[Contributor 02] - Infiltrator (2013) (15 page)

“All right. Just be careful, Letizia. You’re not off Andersen’s radar.”

“I never will be, at least not as long as I stay here. And neither will you. That’s why you have to be prepared.”

A reckoning was near, Dara could sense it, but she doubted it was possible to truly be prepared.

“This is the farthest I’ve ever been,” Dara told Ricky, her chauffeur for the day. Traveling from the domes to the various locations where she underwent training was becoming fairly routine, but the wasteland still made her nervous. This trip, several signs had alerted her to the presence of Roots: a small, scrubby patch of what she took to be a garden, surrounded by a row of sharpened wooden stakes; a cluster of rudimentary structures in the distance; a thin plume of smoke rising lazily in the air.

“Enjoying the scenery?” he asked, glancing over at her with a grin.

“Don’t you…I don’t know, get nervous driving all this way?”

“Nah. Driving through it on a regular basis tends to eliminate a lot of the fear factor. Besides, I don’t think the Creators hammer it into us the way they do with you. After all, they need us very valuable Cores to go out into the big, bad wasteland to deliver things and get rid of trash.”

There was no bitterness in his voice, just a trace of humor mixed with matter-of-factness, but she felt chastened. “I’m sorry. It was a stupid thing for me to ask, wasn’t it?”

“It’s okay. There’s a reason why the Creators don’t want us to mingle with the Ballasts. It’s much easier when everyone fits neatly into their own groups, prevents us from thinking too much. Doesn’t prevent the envy, though.”

She studied him out of the corner of her eye. “I hope you won’t be offended by my saying this, but you don’t have much to envy. We have more stuff, extra comforts, but any freedoms we seem to have are illusions.”

“Oh, I know. It’s not a vicious envy anyway, more of an aspirational envy. The Creators want all of us to believe our hard work will lead to rewards and opportunities. Even though, on some level, we understand we’re trapped where we are, we secretly hope to be the exception to the rule.”

Chewing her lip, Dara thought about the truth in what he had said. Had someone asked her how to control a population, she would have said imposing absolute authority was crucial. But she was coming to understand that the Creators excelled at keeping everyone in line because they were masters at using simple misdirection and exerting social pressure. They cultivated the appearance of benevolence and affected parental concern in protecting their charges from the harsh realities of the wasteland. The Cores and Ballasts felt indebted, ensuring their compliance; whereas an overtly oppressive regime would have provided a clear enemy, creating an ideal environment in which to foment rebellion.

She wasn’t foolish enough to think that either the Roots or the Free Thinkers could offer her a glorious bastion of liberty. Life outside the domes was filled with hardships and lacked most of the comforts and conveniences she took for granted, but the knowledge that the Creators weren’t the only ones capable of creating a functional society gave her hope.

“Have you ever met any of the Roots?” she asked.

“A few.”

“What are they like?”

Ricky shrugged. “Like you and me, fighting to survive. There are dangerous characters out here, but I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that’s true in the domes as well. For the most part, the Roots live peacefully enough. Some prefer to strike out on their own, but plenty of others have realized being part of a group offers safety and a better chance at survival. This area, for instance, is run by a chief who was selected by her people. It’s a peaceful zone, and that peace is strictly enforced. The chief has a reputation for convincing violent morons of how seriously she takes her responsibility to her people.”

“Really? Why don’t I see any of them?”

“They don’t come out unless they’re sure they’re safe. This isn’t a high traffic area, but Creator transports are common enough, and the people here are experts at hiding. They’re not afraid to defend themselves, but they’re well aware that challenging the Creators would be suicide, so they don’t draw attention to themselves if they can avoid it.”

A sudden chill made Dara shiver. “Do the Creators ever go after them?”

“Once in a while, if they think the population has risen too much, or if the Roots get too close to the buffer zones around the domes. In general, though, the Creators ignore the Roots. Despite what they tell us, they don’t see the Roots as much of a threat, but they encourage the legends. Superstition kills most dome residents’ desire to test the truth of what the Creators say about the Roots.”

