Summary: She awakes, shocked by the realm of chaos that is now the Earth. But with the help of the stichpunks, she may be the key to reawakening humanity.
Author's Note: Can you all guess what I'm obsessed with now? _ This was rattling in my head ever since I watched 9. I LOVED IT I SAY. I was so happy that the twins survived, but so sad that 2 and 6 passed on. Now there's only four....well...four and a human now. Enjoy!
PS- I'll be watching Alice in Wonderland this Friday so I'll update Walking Backwards once the weekend's over. I'm staying with my sister!
____
I was dreaming. I didn't know how long I'd been asleep, but I was enjoying myself so I guess it doesn't matter.
I was laying on the picnic blanket, softened by the warm, sweet smelling grass in that field behind our house, wildflowers blooming in the warmth of the summer air. Clouds rolled over my head and I day dreamed them as flying castles and angels, in a drowsy, comfortable spur of imagination. My baby brother Frans, already a toddler with fair hair and chubby, active legs, was waddling around chasing butterflies and pulling up flowers in his usual eager fashion. Grandpa, despite his wish to spend more time with us, was studying and writing in his books, his nose deep in a mechanics manual and bony hands stained with ink from his pen. His discomfort rustled sympathy from me, and I picked up the squealing Frans and set him in my lap.
"Grandpa," I said in worry, "Must you really be pushing yourself so much? Mama always worries about you, you know. She says all this studying and lab work will be the death of you."
The old man sighed, closing his books shut for the moment. He took Frans from me, ruffling his soft head of hair. "Gwampa," Frans cooed in delight, reaching up to grab his fingers. He smiled...Frans' innocence and happiness always had such a charming effect. He situated the little boy in his lap looking out at the peace and beauty of the field.
"Perhaps," he said with a forlorn sigh, "But your father doesn't make enough as a soldier, and your dear mother has her hands full at home. I must take care of you."
"You need to take care of yourself," I insisted, "We've got our whole lives ahead of us...but you're not the young man you used to be. Besides," I said proudly, "I've taken over all the cooking and cleaning at home now, so Mama can have more time to work with the laundering. Frans is learning to collect eggs from the hen house and bring in firewood too. Aren't you darling?" I said, picking up Frans and nuzzling him in the face, making him laugh. I turned solemn however, when I turned back to Grandpa. "But it's so unhealthy...all those dark hours in the lab..."
"I'll be alright." he reassured, patting my hand with his worn, but comforting, hands. "There's life in this old tiger yet. But I'll talk to the Chancellor, see if I can't pull a few strings."
Then he drew me and Frans into a warm hug. It was one of the things Grandpa did best, and Frans sighed in joy as he wrapped his little arms around him as much as he could. I hugged back too, delighting in the safety and comfort of our dear grandfather's embrace, the warmth of the sun in my hair, the sweet scent of grass and flowers, and the sounds of the wind rustling in the trees spotting the field.
"Adele," he sighs, "My dear granddaughter..."
Tomorrow he would be gone. But today there was the promise of a perfect summer afternoon.
_____
In the real world, no wildflowers bloomed. The sun barely peeked out from the dusty clouds, dry grass falling apart in the remants of the field. Everywhere, skeletons and machines lay still, time having worn them useless. Nothing lives anymore.
Nothing....save for the stichpunks.
The four trekked across the barren wasteland. In their quest to revive life, they'd been collecting anything that could live on its own...no machines, but plants, insects, and maybe even animals. They'd had bad luck...the toxic gasses had consumed most of life on Earth, curdling plants into dry, dead compost. The bones of the humans were growing worn and yellowed where they lied, the machines that had destroyed them now rusting away to nothingness. But they'd had some sucess. At the abandoned library they had collected a small family of roaches, a small composition of weeds, a colony of tiny wriggling krill, and amazingly a daisy, small, but blooming. There process was slow, but it was a process.
But now it was time for an investigation. While out searching with his twin, 4 had found the entrance to an abandoned lab, and judging from the comparisons to what was seen in a copy of a newpaper, it was a biological reasearch facility. The glass door was smashed, most likely from the fierce storms that plagued the land, and most of it was underground, the dark hallways still tinged with the lingering scent of bleach and lemon-scented cleaners. The rooms were mostly filled with offices, petri dishes broken and all the reasearch scattered and useless.
