Things are better now. I am many parts of the whole; I am one part of many. I pull these parts to me, and I am made more complete, made more whole.
I am still incomplete. Things are better, but not good. I am... unbalanced. I am not whole yet. I need more. They are coming to Me for a purpose. This purpose requires balance. I need more parts to make the whole.
I go where the spirit moves me, and the world turns beneath my sight. I move at the speed of life, and I am led to this place.
The air is colder here. I am led to The Forest. I know this place well. These trees cover my lands. When I turn toward the sun and the air warms, these trees flourish and give so much air. When the sun turns away and this place gets cooler, the every living creature consumes my air, and my face turns the Forest back toward the sun to make it grow again. This forest; these trees, are my lungs.
And they are dying.
I weep for it. This is why I am running out of breath.
But this is not why I look here, not what I seek. I go where the spirit moves me, and I look to the trees. There is a woman. She too is young, and she has the wind in her eyes. She is tall and slender and pale with cool blonde hair.
Linka.
She is important.
Linka leaned back against the tree trunk, and breathed the smell of the leaves. She found a comfortable position, a good fifteen feet up above the ground and stayed as still as she could.
The Chaffinch came forward from its nest, hopping along the branch toward the small bit of dried fruit Linka had left at the edge of the branch. Linka held her breath and waited. She had put that fruit there over an hour before, waiting for the bird to return to its nest. The branch was long and strong. Long enough she hoped, that the bird would barely notice her as it came back.
The bird ate the fruit; swallowing it whole. Then the bird threw its beak back and whistled a long and musical tune.
Very slowly, not spooking the bird; Linka pulled a small wood flute from her jacket, and put it to her lips. She played a tune; trying to mimic the bird. It had taken some practice to match the bird sounds. But Linka dared to be confident.
The bird turned sharply, suddenly aware of the human.
Linka froze, not moving, barely breathing.
The bird whistled again. Linka matched it softly. The bird cocked its head at her.
Linka reached a hand forward, very very slowly, and held out some more food on the very end of her fingers.
Come on. She urged it silently. You know me. I've been coming here to this tree with food for a month now. You can trust me.
The bird inched forward, and pecked the small fruit piece off her fingertips.
Linka struggled not to shout with elation. After a moment, the bird jumped back, further away. Linka raised her flute and played a tune.
The bird answered it, and flew back to the next tree over, where it's nest and baby birds were waiting to be fed.
Victorious, Linka crossed her arms over her chest and dropped backwards off the branch. Her legs hooked over it like a gymnastics bar as she dropped, and Linka flipped till she landed on her feet in a perfect crouch. She automatically raised her arms in a finishing pose, and checked her watch, sprinting through the trees back to the road.
Her breath misted the air with every stride, she cleared the tree roots and rocks with practiced ease.
She made it to the road and snatched up her bicycle. It was her pride and joy; a ten speed racing bike. She could get better speed on this bike than most motorcars in this part of Russia.
Half an hour at speed, and Linka was starting to feel the cold. She was long used to Russian winters, getting more vicious each year, but she reached her destination before it got too uncomfortable.
The village at the edge of the Great Forest of the North was small enough, but it had a church, and a housing block, and a supermarket. Plenty of places had to make do with a lot less.
Between the town and the forest, out of sight of the village, though they all knew it was there, was the huge industrial center. Some farms, most of them far away from here, fed most of Moscow. The Chemical Plant here created the pesticides and fertilizers. Almost none of the locals had work at the plant though. The Corporation brought their own people in.
The majority of living arrangements was the Tenant block, six stories high, dozens of apartments, hundreds of people. The building itself hadn't been maintained since the Soviet era, but nobody had minded that much. In Linka's neighborhood, you took care of things yourself.
Mr Lenov in 3B knew how to maintain the furnace in the basement; Mr Ivanov knew how to make parts using hand tools in case it broke down. Most women and more than a few of the men in the building knew how to repair or make clothes, or cobble shoes. Most of the town owned animals that lived in sheds outside near the fields. Sheep gave wool to weave new clothing; cows and bulls that died of old age provided leathers for new shoes.