Shaking her head, she admitted, “I’ve always been terrified of being stranded out here. When our transport broke down last year, I was scared to death of what the Roots might do to me and Letizia.”

“Violence was a possibility, but it’s more likely that all they cared about was salvaging anything useful from your transport. They probably would have left the two of you alone. There’s even a slim chance they might have helped you, though kindness toward strangers isn’t the general rule. Still, the Roots take care of their own, and they coexist peacefully enough with the Free Thinkers, sometimes even helping us.”

“I would think they’d be eager to join with the Free Thinkers. It seems like they share a common goal.”

“The Roots are too wary for that. They don’t know what the Free Thinker agenda is any more than they know what the Creators’ agenda is. What they do know is how to make it through a dust storm or a freezing winter, how to defend against roving gangs that want to steal their food and supplies. Ideals are no good to people like that. Not that they would rule out joining a new society, but first they’d need to know it would benefit them.”

“I think I’ve learned more about the Roots in forty minutes with you than I’ve learned in eighteen years.”

“That’s me, a fount of knowledge.” Ricky grinned.

“The world is nothing like I thought it was.”

“Let me tell you something, it’s nothing like the Creators think it is either.”

Gazing out her window at the barren land stretching as far as the eye could see, Dara said thoughtfully, “No, it’s not, is it?”

To her surprise, Raj was leaning against a crumbling steel beam, waiting for her.

“Where are we?” she asked as she waved good-bye to Ricky.

“You’ve had so much going on that I thought you could use a break,” he said. He studied her, looking for signs of stress, ever the doctor, but she had the feeling there was more to it than that. Sometimes she thought she and Raj were closer than she and Jonathan had been. She had begun to doubt that she and Jonathan would ever have been together if not for the illusion in which she had once lived. He was a good guy at heart, but when he’d glimpsed who she was becoming, he had been wary, and she suspected that if he’d had access to her innermost thoughts, he would have been appalled.

Letizia was her friend, but for all they’d been through, there was so much about Letizia she didn’t know.

With Raj, Dara had a strong sense that she saw the person inside, and that he also saw her. He made her feel like she wasn’t alone. On her bad days she was half-convinced that she didn’t really exist. She was no more than a series of characters, all of whom were as insubstantial as smoke, but he drove that feeling away.

He was the only person she had ever known who was exactly what he seemed. Even her parents had hidden things from her, kept secrets. While they had done it out of concern and love, she still felt lost at times, disoriented by being with people she’d thought she’d known, but who now seemed like complete strangers.

Learning about his past had shocked her, but his telling her hadn’t changed what she thought of him. Instead, it had helped her to better understand him and what drove him to endanger his own life. She accepted the things he had done, and she knew his regret was sincere. He’d have to live with his guilt, and she thought that was more punishment than he deserved.

“So no training today? Did Mal authorize this?” she joked.

Raj smiled, making her smile too. It was good to see him so relaxed, after the anguish from which he’d lately suffered. “Consider it a top secret mission. I’ll tell him we were working on your reconnaissance skills.” He gave her a sly wink.

“If we’re not here to train, why are we here?”

“I thought you might like a chance to pay someone a visit.”

“This is it?” she gasped, her eyes snapping to the ruins, searching for the security door. “My mom is here? This is the facility?”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” he said. Taking her arm, he guided her to the door, and when her fingers trembled too violently for her to enter the code, he did it for her.

Like every other Free Thinker facility she’d seen, this one was underground. A long corridor led past a series of checkpoints, which he told her were both points of defense and a means of stalling any invading forces. Fighting past that many barriers would take time, time the inhabitants could use to flee. There was one entrance to the facility, but multiple reinforced exits that could be used in the event of an emergency. Additional security pads protected the exits, the code known only to the facility staff.