However, what attracted the attention of the twins, was the strange iron door at the very end of the hall, and the eerie florescent glow coming from a ventilation shaft. It prompted a proper investigation, 9 and 7 following with packs of matches, scapels, and lights to look into what exactly was going on in the dark, underground labs. He'd given the twins a pair of bells should they be forced to split up...the pair's extrodinary eyes prevented them from being compatible with voiceboxes. The bells would send out a warning, should they encounter a rare danger.
Danger had fortunately become more scarce now...ever since the Brain had been destroyed, the flow of vicious machines had halted, and as the monsters slowly ran out of energy, they ceased to move. The few dangers they encountered now were wind-storms, collapsing buildings, and a few mines scattered across the land, untriggered and waiting for one of them to take a false step.
"Maybe we'll find some more samples here," 9 looked hopefully at the lab. "Show us where you found the vent."
The twins hurried along, 9 and 7 following quickly behind them with a light. They crowded in front of a ventilation shaft, the top grate already rusted off. As the stichpunks looked below, they indeed saw a lime green glow, pouring in through the shaft were a chill wind blew up in their faces, a disused fan blade spinning slowly as the wind from below blew up. Finding a spare extension cord in an abandoned janitor's closet, 7 unfurled the cord until the gentle 'clink' of the metal plug hit the bottom of the shaft. One by one, they climbed down. 3 and 4 halted the fan blade as 7 and 9 worked on unscrewing the grate through the thin openings. The grate finally gave in with a loud 'clang' on the floor.
What they saw exceeded their hopes of samples.
There were hundreds upon thousands of tanks...not filled with liquid, but creatures recognizeable only by what they'd seen in the library books. The chill came from the cryogenic freeze that captured the beings inside as perfect as they were the day they began this long cold sleep. Below, each had dusty nameplates, their species, names, blood type, etc. The stichpunks could only gaze in amazement, the twins eagerly cataloging as fast as they could, scanning through the tubes.
"There must be creatures from nearly every species in here," said 9 in awe, running a hand against the icy cold glass. 7 tried to open one, but it remained firmly shut. She finally gave up upon noticing a lock on the door of the tube.
"But they're all locked," she said in disapointment. "It doesn't do us much good if we can't-"
7 stopped abruptly. The clicking sounds of 3 and 4's cataloging had faded away. 9 quickly caught on, and looked extremely worried.
"Where's 3 and 4?"
_______
"Monsters!"
I tried to rouse myself, but my arms and legs couldn't move. I was barely able to lift my eyelids, lips parted in attempt to draw a breath. A dribble of blood was trickling from a tiny prick on my arm, a needle lying discarded on the ground. I could barely see the shadows of people fighting in the hallway, and I heard the clear, angry voice of my mother.
"You can't do this! She's only 17 for godsakes!"
"There's nothing else we can do! If you care for the welfare for your daughter I suggest you stop this instant-"
"And what about my son?! He's barely four!" she screamed. I could see her tiny, but commanding, form pounding on the chest of a man from the door. I felt numb and frigid, the breath coming from my mouth a visible vapor. I heard the sounds of the bombs rattle the shelter outside. The shouting grew more desperate.
"Call my father! Her grandfather Johannes...he'd object!"
"Dr. Jan is a traitor." a new voice interjected coldly. I felt a shiver pass down my spine as the effects of the drug combined with the terrifying tone of the man. "He's allowed these abominations to roam free, killing every man, woman, and child."
"Shut up!" screeched my mother, "You weren't so objective when you asked for those monsters to be built!"
There was a bang and a hard thump. One shadow, the shadow of a petite woman with short, wavy hair, now laid on the floor. Not even the strongest novacaine could hold back the rattling moan of horror, my eyes widened as I saw the figure of my dear, sweet mother lying forever still on the ground. The room was suddenly filled with people. Another sting indicated that I'd been injected again.