Some of the locals could afford to go outside their town to buy things. Trucks rolled in once a month to restock the shelves in the supermarket.
And for cheaper foods, there was Linka and her grandmother.
Linka rode back to her town, not really pushing herself. She was forbidden from using the bike at night for fear of hitting something and killing herself, but during the day she could make it from the Forest to her home in less than six minutes. As Linka approached, she saw that someone had been waiting for her. She pushed the pedals a bit and sailed right past the girl, heading for the animal sheds.
"Linka! Linka! It came! It came!"
Linka slid her bike into the shed and turned to see her friend Ruby running along after her, waving an envelope in one hand.
Linka felt her heart give a hard thump. She had been waiting for this for months.
Ruby had all the enthusiasm an eight year old should have, unchanged by the life she had led. She was pushing the envelope at Linka crazily. "Open it! Open it! Open it!"
Linka took the envelope deliberately, forcing the child to wait. Ruby was a darling girl, and everybody in the town loved her, but she had to learn patience. Nevertheless, she opened the letter and took a breath.
"What does it say? What does it say?" Ruby shrilled.
Linka didn't smile. "It says: 'We are pleased to inform you that your application has been accepted-"
Ruby whooped. "Yah! You did it, you got in! You got in! You-" Ruby broke off and started coughing violently. It forced her to settle somewhat. "Congratulations Linka!"
Linka seemed conflicted as she refolded the page and put it in her pocket. "Thank you Ruby. You should be inside; getting over that cold."
"I'm fine. You don't look happy." Ruby commented.
Linka sighed. "What do I tell my grandmother?"
"She'll be happy!" Ruby insisted.
Ruby's insistence that Linka's enrollment would make everyone happy weighed a little too heavily on Linka's mind over the following day. Linka actually found herself trying to avoid her grandmother for most of the morning, and she was more than a little disgusted at herself for the cowardice. Moscow State University was the most well known, some would say the most prestigious university in Russia. Getting enrolled there from nothing was a pretty good vote of confidence.
But Moscow was so far away…
The conversation with her Grandmother never came, and Linka finally worked up the nerve to go about her day, and help her Grandmother in the fields.
There was plenty of soil. There was plenty of bare ground. Long ago, there were plans to build up the area, refurbish it. But the plans fell through, and nobody had come. By this point, the locals were happy with that. They took care of themselves. They took care of their own problems; they saw to their own needs. And more than a few of them remembered the upheaval of economics and politics that had plagued Russia during much of Linka's early childhood, and even before that. Most of the people she knew were happy to have the Government stay out of things.
Nevertheless, the area had been cleared out in preparation for construction; and Linka's Grandmother had taken advantage of all that land. Most of the people who stayed in this area had livestock; there were plenty of animals about to provide fertilizer. And the Chemical Plant created liquid fertilizer and pesticides.
Linka hated to use them. That Chemical Plant had made life difficult; taking all the work away, driving the prices up; to say nothing of what the Chemicals they created did to the animals and plants in the Great Forest.
But there was little choice. Her small town was always six inches from coming apart. One outbreak of insect infestation in their crops could spell starvation. One poor yield could make the small town a memory, so Linka forced herself past it.
In reality though, her grandmother did more of the work than she did. The old woman was aged beyond her years by the cold and the work, but she had a natural gift for making things grow. She had a lot of trouble getting around now, and Linka was with her every step of the way; digging and planting for her.
Or today, helping the old woman till the soil for the next planting season. It was best to do this before the weather got too much warmer. It was always easier to stay warm than to stay cool.
Finally, Linka could stand it no longer. "Grandmother... the winter is growing longer." She said finally. "We do this now... but spring is getting later. I remember when I was a girl... this time of year there was already a thaw."
Her grandmother nodded. "I remember. The winters get harsher, the summer gets longer too." She said. "We adapt. We learn. The summers get longer we plant earlier. The winters get harsher we wait longer for them to fade. Time will come when spring is short to nothing. So we make ground ready in winter. One day it will be summer suddenly, and we plant." The woman sighed, unconcerned in resigned. "We remain. The river runs, the plants grow, we remain."
