A Silence Heard (27 page)

“Do something.”

“Such as?”

She twisted the cuff of his coat. He plucked her frantic fingers away, and she buried her face into his arm.

Hildegunnr went to where the Meeks sat huddled over their comps, tip-tapping fast and furious. She leant close to Deogol and whispered all loudly, “I think it’s time.”

They stopped, just like that, and stood. The brightness in the room diminished for a sec and then all was light again. The two high-up Agros, looked to the ceiling then to the Meeks, and both their faces assumed a look of fear. Edwena gripped Hacket’s wrist so tight, I thought he would yell, but he stayed rigid, almost unaware of her presence.

A silence fell as heavy as a rain-filled thundercloud.

In that quiet I swear I heard my name called. Then a voice within spoke to me. A voice I had denied. A voice I should have heeded but did not because of pride.

I was not the chosen one.

The chosen stood before me.

Humbled, I gave over to the feeling of awe and wonder at the sight of the Meeks standing tall and straight, and unafraid. So, after all my bigging up and what not, it turns out I was merely the switch that turned on the collective power of the Meeks.

Hacket tore the stillness apart. “What have you done?” He stared at Edwina for a sec, as though waking from a dream, then pulled himself free of her clinging fingers. She wiped her brow, folded her arms and lifted her chin to indicate that she was not afraid. But she was, for her lips quivered. Hacket walked towards my bro, his hands clenching as he moved.

Deogol folded his arms. “We’ve given the soldiers the same inside sting that you gave the Meeks to force us to walk in front of our own.”

All purposeful-like he pressed a button on the comp and the giant screen flickered. A wailing, screeching noise came from the comspeaks. I leant forward and saw an image from outside. The entire cloned Agro army lay on the ground clutching their heads in their hands. Some were on all fours puking. Some were sprawled on their backs, foam oozing from their mouths. Some lay sideways all hunched up, arms around legs, rocking and whimpering.

Deogol slammed the comp lid down.

“Talented little wolfbubs, that’s for sure,” Edwena said and gave them a derisive slow-clap.

Despite her plight at being tied and duffed up, Santy Breanna managed to give my bro the most mumsly grin. “There’s my little earwig.”

“It’s, Deogol, Santy.”

“That it is. Clearly your name suits. You are indeed a secretive soul and no mistake.”

“Mebbe, but I, we, did what had to be done the best way for it to succeed. We have won, these Agros have lost.” A smug grin bled across his face.

Edwena snarled and darted towards my bro, but was stopped from proceeding by a rumbling sound at the entrance to the medi-lab. Before she, or anyone could say, “What the huff?” in burst a whole cluster of non-Agro folk brandishing clubs, enemy guns and metal bars. They swarmed into the room, focusing their shouts and yells upon Hacket and Edwena, who clutched onto each other as the mob advanced.

“Do something. You guards, attack!” Hacket cried.

The guards stood still.

The battle weary mass advanced towards the fear-faced Agros, screaming as one, the word, “Kill!”

I thought I recognised Odelia and Audrey amongst the dishevelled folk, but all were so caked in grime and blood, that I could not be sure. They raged towards the Agros and lifted their weapons high. Behind them, the rumble-roar of battle clad Clonies.

Terrifying and huge, masked and growling, they stretched-legged through the mob. Who parted quick at the sight of their tame, fang slavering Wolfies lurching and straining at the leash. The Agros backed away.

My gut tumbled over and I held back a throat sob at the sight of Marcellus’s kin. An ache clenched around my heart and locked in tight a grief-filled sorrow.

My bro raised his arms and shouted above the din, “Calm yourselves. All is under control.”

How old he sounded. How commanding was his voice. My little bro-bro that stood not much higher than my shoulder, was giving orders to one and all. To my wonder and admiration, they did his bidding. The Clonies halted, their wild dogs cringed, and all turned to where he stood with Esme and Elita. Deogol walked towards a towering Clonie, I recognised as Orsin. His Wolfie snarled and raised its hackles. My bro stretched out his hand and let the dowgie sniff his fingers, then stroked its ears. A gasp rang out from one and all. Orsin bent forward and said, “Meek?”

Deogol nodded.

“Safe. Good, we pleased,” the Clonie looked over my bro’s head at Elita and Nuncio. “We see kin alive too, more pleased.”

My bro ceased ear rubbing the feral dowgie, stood straight and looked behind the Clonies vast bod. “Where are the rest of my friends that were forced to stand against you?”

