Chapter 8
Rowan invited Smith to spend the afternoon with her, hiking some of the woodlands outside the domes of Paradigm. After some consideration (and the promise of lovely scenery and a picnic lunch) he agreed. They stopped by his place so he could change into appropriate clothing and pick up his sketch pad and colored chalks.
Daestar drove northeast out of the domed city and across the Hudson, then took a north-bound narrow road running parallel to the the river. The gently rolling terrain gradually rose and toughened. Soon they were in a rocky area with ancient granite boulders (split into pieces by weather or war) strewn across the landscape.
After a while, the young woman pulled the car over by the roadside and parked. She got her knapsack and Roger's art supplies out of the trunk.
The forest she led him through was a thick mix of mostly oak, pine, and blooming laurel, interrupted by rocky outcroppings and small clearings bright with wildflowers. A large shady opening appeared in the woods before them. Roger could see the pink and grey quartz cliffs looming over the opposite side of the Hudson River. He walked to the edge of the mountain. The view in every direction was spectacular. Looking south, one could see all of Paradigm, the great domes gleaming gold against the perpetually sullen sky. Looking north, the river's silvery curves emphasized the height of the great vertical stone walls, all apparently untouched by any human presence.
Roger Smith found it breathtaking. He immediately took out his drawing pad and started sketching bits of the landscape before him. Rowan looked over his shoulder...he was quite good drawing straight from nature. "How did you ever find this place?" the young man asked, smearing his chalk to catch some shadows.
"I used to live here," her laconic answer.
He put down the chalk. There's no place here to live, he thought. "You mean some town near here, right?"
"No," she said. "Would you like to see?" Daestar started down a scarcely visible path through some tall grass. Roger jumped up before she disappeared from view and hurried after her. "Be careful here," her sweetly-accented voice drifted up. "Some of the rocks underfoot are loose."
The old trail worked its way down the cliff face, finally broadening into a grassy area in front of a vine-covered cave. Roger found the young woman sitting at the outermost ledge, her jean-covered legs dangling over the river. She was tossing pebbles into the watery abyss below.
It was beautiful but desolate. There was something odd about the way things sounded too. It was very easy to pick out the direction of any noise. Roger figured it had something to do with the shape and distance of the cliff wall, and the way some parts were heavily overgrown while other sections were bare stone. It would be a good place to hide, but still...he found it a little hard to believe. A city boy, he couldn't imagine surviving in a place like this and he told her so: "How could you possibly manage? There's nothing here. When did you do this?"
Rowan kept tossing pebbles as she replied. "After my folks died, I lived here alone for almost two years before I got caught." She got up and entered the cave with Roger, curious, following her. Rowan scraped off some of the moss growing on the side of the cave. "Here's my proof." She pointed to a mark on the wall. Smith used a flashlight to see it better.
It was clearly a child's handprint, a smaller version of the square palm and long fingers he was so familiar with. The initials "R-D" were carefully printed below it in a childish scrawl.
"How old were you?" he asked. Stupid question, Roger, he thought to himself, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. The idea of a child out here alone was too disturbing.
"Twelve," she answered. "I marked this just before they came for me. I knew they had found me. I could hear them coming, and I assumed they were going to kill me too...I just wanted to leave something behind to prove I once existed."
Daestar gracefullly sat down on the cool dirt floor of the cave. She slipped her knapsack off, antd stretched the muscles in her shoulders. "It's funny, you know. I can remember my life before they grabbed me; I can remember my life after Dan got me out. The two years in between are pretty much gone...all that's left is a handful of impressions. There was a big building and red lights. Our heads were shaved, to prevent lice, I guess. I remember an awful lot of other kids, but I wasn't allowed to mix with them. I remember someone saying I was too old or independent for them. The others had been there a long time, years maybe - even though we were all about the same age." She paused, wondeering if Roger had been through any of this. "Roger, how much of your past do you remember? I mean really remember, with feelings?"
Roger stood there, looking slightly stricken, but Rowan couldn't see his face in the dim light. He could remember entering the Police Academy, how excited he had been at being accepted. He could remember everything since then...but before?
Rowan's gently accented voice continued in the darkness: "Did you have brothers or sisters, Roger? Do you know your parents' names? Where did you grow up?"
"I don't know" he whispered. His heart started pounding. He didn't want to talk about this anymore. Roger suddenenly got light-headed. He steadied himself against the rough cave wall. Why was Rowan asking him all these questions? This was none of her business. He got angry. How dare she interrogate him! - his mind abruptly shut off, filled with a blinding red fury. Unthinking, he launched himself at her, knocking her over. His large hands were around her throat.