Reassuring as it was to know her mother was as safe as the Free Thinkers could make her, it frightened Dara to think such contingencies were necessary. Would the Creators go so far as to strike against a facility like this, if they knew who was inside? But it was a stupid question, she knew that. They had too much to lose should it become common knowledge that such a place existed. No matter what, the Creators couldn’t afford the exposure.

Keeping secrets wasn’t something she was used to doing, and it made her tired. Her entire life the Creators had told her that no one needed to hide anything. Their society was open, free of the crimes committed under the old structures. Everyone was a part of their Creator, everyone pooled resources and shared, so there was no need for secrecy. Having to keep track of all the untruths she’d told, trying not to become tangled in her own web of lies, had become an almost full-time job.

When they made it to the final checkpoint, they had to submit to a bio scan. The Free Thinkers kept detailed records of everyone who came into the building, logging how long they stayed and when they visited. Raj didn’t need to tell Dara this was done as insurance; were the facility to be compromised, the data miners could determine the culprit by compiling the logs and comparing them to their other intelligence.

Cleared by security, they headed into a small reception area, where a smiling woman sat behind a battered desk. Dara’s throat was too dry for her to speak, and Raj asked the woman where they could find Leona.

“She’s in group occupational therapy, learning how to prepare meals,” the woman said.

“Head left, third door on the right?”

“You got it.” The woman’s smile widened. “We’ve missed having you around here, but we appreciate you keeping us busy. We had a record number of patients last month.”

“Just trying to do my part. I’d prefer to spend more time here, prefer it wasn’t necessary for me to bring so many new people to your door.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” Her smile dimmed and she sighed.

“See you later, Shondra.”

“See you, Raj.”

“Why were there record numbers of patients last month?” Dara asked when they were out of Shondra’s earshot.

“There’s been an increase in production at several of the domes, Magnum’s among them.”

“The project?”

“That’s what we think.”

Biting her lip, she tried to push aside her uneasiness. She was doing everything she could, and she would have to make peace with that.

He held the door to the therapy room open for her, and she entered to find a long, rectangular room set up like six small kitchens, exact copies of the kitchen in her apartment. Blinking, she looked around in astonishment. Her eyes landed on her mother, and she let out a sound that was half sigh, half sob. Leona was preparing eggs, her concentration apparent in her wrinkled brow, but she glanced up every so often to smile and chat with the man to her right, who was measuring flour. It had been so long since Dara had seen her mother doing something so normal that she stared in disbelief. Leona’s hair had gone almost entirely gray, and the recovery from her injury had taken its toll on her. Her youthful appearance was gone, but her eyes were clearer, her hair neatly combed and styled, her face more relaxed than Dara had ever seen it.

As if aware of the scrutiny, Leona looked up, her mouth opening in an o of surprise as she took in the sight of her daughter. “Dara?” she asked, sounding as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Mom,” Dara said, taking a hesitant step toward Leona.

Crying out in joy, Leona hurried to her daughter, throwing her arms around her. “I’ve missed you so much!”

Dara was a little embarrassed by the scene they made as they stood there, hugging and crying. The therapist ushered them into a deserted room, where they could talk privately, and Dara didn’t realize Raj wasn’t with them for at least ten minutes. She was too busy staring at her mother in disbelief.

“You look amazing,” she told Leona.

“I look old,” Leona said with a wry twist to her mouth. Her words were careful, and Dara heard how she had to concentrate on her speech, but she was much more coherent than she had been the last time Dara had spoken with her. Raj was right that her mother wasn’t the person she had once been, but her level of improvement was astounding.

“I wish Dad was here,” Dara said, tears flooding her eyes again.

“So do I. I miss Joshua.” It was a relief to hear it. The old Leona wouldn’t have been able to bear being parted from her family, but Dara hadn’t been sure what to expect of her mother now. After the accident, Leona had often seemed disconnected from her husband and daughter, and though she and her father never spoke of it, Dara knew what it would mean to him when she told him what his wife had said. Joshua’s love for Leona hadn’t dimmed one bit in the aftermath of the accident, and the physical distance between them was no deterrent to him.