“Some with own folk, some still in silo. We hide them whilst fray took shape.”

“Are they well?”

“As well as can be. Have gone through too much. Have endured too much. Agro army mighty. We near defeated by their force, we ready for death, but in flash they fell to knees, clutching heads.”

Esme, Elita and Deogol high-hand slapped each other and smiled. My bro put his fists on his hips, jutted out his chin and addressed the assembled crowd like a true leader of folk. “We did it. We found a way to control the implants. We tapped into the Agro tech codes. It was easy once we realised their limitations. Binary,” he said and gave forth a mighty roar. “Binary? For real and then some? So ancient. Agro fools.” He laughed again and the girlie Meeks joined in, then they stopped and assumed serious faces. They turned from Orsin and walked over to Hacket and Edwena.

“We can make the soldiers and guards do our bidding now. Just by pressing in some digits on any comp we like. Or, just by thinking them. We have surpassed your primitive tech. In fact, we are now the only tech. Nothing to say to that Agro scum?” Esme said. The two Agros paled. “No? Good.” She snorted and Hacket began to tremble.

Orsin wiped his blood-splattered chin, looked to the insurgents that near filled the room, and coughed all loud to attract he attention of my bro and the other two Meeks. He did it again with more force and contrivance, and they turned to face him. My bro sighed and said, “What?”

“We come to free, we think.”

Hacket went the colour of the ripest tom, burst into the mightiest guffaw and slapped his thighs. “How noble. You are the fools, not us. The Meeks cannot be saved by you or anyone else.”

“What mean filthy Agro?” the Clonie said and walked over to Hacket, tugging his wilder-than-wild dowgie behind him. He looked at Edwena, grabbed his Wolfie by the collar and lifted it towards her face. The thing growled and slavered. Orsin set it back onto the floor. It snarled, bared its teeth and lunged towards the pale-faced fem.

She shrieked and dug her fingernails into Hacket’s arm. The Clonie warrior yanked the creature back. He bent, grabbed the dowgie’s collar and made a gesture to indicate that with one quick unbuckling of its leash, he would allow the ravenous creature to be free.

“Say what mean, or we let beast go,” Orsin said. The Wolfie whined and struggled to attack. Foam oozing from its mighty open jaws.

“Restrain your hideous beast.”

“Only when tell truth.”

Hacket and Edwena jumped when the Wolfie yelped and near broke free. The wide-eyed Agro male held up his hands all shield-like, and said in a shaky voice, “I am being honest with you.”

“What mean?”

“I mean they cannot leave.”

“Liar.” Orsin let the Wolfie go. It leapt towards Edwena and pinned her against the wall with its huge, filthy paws. She threw her arms across her face and blubbed like a bub.

Over her wailings the word, “Liar,” was spoken by other Clonies, by Woodsfolk, by Ladies, by Techs, who all repeated, “Liar!”

Even Wirt, Eadgard, Kendra, and Santy Breanna, stuck to their chairs and bruised, called out with all their lungpower, “Liar!” Despite knowing that Hacket was telling the truth. “Liar!” they said to keep the flame of hate from going out.

The word became a weapon so hard and raspy was it said. The other rebels joined in, until it became a terrifying chant that blasted around the room causing fear to stab into the Agros hearts. “Liar! Liar! Liar!”

The sound grew. Folk began to move. Wolfies howled, and I thought the Agros done for, but my bro stepped forward, raised his hand and said, “Stop!” and just like that, they ceased. “Call off your hound.”

Orsin whistled through his teeth and the drooling dowgie low slunked back to its master. He pushed down on its behind and the animal sat. The huge male turned to Deogol. He stared at him for what seemed to be an age, then said, “This true? Cannot leave?”

“That is what we believe to be true. The Agros told us we are unable to exit the perimeters of this place. If we do, the implants they put into our heads will self-destruct and we will die.”

“We beyond sad at news. We cannot believe. Not true, cannot be,” Orsin said and bent his head. The Wolfie did the same and let out a mournful howl.

Deogol, Elita and Esme glanced at each other, nodded, went quite red and lowered their heads too. I only ever saw my bro flush like that when he told a whopper.

A general murmur swished around the gathered. The Meeks huddled together and Edwena and Hacket dared to snicker. A roar went up. “Ye foul pieces of Carnie leftovers!” From the crowd came a large kilted Woodsmale, Bestanden.