Ro was shocked but kept her wits about her. She managed to tuck her legs under Roger's belly and throw him off. He fell backwards heavily, the wind knocked out of him. Daestar leaped to her feet, prepared to defend herself. She realized something deep had been triggered in Roger, that he wasn't responsible for this, but she had no intention of letting him injure or kill her.
She waited for what felt like hours (though it was only moments) to see what he would do next. He remained supine in the dirt, his breathing normal. Ro approached him cautiously, shining the flashlight on him. His face was ashy, and he was sweating profusely. His eyes were closed.
She nudged his side lightly with her foot. "Roger?" No response. She kneeled down, checked the back of his head for blood - nothing. Fortunately he'd landed on soft earth instead of a rock. Rowan pulled a canteen out of her knapsack and poured some water over Roger's face.
The young man sputtered, coughed, tried to sit up but couldn't quite til Daestar took his arm. "What happened?" he asked, confused. "How did I get on the ground?" He looked at Rowan. In the dim light he could just make out that she was smeared with dirt, her clothes disheveled.
"You don't remember?" Rowan spoke quietly; she had no desire to agitate him again.
"No, I don't." He shifted, winced, and placed one of his hands on his stomach. "I feel like I got kicked by a horse...Ro, what the hell happened?"
"Umm, that was me, Roger." She told him what happened, omitting the original questions. Smith couldn't believe he had tried to throttle her until she shone the flashlight on her neck. Roger's bruising fingerprints were clearly visible, already purpling the white skin.
"Oh my god, Rowan - I'm so sorry! I swear I didn't know what I was doing. Can you ever trust me again?" What if I had killed her? he thought. How could I live with myself?
"I think..." Daestar bit her lip "...I think we were both messed with as kids. I think..." she gave Roger a hand as he stood up, "we were lab rats. Maybe we're still lab rats." She touched his stomach gingerly. "That's going to bruise badly too. Sorry."
They stumbled out of the cave, blinking in the cold grey light. Roger pulled his shirt up to inspect the damage. There were two red shoeprints marring the muscled perfection of his abs. Yikes! he thought, was that a lucky shot! Ro smiled ruefully as if she could read his mind: "Sweetheart, in the future, if you ever feel like doing a little sparring, let me know first please. Dan made sure I learned how to defend myself."
The pair climbed back up the cliff face and looked out again at the magnificence spread out before them. The lights of Paradigm began to twinkle as dusk approached. Roger put his arm around his companion. To his relief she didn't stiffen at his touch, but relaxed against him instead. "Rowan," he said earnestly, "I don't know how how, but I swear I'll make this up to you. This wasn't normal, this wasn't me."
She nuzzled her face against his. "Roger, we don't live in normal times. We don't know the past anymore than we know the future. All we have is now."
As if to punctuate her words, a portion of one of the smaller domes before them collapsed, sending a puff of smoke and debris high in the air over Paradigm. Something huge, half obscured by dust clouds, seemed to be moving through the opening.
"Did you see that?!" they exclaimed simultaneously. Roger grabbed a pair of binoculars he'd left by his drawing pad. He focused on the dark shadow, trying to a get a glimpse of...of a horror from the past. He whistled tonelessly.
"Roger, what is it? Does it look like a bomb went off?"
"No, it's worse." Roger could hardly believe his eyes. "It's a Megadeus."
"A Megadeus?...but that's not possible! No one knows how to pilot them anymore - why would anyone even want to?"
"I don't know." Roger finally got a clear view of the thing. Watching it produced the strangest feeling in him, as if he somehow connected with it. He shoved the sensation away. He'd had enough self-discovery for today. He concentrated on the scene unfolding before him.
The Megadeus was in pretty bad shape. It was rusty and battered, looking like it had been buried for decades. One arm was missng too.It was smashing its way backwards through the city, retreating towards the river. The faint sound of distant explosions finally reached them.
"We have to go back, Roger. We have to help."
"How? You can't negotiate with something like that. You need heavy artillery. The Military Police will handle it"...I hope, he thought grimly. Domestic terrorists weren't bad enough, someone had to dig up one of these things. Damn the past and all its secrets! Roger scowled, watching the tanks force the ancient combat robot twards the muddy banks.
At the very edge, it stopped its withdrawal. Dented armor plating on its chest moved, revealing missile chambers hidden beneath. "Oh no," groaned Roger. Rowan had her hands over her mouth, as if trying to smother a silent scream. Smith changed the binoculars' focus for a closer look. All the chambers were empty. The monster wasn't armed.
The tanks formed a semi-circle and started blasting at the top half of the great machine. At least one of their small stinger-type missiles hit something vital. There was a huge explosion vaporizing the top half of the Megadeus. The legs staggered, then fell into the river and sank.
"We better go back," said Rowan. "We're both going to be needed." Roger nodded grimly. They gathered their things and headed back to the city of amnesia.
