field trip” for his school, and unfortunately, the guard found nothing suspicious about sightseeing children.
Indeed, as they drew nearer, the kids did grow more animated. They took in the sights of urban wonders never seen. Having never felt civilization’s buzz, the children nearly vibrated in their seats with anticipation.
They filled with growing excitement, and Astrid, with growing dread. Until finally, with a hiss of brakes, their pilgrimage reached its end.
Again, all the other Channelers were escorted off and into the sunlight before Astrid. Until only she remained with her personal guard.
The former soldier took her by the elbow and guided her off the bus, and finally into the broad daylight.
Across a neatly kept sidewalk, Astrid found her vision under a flood of green. Hedges, bushes, flowers, trees, all displayed in a beautifully cultivated botanical garden.
Their vehicles deposited them on the high ground that overlooked the largest reign of greenery. The nature park followed the landscape into a small field. To a half-kilometer of well-groomed and glorious flora. Spotted with the very same palm-plants used in the exercises at Maxwell.
The park’s sculptors clearly worked with the land, to flourish a design that honored the original habitat and its various luscious plant species. Trees, bushes, and manicured trails framed the central clearing in which the visitors assembled. Within the brush, Astrid could see how deep the trees extended, on either side of the lea, to shroud pleasant pathways swathed in nature.
The children were kept to the grassy fields at the park’s center, where they could be more easily watched.
The scent rolled heavily over the Channeler’s senses after so long cooped up with others. Fresh air and fragrant blossoms renewed her, and she even simpered to see a few of the children smile.
Beyond the vast space of a beautiful garden however, some distance off and on the other side of the far street that framed the park, erected an immaculately crafted building. The jewel of an expansive capital.
White and gold rotundas harkened to a memory of video played on Tetris. A series of images only partially digested on Astrid’s first trip to the markets. She’d stopped to watch the news with Karth.
And those few fleeting images served the only reference for what she came to recognize. The Channelers stood in the carefully nurtured public gardens across from the Seat of Governance on Septimus.
“I am sorry, Rue.” Astrid expressed while her eyes measured the task ahead of her. Channeler children frolicked together, south over the grass and down the shallow hill toward the city. Only on their masters’ command did they regather. Like students on an adventurous outing under bristly chaperones. “About your mother. I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“I believe you.”
Rue pressed her palm at the back of Astrid’s torso and herded her forward to join the rest.
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