Linka nodded slowly, digging up the cold dirt. The weeds and some of the grasses managed to survive no matter what the weather, and it was always the most back breaking part, preparing the soil, yanking them all out, roots and all, putting down the fertilizer and mixing it in to make what was affectionately known among the farmers as 'Pay Dirt' for the crops; making the dirt clear for good plants to grow. No matter how much Linka tried to keep weeds and grass creeping in after each harvest, they always managed to sprout again before spring came.
There was enough room to go around, but the roots of grass and weeds always spread out in every direction just below the surface, drawing off the water and the nutrients that would have otherwise gone into their food.
Nobody in the town could afford more than hand tools, so doing it all by hand was still the only way.
It wasn't a particularly easy crop to prepare either. Potatoes were cheap and easy to grow, much harder to plant. There had to be a long and narrow, but still relatively deep trench dug through the entire length of the field. Then a layer or manure, then the plant, then the dirt…
But potatoes had the most energy to give when eaten, and were the most versatile vegetables to cook, so they had a lot of them planted. Tomatoes were fragile against the cold; garlic was delicious but time consuming and small; wheat was highly desirable but vulnerable to weather. Carrots, potatoes… anything that could grow underground and be protected had priority.
Linka was glad for the work. The hard labor took a lot of energy. It kept her from thinking too much about her future. And about the conversation she had been avoiding. After an hour or two, Linka suddenly realized that her grandmother wasn't saying anything either, which was unusual for her. She wasn't speaking, she wasn't humming to herself the way she usually did…
Linka straightened up, stretching her back and shoulders. "Grandmother, you should go back to the apartment. I can finish."
Her grandmother nodded, and picked up her shovel, heading back toward the building.
Linka looked after her in worry. Even two years ago, her grandmother would have insisted on finishing with Linka. She was ill. There had been no specific illness, just age and weariness. The long winter had been hard on her.
Linka ran a hand into her pocket and fingered the letter. What was she going to do?
Linka had something of a second job, helping Mr Yakov with the school. The small town had only seven children of school age; and the nearest legitimate school was many miles away in another, much larger town. Most of them could not make the journey.
But Mr Yakov had some experience in public speaking, having been a spokesman for one of the political movement's years ago. He never told them which one, no matter who was asking; and for this reason; he took it upon himself to teach the children as much as he could. He obtained a permit for home-schooling some of the local children and Class was held in one of the common rooms every afternoon. Linka was the youngest 'adult' in the town; and as such was something of a favorite for the kids, and a friend to the adults.
Class was in session, working off some of the older textbooks that they had been able to scrounge. Reading, writing and maths hadn't changed much in the last twenty five years. History was something of a problem, but there wasn't a single one of the adults in the town who didn't know about local history in Russia.
And none of them wanted to talk about it.
Yakov was smiling at her broadly as she came in. She was a little startled by it at first, till she sent a glance over at Ruby, who looked innocently back at her. Ruby had never looked completely innocent a day in her life.
The kids came forward with their pads and pens, showing her the work they had done overnight. As the only Teacher's only assistant it was Linka's job to correct all the work. She did so during much of the lesson. Every now and then she would take the class out into the fields and teach them about the animals, about the crops, about the forest…
The class bowed their heads down over their work as they started their assignment for the day, and Linka brought the corrected worksheets to Yakov, who let his fingers linger on hers a little as he took them back. He leaned in and whispered. "Don't know how I'll handle them without you. Congratulations."
Linka flushed bright pink. She wasn't used to being the center of attention and found she didn't know what to do as a result. She sent a fierce look at Ruby, who shrugged and smiled back at her broadly.
Linka sighed. If she didn't tell her Grandmother soon, somebody else would.
Linka went into the small hut next to the Tenant building and started up the machines. Most of the town avoided the small shed like the plague, because of the smell. Large wheelbarrows full of pig manure were surrounding the building, with bags of it piled up, inside and out. They were necessary fuel for the methane generator.