"Take her to the storage," instructed the man, muttering apprehensively. I saw the flash of fire and the stench of smoke from the window. Cries from the suffering people echoed like a gong. I was picked up, the itchy material of a soldier's uniform scratching at my leaden arms. I felt hot tears rolling down my face, praying that poor little Frans, who was so small and innocent, would be alright, and that Papa, out there in the burning city, would come back safe.
"Life must go on..."
______
3 and 4 had wandered away, cataloging everything they laid their eyes on. But now they trembled anxiously, gripping the handles of their rusty scapels should one of the species decide they looked good enough to eat. But as they continued, things grew messier, with piles of clothes, food cans, supplies left scattered, as if they'd been left there in a haste escape. The pods looked cleaner too; they could see the faces more clearly. One held a pair of cats, curled up next to each other as if sleeping. Another held a doe and bambi deer. Finally, the length of creatures stopped at one last container.
It was by far the most recent. Even though it must have been over ten or maybe twenty years, the tank was fairly clear. Inside, a human laid propped up, head tilted slightly. It was a young woman, maybe 17. A dark sheet of hair had fallen a little over her face, peaceful in sleep. An oxygen mask covered her mouth, faint puffs of breath fogging it up, before fading. But what was miraculous about the tank, was the key; still stuck in the keyhole.
The twins followed their curious streak, climbing up the vent by the tube, before balancing on each other's shoulders. As 3 tried to keep his twin on his shoulders, 4 grasped at the key, turning it the other way. The lock finally made an audible 'click', and the twins were blown back by the compressed air blowing them back to the floor. There was a groan from inside, and the girl fell down, barely able to catch herself with her arms as she laid wobbling from the awakening. The oxygen mask had snapped off her face, and hung swinging from the tube.
Very slowly, she opened her eyes.
_____
I'd woken up, in someplace freezing cold. But just as the thought came to my chilled mind, a hot burst of heat eradicated the chill. The hiss of escaped air came forward, and I found myself falling forward! Panic took back some control of my limbs and I was able to halt the fall with my arms, saving myself a very painful concussion. My clothes were worn thin from the ice, but they were the same coat and dress I'd worn before going to sleep. The laces on my boots had shriveled up, brittle and crumbling, but the leather had held out. I wobbled unsteady on my knees as they slowly regained their ability to move. With bleary eyes, I opened myself to my surroundings.
Everything was hazy for a moment, and my eyes ached with effort. But with a few encouraging blinks, things grew clearer. There was the green glow of tubes all around...and before me; amazingly so, there were a pair of twin dolls standing upright before me. A dream perhaps?
"Wh-where...am I?" I rasped out. The little twins leapt back in surprise, holding out a primitive form of spear. No not spear...scapels. Curious...
My arms could move again. I rubbed my eyes, trying to properly gain my bearings. Nothing seemed as it should be. The cold, the tubes, the walking dolls. My dreams...none of them were ever so strange. I took a look at the dolls again.
They were quite small, they could have tickled my shins at their height. Wide lenses served as eyes, their heads covered with little blue hoods. Their hands and feet were sculpted from iron and wood into flexible joints. The rest of them seemed a bit like a beanie doll. On their chests, drawn in ink pen, were the numbers 3 and 4 respectively. 3 seemed a bit shyer than his twin, hiding behind them. Both of them held out their scapels, already beginning to grow encrusted with rust, at me.
Hesitantly, I held out a finger, as if testing. They shrank back, and I took my finger back. A little more gently, I held out my palm.
"Come on," I encouraged softly, getting used to my voice again, "Come on. It's alright." I had experienced such suspicion with little Frans before. Meeting new people for him was usually a slow, difficult procedure. I had to let them come to me first.
Finally, 4 decided to hunch over my fingers, taking it in his tiny hands, eyes flashing. I let him do as he liked, turning it over to show the rest of the peachy skin and fingernails. Boosted by his brother's examination, 3 joined in, and they clicked and flashed over my hands in curiousity...from the even, clean fingernails, to the tiny scar on my wrist from an accident in baby-hood. Feeling a little more secure that they trusted me, I ran a finger gently over their heads, nuzzling the hoods as I would with Frans. Finally, they climbed up into my palm and I let them come up to my face.
"Hello," I said with a smile. They replied with the simple twinkle of their eyes and a series of clicks.