Rowan invited Smith to spend the afternoon with her, hiking some of the woodlands outside the domes of Paradigm. After some consideration (and the promise of lovely scenery and a picnic lunch) he agreed. They stopped by his place so he could change into appropriate clothing and pick up his sketch pad and colored chalks.
Daestar drove northeast out of the domed city and across the Hudson, then took a north-bound narrow road running parallel to the the river. The gently rolling terrain gradually rose and toughened. Soon they were in a rocky area with ancient granite boulders (split into pieces by weather or war) strewn across the landscape.
After a while, the young woman pulled the car over by the roadside and parked. She got her knapsack and Roger's art supplies out of the trunk.
The forest she led him through was a thick mix of mostly oak, pine, and blooming laurel, interrupted by rocky outcroppings and small clearings bright with wildflowers. A large shady opening appeared in the woods before them. Roger could see the pink and grey quartz cliffs looming over the opposite side of the Hudson River. He walked to the edge of the mountain. The view in every direction was spectacular. Looking south, one could see all of Paradigm, the great domes gleaming gold against the perpetually sullen sky. Looking north, the river's silvery curves emphasized the height of the great vertical stone walls, all apparently untouched by any human presence.
Roger Smith found it breathtaking. He immediately took out his drawing pad and started sketching bits of the landscape before him. Rowan looked over his shoulder...he was quite good drawing straight from nature. "How did you ever find this place?" the young man asked, smearing his chalk to catch some shadows.
"I used to live here," her laconic answer.
He put down the chalk. There's no place here to live, he thought. "You mean some town near here, right?"
"No," she said. "Would you like to see?" Daestar started down a scarcely visible path through some tall grass. Roger jumped up before she disappeared from view and hurried after her. "Be careful here," her sweetly-accented voice drifted up. "Some of the rocks underfoot are loose."
The old trail worked its way down the cliff face, finally broadening into a grassy area in front of a vine-covered cave. Roger found the young woman sitting at the outermost ledge, her jean-covered legs dangling over the river. She was tossing pebbles into the watery abyss below.
It was beautiful but desolate. There was something odd about the way things sounded too. It was very easy to pick out the direction of any noise. Roger figured it had something to do with the shape and distance of the cliff wall, and the way some parts were heavily overgrown while other sections were bare stone. It would be a good place to hide, but still...he found it a little hard to believe. A city boy, he couldn't imagine surviving in a place like this and he told her so: "How could you possibly manage? There's nothing here. When did you do this?"
Rowan kept tossing pebbles as she replied. "After my folks died, I lived here alone for almost two years before I got caught." She got up and entered the cave with Roger, curious, following her. Rowan scraped off some of the moss growing on the side of the cave. "Here's my proof." She pointed to a mark on the wall. Smith used a flashlight to see it better.
It was clearly a child's handprint, a smaller version of the square palm and long fingers he was so familiar with. The initials "R-D" were carefully printed below it in a childish scrawl.
"How old were you?" he asked. Stupid question, Roger, he thought to himself, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. The idea of a child out here alone was too disturbing.
"Twelve," she answered. "I marked this just before they came for me. I knew they had found me. I could hear them coming, and I assumed they were going to kill me too...I just wanted to leave something behind to prove I once existed."
Daestar gracefullly sat down on the cool dirt floor of the cave. She slipped her knapsack off, antd stretched the muscles in her shoulders. "It's funny, you know. I can remember my life before they grabbed me; I can remember my life after Dan got me out. The two years in between are pretty much gone...all that's left is a handful of impressions. There was a big building and red lights. Our heads were shaved, to prevent lice, I guess. I remember an awful lot of other kids, but I wasn't allowed to mix with them. I remember someone saying I was too old or independent for them. The others had been there a long time, years maybe - even though we were all about the same age." She paused, wondeering if Roger had been through any of this. "Roger, how much of your past do you remember? I mean really remember, with feelings?"
Roger stood there, looking slightly stricken, but Rowan couldn't see his face in the dim light. He could remember entering the Police Academy, how excited he had been at being accepted. He could remember everything since then...but before?
Rowan's gently accented voice continued in the darkness: "Did you have brothers or sisters, Roger? Do you know your parents' names? Where did you grow up?"
"I don't know" he whispered. His heart started pounding. He didn't want to talk about this anymore. Roger suddenenly got light-headed. He steadied himself against the rough cave wall. Why was Rowan asking him all these questions? This was none of her business. He got angry. How dare she interrogate him! - his mind abruptly shut off, filled with a blinding red fury. Unthinking, he launched himself at her, knocking her over. His large hands were around her throat.
