Simoom Rising

Chapter Twenty-five

Pit District, Simoom
Four months ago

HARMONY

"They" timed it perfectly. We were all up at the barricades three days later, me, Bergen, Omari, Sharise, Olafsen, Ng, even Mancy standing in the back, to welcome the New Earth aid workers and observers into the Pit. No one was left in the tunnels and the bunker.

I remember that morning. It was calm. We could see blue sky and feel the sun on our faces. Most of the Pitters stood there up the slope beside the main barricade, surrounded by media drones broadcasting live. Hope warmed our chests. It was almost over. There was a way out. Some of us were not there, of course. Some were too sick or weak to attend. Some had vowed not to be relocated. Some were too filled with rage, and sorrow and stubborn pride. But the vast majority of us, I am sure of it, I felt it, had come around to the idea of relocation—even Sharise and Omari and Ng—even them.

The first batch of medical equipment, food and water promised by WAVE were left just inside the barricades. Together, we moved the stuff to the old aid station half way down the slope. But mostly it was the New Earthers who lugged the containers—I mean how would it look to the media if the they allowed us walking skeletons to do the heavy lifting? I didn't say anything to them—I was thinking about the last time I set foot in the aid station. I was thinking about Sila. Besides, Omari didn't want anyone else to talk for the Pit Co-op Council but him. I thought Mancy would pick a fight over that, but he didn't. Now I think he was trying to stay apart from everything, trying to hide what he had done.

We were at the aid station, setting it up, unpacking supplies, when the wind and dust picked up.

At first, I thought, it was just people's annoyance with the media—we had all, Pitters and aid worker alike, collectively, subconsciously ordered the dust to scatter the drones and disrupt their signals, to get them the hell out of our faces. And I was relieved.

But then I felt something coming; the hope in my gut had been replaced by a dread wiggling like a worm up my spine. Bit by bit, the dust took on a new energy and purpose—I tasted cold fury on my tongue. My eyes and nose began to water. I began shivering. I kept looking around for whatever was coming. It was like being hunted. Only after, did we figure it out. It was the Pit Pats marching through the tunnels and the main bunker—emerging into the Pit behind our backs.

WAVE Orbiting Station
Now

DORIC

"Wait, wait, wait," I cut Harmony off. "I think you're confused. That was afterwards—that company of Pit Pats came into the Pit after the aid workers disappeared."

She shook her head. "No, it was before. I felt them—we all felt them."

"What? How could you feel them—you weren't linked to any of the Pit Pats except for Caraq ...at that point, correct?"

"True, we weren't directly linked," she explained. "But there was something in the feel and weight of the dust, as it settled after having taken out the media drones. It was burdened with thoughts and emotions and became heavier and heavier. It couldn't have been just us and the aid workers. We were weak, starved, some of us barely hanging on to life. And the New Earthers had not been in the Pit long enough for their thoughts to add much weight to the dust. It must have been the Pit Pats sneaking in from behind us as we set up the aid station."

"Are you sure of the timing? It was before the aid workers disappeared? And it was from the tunnels—not through the main gate?" I asked again.

She nodded her head. "I'm quite sure."

I turned to Mac. "Is that true?"

Mac shrugged. "Look, co-ordination and communications is difficult in the Pit in the middle of a dust storm. It's hard to say exactly what the timing was, or what direction people came from."

"Whoa, the debrief says a company of Pit Pats, commanded by you, Lieutenant Anwar MacAndrew, entered the Pit—"

"I know what it says, Girlie, I wrote it."

"Through the main gate to search for the aid workers, two hours after Omari reported them missing. It was only then that the tunnels and bunker were found and eventually searched. So was that all a lie?  You told the VP's office about the tunnels the night before, right?"

Mac snorted. "So? What difference does it make exactly when we knew about the tunnels?"

"Maybe not a lot," I said, conceding the point. "But what about the timing of the Pats' arrival in the Pit? Did you fudge that as well?"

"Two hours, one hour, thirty minutes—who cares? You're missing the point."

"And the point is?"

He roared at me: "The Rats killed those aid workers."

"Yes, we did," Harmony said—we had forgotten to shut off the sound. My heart plummeted. Somehow, I wanted Ann to be entirely blameless.

"So, you admit it at last, Commander Harmony," said Mac into the mic, with a satisfied smirk. "Now, will you admit your personal responsibility in the deaths of the New Earthers?"

"Yes, but will you?"

"What does she mean?" I asked Mac.

"She's talking crap again."

Go on, ask him, Harmony urged me.

"Mac, who ordered you to bring your Pats into the Pit and when?"

Mac shrugged in reply. Just shrugged—that's it.

"And where did you enter?"

He shifted his eyes away from me.

Perhaps no one gave him any orders. Perhaps he went rogue, Harmony's thoughts slithered into my head.

"Now you're going too far, Ann," I said out loud.

"That's it." Mac cut the sound. "Lead Detective MacAndrew terminating the interview at 16:23 hours," he said to WAVE-Sec. "Cut the sound."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm terminating this interrogation."

"But we have until evening—"

"If you say another word, Detective Doric, I'll have the guard march you down to the Wellness Centre for a Psych Evaluation."

"What?"

"You've been talking to her in your head, haven't you? You're clearly compromised. Don't make me report you."

And with that, Mac walked out of the control room.