Synthesia - A Mind for Violence

6 - A Rift Through the Greenhouse

Another explosion shook the ground, chipping away at the great hole in the roof. The young woman felt the shockwaves in her gut. Already excited by the failure to launch and by the news about the boy's foot, which easily spread through the entire building, the developing battle outside did nothing to assuage the prisoners' nerves.

A few captives had heard about a possible attack from loose-lipped agents, and many knew about the Ghosts, but no one could say with certainty if they were being liberated. Maybe a mass slave transfer deal had gone wrong, and the buyers were retaliating.

All of the prisoners had their memories intact, except for the nameless woman. She listened in, carefully consuming the rumors they told each other about the outside world. It might have helped, though it felt as if all the information she heard about the outside world poured into a bottomless ravine. She had no starting point to build a true, living memory and consciousness.

Of all the rumors, the most popular was a simple claim: security forces, like the ones battling outside, were warring in secret to win control of captured slaves. None of the prisoners really believed that particular tale, but then again, none of them had ever been captured and enslaved before either.

Two of their fates were battling each other for supremacy and all they could do was stand and wait as they were increasingly packed in.

As the final waves of prisoners flooded inside, she realized just how many the Ahillana had captured. Outside, she saw many rows of people, thousands perhaps, but here, here were easily tens of thousands. A city of captives taken from wherever, flowers like her, hidden from the outside world.

After a time, the prisoners turned their gaze to a hole in the ceiling where bright white sunrays from the west shone through. The snowfall and the fog had both dissipated a little.

With each passing explosion, the crowd of prisoners grew quieter. The battle wore down on them. To her surprise, some of the prisoners from her transport still carried on the chorus of names. It helped that they were packed alongside even more prisoners and that the agents had all left the building.

"Remember my name?" asked an older man.

"Sanen." Somehow, she remembered his name from before. "It's you. You tried to help the boy who got his leg stuck."

He simply nodded before the two looked down haggardly. An explosion shook the building, shattering some old glass and filling the silence. Noticing that Sanen was strapped to the same bindings as her own, she realized that she hadn't really taken the time to look at who she was attached to.

On her other side, at the end of the line, was Heris, who was focused on the hole in the ceiling like many of the others.

"What were the odds?" she asked herself, imagining that if nothing else happened to them, they would all end up living and working together. Now that their bound line was smaller than before, everyone felt more of a connection—all the prisoners there—though most said little.

The slaves closer to the hole in the ceiling loudened considerably as they piled on top of each other under the sunlight. The young woman struggled to understand why, but then she saw it: it was the cable that Mulgen's pilot hat left behind. It still dangled off the edge, swaying just out of reach.

Many failed attempts to reach the cord came and went before a coherent rally cray formed from the clamor. The prisoners near the gap used the Ahillana's insults against them.

"We are malva." Those under the sun's rays wailed the loudest, but many of the other prisoners beyond, towards the edges of the building and out of sight, looked concerned. Many didn't like what they heard.