Ro was shocked but kept her wits about her. She managed to tuck her legs under Roger's belly and throw him off. He fell backwards heavily, the wind knocked out of him. Daestar leaped to her feet, prepared to defend herself. She realized something deep had been triggered in Roger, that he wasn't responsible for this, but she had no intention of letting him injure or kill her.
She waited for what felt like hours (though it was only moments) to see what he would do next. He remained supine in the dirt, his breathing normal. Ro approached him cautiously, shining the flashlight on him. His face was ashy, and he was sweating profusely. His eyes were closed.
She nudged his side lightly with her foot. "Roger?" No response. She kneeled down, checked the back of his head for blood - nothing. Fortunately he'd landed on soft earth instead of a rock. Rowan pulled a canteen out of her knapsack and poured some water over Roger's face.
The young man sputtered, coughed, tried to sit up but couldn't quite til Daestar took his arm. "What happened?" he asked, confused. "How did I get on the ground?" He looked at Rowan. In the dim light he could just make out that she was smeared with dirt, her clothes disheveled.
"You don't remember?" Rowan spoke quietly; she had no desire to agitate him again.
"No, I don't." He shifted, winced, and placed one of his hands on his stomach. "I feel like I got kicked by a horse...Ro, what the hell happened?"
"Umm, that was me, Roger." She told him what happened, omitting the original questions. Smith couldn't believe he had tried to throttle her until she shone the flashlight on her neck. Roger's bruising fingerprints were clearly visible, already purpling the white skin.
"Oh my god, Rowan - I'm so sorry! I swear I didn't know what I was doing. Can you ever trust me again?" What if I had killed her? he thought. How could I live with myself?
"I think..." Daestar bit her lip "...I think we were both messed with as kids. I think..." she gave Roger a hand as he stood up, "we were lab rats. Maybe we're still lab rats." She touched his stomach gingerly. "That's going to bruise badly too. Sorry."
They stumbled out of the cave, blinking in the cold grey light. Roger pulled his shirt up to inspect the damage. There were two red shoeprints marring the muscled perfection of his abs. Yikes! he thought, was that a lucky shot! Ro smiled ruefully as if she could read his mind: "Sweetheart, in the future, if you ever feel like doing a little sparring, let me know first please. Dan made sure I learned how to defend myself."
The pair climbed back up the cliff face and looked out again at the magnificence spread out before them. The lights of Paradigm began to twinkle as dusk approached. Roger put his arm around his companion. To his relief she didn't stiffen at his touch, but relaxed against him instead. "Rowan," he said earnestly, "I don't know how how, but I swear I'll make this up to you. This wasn't normal, this wasn't me."
She nuzzled her face against his. "Roger, we don't live in normal times. We don't know the past anymore than we know the future. All we have is now."
As if to punctuate her words, a portion of one of the smaller domes before them collapsed, sending a puff of smoke and debris high in the air over Paradigm. Something huge, half obscured by dust clouds, seemed to be moving through the opening.
"Did you see that?!" they exclaimed simultaneously. Roger grabbed a pair of binoculars he'd left by his drawing pad. He focused on the dark shadow, trying to a get a glimpse of...of a horror from the past. He whistled tonelessly.
"Roger, what is it? Does it look like a bomb went off?"
"No, it's worse." Roger could hardly believe his eyes. "It's a Megadeus."
"A Megadeus?...but that's not possible! No one knows how to pilot them anymore - why would anyone even want to?"
"I don't know." Roger finally got a clear view of the thing. Watching it produced the strangest feeling in him, as if he somehow connected with it. He shoved the sensation away. He'd had enough self-discovery for today. He concentrated on the scene unfolding before him.
The Megadeus was in pretty bad shape. It was rusty and battered, looking like it had been buried for decades. One arm was missng too.It was smashing its way backwards through the city, retreating towards the river. The faint sound of distant explosions finally reached them.
"We have to go back, Roger. We have to help."
"How? You can't negotiate with something like that. You need heavy artillery. The Military Police will handle it"...I hope, he thought grimly. Domestic terrorists weren't bad enough, someone had to dig up one of these things. Damn the past and all its secrets! Roger scowled, watching the tanks force the ancient combat robot twards the muddy banks.
At the very edge, it stopped its withdrawal. Dented armor plating on its chest moved, revealing missile chambers hidden beneath. "Oh no," groaned Roger. Rowan had her hands over her mouth, as if trying to smother a silent scream. Smith changed the binoculars' focus for a closer look. All the chambers were empty. The monster wasn't armed.
The tanks formed a semi-circle and started blasting at the top half of the great machine. At least one of their small stinger-type missiles hit something vital. There was a huge explosion vaporizing the top half of the Megadeus. The legs staggered, then fell into the river and sank.
"We better go back," said Rowan. "We're both going to be needed." Roger nodded grimly. They gathered their things and headed back to the city of amnesia.