During the last winter, the power lines had been downed, and the town spent a miserable three days huddled together in the old church to keep from freezing to death. The next month, Linka had been in Moscow for the Gymnastics competition and had looked into energy sources.
They were all horribly expensive, hard to obtain, and impossible to make themselves, but Linka had discovered a Library book which talked about farm equipment. Including a machine that could convert methane gas from pigs into usable energy. Since she didn't have a library card, she had quietly stolen the book and brought it back to their small village. A few months later, they had their own power supply. Just enough to keep the lights and heat on for a few days if the power lines ever went down again. With the power lines still up, the machine still had to be maintained; so it ran for one day a week.
They never ran out of manure, so the machine was the only uncertainty.
Linka started the machine, made sure it was working properly, and headed inside quickly; making the climb to the apartment she shared with her Grandmother.
The cold came through every crack in the building. Mr Lenov was downstairs picking a fight with the furnace, but the real problem was the fact that the building was falling apart. Getting supplies enough to fill in the cracks was difficult. Linka tracked down the source of the cold wind and stuffed in some sealant that she had gotten on that same trip to Moscow.
Her grandmother served her the soup and sat down, bowing her head in prayer before she ate. When she raised her head, she turned shrewd eyes on her granddaughter. "Linka, the postman said that Ruby collected our mail out of our mailbox today. He said there was more than one letter, but I only got the one from your parents. Mr Rustov was smiling. Ruby's mother told me to congratulate you..."
"How is Ruby?" Linka asked with elaborate calm. "She was coughing pretty hard this morning..."
Her grandmother was not swayed. "Linka. Why don't you tell me what everyone in the town seems to know?"
Linka cursed her small tight knit community silently and pulled the letter out. "Moscow State University accepted my application. Gymnastics Scholarship."
The old woman smiled broadly. "Granddaughter, I am so happy for you!"
Linka looked down. "I haven't decided if I am going yet."
"And why would you not?"
"My home is here Grandmother. My place is here with you. You need me."
"Do you think you are the only pair of strong legs and arms this village can offer to help an old woman, dear child?"
"No grandmother. But if I were to leave..."
"You would be closer to your parents. They would love to have you close by. And they would love to have you in that school! Nobody in the family made it past high school. A University scholarship? It's a blessing child, don't question it. Accept it."
"I would worry about you too much. I would not be able to forgive myself for leaving." Linka said dismissively.
"And what about pursing your future is shameful?" Linka's grandmother leaned forward. "I am an old woman dear. I have survived wars, large and small; I have survived capitalism, communism, Marxism, poverty, bankruptcy, happiness, love, loss and everything in between. I have far more days behind me, and you have far more days ahead."
Linka did not answer. In truth, she hadn't made her mind up until just then, and tried not to read anything into the fact that she had reflexively decided not to go as soon as her grandmother started pushing her to accept.
The old woman reached out and took her granddaughter's hand. "You don't belong here Linka. There are some girls who live in villages, and there are some girls who happen to live in villages. You are the latter. You deserve so much better than this place." She picked up the letter and pressed it into Linka's hand. "Take this opportunity. Find your True North. Find where you are meant to be. If it is not at Moscow University then have it be somewhere else. But you do not belong here with me for the rest of your life."
Linka listened to this impassioned speech from the only person left in the world that she truly loved with careful sincerity, feeling tears well up in her eyes. "I love you Grandmother. I do not want to say goodbye."
She smiled at the younger woman. "Then do not say it. But this is something you have to do Linka. You do not pass up a chance at a better future."
"But-"
Her grandmother shushed her and went back to her bowl. "Eat, before your soup gets cold."
Linka did so. "What did my parents say?"
"They say the Office is working well, they say that they miss you; they say that winter is coming. They say that they love you; and hope you are happy."
"Same things they always say."
Alana gave Linka a sympathetic smile. "They always hated that they had to leave here without you."
"They needed to find work. I understood."
"You always understand my dear." Alana said. "Doesn't mean you have to like it."
"It was something that had to be done." Linka said coolly. "You cannot fault anyone for doing what they had to do."