He pushed his way through the mass of perplexed folk, stared at the Meeks for a sec, and then lunged towards Hacket. He gave him a fierce thwap across the chest with his heavy wooden stick and the Agro crumpled to the ground. He raised his weapon and turned towards Edwena. She sidled away and he followed, spit shouting as he walked, “Ye, yer spawn of Aglaeca the devil of the forest, ye cut loose those ye have fettered. Move swiftly and free my kin and their pals, or I wi tear yer flesh from yer bones and pound yer carcass intae dust!” He waved his club at her and she quickly moved.

Edwena walked behind each chair and untied the ropes that bound my friends to them. Once unfettered, Santy, holding her injured arm, ran to my side and pressed my head against her basoomers. “My poor Addy, my sweetie pet.”

On she went, pouring forth all manner of cutey names. If it was not for the fact that my vocal chords were all but severed, I would have screamed at her to stop. When she was done and let go, I gave her a smile. At the sound of gurgling, I glanced around her bod. A nasty sight I saw too. Eadgard had Edwena by the throat, and Kendra was prying away his fingers. She succeeded, but Wirt had to wrap his arms around the fuming Backpacker to keep him from attacking her again.

“Eadgard, my dear, please, no more violence,” Kendra said and closed her hand over his clenched fingers. He stared at her as though from a far away place, then hung his head. She stroked his hair, and when he relaxed, Wirt let go.

Santy stood and went to Deogol. She did not hug him but offered her hand instead. He took it and gave it a mighty shake. “I do not fully understand why you chose to hurt your sister so. But, as I look into your eyes I see no malice or hate, and am even more perplexed.”

My bro let Santy’s hand go and stood tall. “In war what must be done must be done.” He lowered his gaze. “We fight with what we have. We fight to save.”

Santy looked to me and frowned. “My heart is rent to think that you and the other gifted ones cannot go home. Adara cannot speak, but I think if she could, she would say that she failed in her mission.”

Eh? Really? Nad.

Deogol pursed his lips and stared at her. “She did not fail. She sang and activated our dormant neurons. Once she did, we Meeks were able to be as one. A living, organic comp. This she did. Also, my sis found me. Had she not, then we would not be free.”

Wirt slapped his forehead and screwed up his eyes. He poked my bro in the shoulder as if to wake him from a slumber. “Free? How can ye say that? Ye are here forever.”

Deogol gently brushed my battered friend’s fingers away. “Perhaps we are. But what better place for us to be when things begin again.”

With a puffing out of his cheeks, Wirt rolled his eyes and said, “Ye talk big like yer sis.” Then he turned to me and gulped. With a look of such kindness spread across his features, my bestest pal that I thought was lost to me, gave a salute and bowed at my bedridden form. “Adara risked much in the saving of ye all. And though I were vexed wi her at times, I am certain of her worth and loyalty. She would have died to save ye that I do know.”

“I too, Wirt.”

“Then, why did ye take her voice?”

Deogol looked at me and I beckoned him over. He walked all slow-like and stood beside the bed. I stared into his wide-open eyes, and saw beyond his flushed cheeks and quivering mouth. I saw into him. I heard a noise inside my noggin. A high peeping sound, like that of a birdy in spring. Closing my eyes, I let the sound flutter and fly around my skull. Although I did not have Wirt’s talent for naming true, I knew the sweet melody was my bro-bro’s true name. ‘Druce’ the wise one.

Perhaps he could hear what I thought? I felt sure he could for on opening my eyes I saw him nod in recognition of my realising his real moniker. Then he blinked, and held out his slender mitt. “I stole her gift to set her free.”

Was he right? Was I free?

I took his outstretched fingers and pressed them to my lips.

“Wa now?”

Deogol let go my big paws, turned to Bestanden and said, “You must return home and let us try to make things better.”

Huffn’ hell and back bro, I wanted to shout, and then to ask, how do you think you can do that? What with you and them being of a younger than young age and all? An answer to my question came not from Deogol, or the Meeks, but from Hildegunnr. She strode towards my bro, took his hand and held it high into the air. The lights flickered, and I swear at that moment the world took a deeply breath.

I looked to the entrance and saw the rest of the Meeks. They walked into the room arm in arm and stood by my bro. They made a circle around Deogol, Esme, Elita, Cenwig and Hildegunnr, closed their eyes, bowed their heads and knelt upon the floor.