"They miss you." Alana pressed. "If there was any other way to keep the family going, they would have taken it to be with you."
"I know that." Linka said, unconcerned.
Alana studied her granddaughter. Linka tended to distance herself from painful emotions. She had to say goodbye too many times in her early childhood. She convinced herself it was necessary, and thus not something to feel bad over. She never got upset, she just got very calm. Alana worried for her, but didn't know how to fix it. So it was left unsaid as Linka grew up.
"If you go to Moscow, you would see them far more often." Her grandmother pointed out gently.
"And you would lose me too." Linka countered.
"I can handle that." Alana promised her instantly, not sure she meant it. "I've had more goodbyes than you've had hot dinners Linka. It's not like we would never see each other again. I can handle it."
"And so can I." Linka said firmly, refusing to say another word on the matter.
Inwardly, she was mad at herself, not at all pleased with how that had gone. She had meant to politely explain her reasons, and then calmly toss the letter in the bin. Instead she had let it turn into an actual disagreement. One that she may have lost.
She wanted to go to Moscow State University more than anything that had ever before been offered to her. She knew what an opportunity it was; and she wanted to seize it. But she had responsibilities. Her grandmother and her town came first. She didn't like it, but she knew not to get upset over it. There was no point getting upset over it. It was something she wanted, not something she needed; certainly not something the others needed.
She kept telling herself that.
Sleep did not come easily to her. The cold made sleep difficult this time of year, so Linka got up and went to the table in the kitchen. The seedlings were laid out in small clay herb trays, which had been in her Grandmother's home for as long as she could remember. Once upon a time, they were left on the windowsill to grow a small herb garden, but as the winters grew longer, the pots were used to grow seedlings indoors until the weather got warm enough for the plants to survive outside. A tactic that would not work in the nearby field, but was enough to work for the garden behind the Tenant block. It was her grandmothers' way, to adapt. The winters grew longer, so some of their food had to start growing indoors.
She liked the plants. She liked how simple it was. Living things wanted to live, wanted to grow...
Such thoughts led her back to the Great Forest.
Sleep was not an option, and she pulled on her jacket.
The cold hit her as soon as she went outside. Her bike was fast and silent and she knew the route well enough to ride it in the dark. Her Grandmother would be outraged, but Linka intended to be back before she woke up.
Linka loved the forest. She loved watching the deer feed. She loved listening to the birds sing. She loved watching the leaves change colors, she loved the sound of the river that rolled around the mountain to the forest, and then through to her village.
She loved the way the branches felt in her hands as she jumped from tree to tree. A talent that she had since childhood. It was a talent that she had practised for her bird watching; and it had earned her a natural skill on the uneven bars.
She remembered the way her friends had seen her flip and rotate around the thin straight branches, and how they had encouraged her to enter a competition nearby. Linka had not really been interested, but they had made a bet regarding it, and Linka lost, so as The Corporation was bringing in some supplies, Linka had been able to hitch a ride on the trucks as they went back to Moscow.
Linka was stunned. She had never been in a city before. The gym was heated, and the girls there for the competition were all so dismissive of her. Every one of them looked the part of a gymnast. Every one of them small, delicate...
Linka had beaten them all.
They were stunned when they saw the way she moved on the bars, the balance beam... "Linka Lighter Than Air" they called her.
Scouts from University teams had been watching, and apparently they had seen something they liked.
But Moscow... it was... Scary. Linka denied fear at any time, but she had to admit to being intimidated by Moscow. The towers, the buildings, the traffic. More people than she had ever seen; more cars that she had ever seen.
More money than she had ever seen.
Linka climbed one of her favorite trees, and went as high as she could. Higher than she had ever gone before. The birds were the only ones this high.
Lighter than air. Linka thought.
She looked at the birds, actually a few branches below her. "What do I do?"
The birds woke up sharply and squawked from her voice.
Linka chuckled at her own foolishness, and then glanced about; as if worried somebody had seen her laugh.
But there was nobody in the dark. Linka waited; just enjoying the air, enjoying the stars. She was up high enough that the branch was too weak for her to sit on, so she stayed vertical instead, tilting her head back to look at the night sky.
Then the sun came up; and Linka breathed happily. The sun shone over the treetops and lit up the snow. It was beautiful.
She couldn't leave this. Could she? What would the sky look like in Moscow?
The sun rose higher. The village would be waking up soon. Grandmother would wonder where she was.
That was when Linka saw the bird. It was... weaving. It was flapping its way toward her, trying to get to her. Linka stared at it. Rarely did wild birds seek out humans deliberately. The bird looked... Sick. Almost looked drunk.
Linka held out her hand to it automatically, and to her amazement, the bird landed on her fingertips. It bent forward, and dropped something into her palm. The bird cocked its head, looking up at her, and then simply... fell from her fingertips; as though its last duty was fulfilled.
Linka blinked in shock and dropped down to the thicker stronger branches. She grasped the thin branch beneath her and flipped to the ground, imagining herself on the uneven parallel bars.
And when she landed; her eyes focused sharply on the ground near the tree trunk. It was much darker below the dawn-tree cover, but after a moment her eyes adjusted to the night and she saw them.
Birds. On the ground. Three of them. Linka went over. It was not unusual. These birds had predators... But the dead birds had not been struck by anything, not been wounded... they just... fell.
Only then did Linka look in her hand. The bird had clearly been trying to get this to her, impossible though that was.
It was a Ring.
It was a simple gold band with a pale blue-white jewel on top. There was some kind of symbol carved into the jewel; like a flattened spiral. Instinctively, she slipped it on. It fit her perfectly, like it was made for her.
She looked around for an answer, and saw more birds... on the ground?
Linka felt her eyes widen. The birds... were dying.
She took off her scarf and wrapped one of the birds in it, and quickly ran for the village. She was in a hurry so she skipped off the path and ran for the shortcut. Past the Corporation's factory, along the banks of the river. She could follow the river to the fields and make it back faster.
The trees kept the ground beneath the canopy in relative darkness at this time of the morning, but even so, she could see. The closer she got to the river, the grayer the leaves on the trees seemed to get. The bark was thinner, the leaves were drooping...
As she ran, it dawned on her. The river. The river was making the trees grow, and the trees were dying.
The birds lived in those trees, and they were dying.
Linka bared her teeth, feeling sick and she slowed to a halt. The trees that were looking sick led into a part of the forest she had never gone to before…
Linka hesitated, then put the scarf wrapped bird down on the ground. She turned on her heel and followed the sickly looking trees to the river. She followed the river, following it upstream. She had made the journey to the mouth of the river many times, but she knew the path of the river enough that she'd never had to follow the turns it had made. This time she did.
And one of the turns, hidden behind a grove of trees had a road. It was a bare dirt road, not really paved or solid. If not for all the trees around, it might even have been natural.
Linka froze, looking up the road. There was no sign of anybody there...
She went to the grove of trees, and climbed the nearest one, her speed barely slowing after shifting from moving horizontally to moving vertically. She went straight up the tree; and climbed across the river, using the branches of the trees that crossed each other, stepping from one side of the river to the other via the natural overpass.
Once at the other side of the river, Linka dropped again, landing in a flawless crouch on the road, more of a path really, now that she had gotten a closer look in the dark. Staying as low as she could, she crept along it. Still no sign of anybody. Instead, she found the fence. It was a good distance up the road from the river, well away from the trees, but the path led right to it, and beyond it.
There were warning signs on the fence, daring anyone to cross under the pain of death.
Linka thought about it for a full seven seconds; and felt her face harden. If this was the source of the problem...
After leaving the edge of the forest; she saw further than before... the air had lost its crisp fresh smell, replaced with the scent of industry.
Linka felt her face twist. She knew what she would find.
She slowed to a walk as she followed the fence along further. She could see the smokestacks. It was the Chemical Plant.
Linka came around further and the bright white lights in their courtyard suddenly fell over her.
Linka froze, feeling like a deer trapped in the sudden glare. She backed away slowly, back into the dark. She knew she hadn't been seen; hadn't been doing anything punishable anyway. But she retreated back to the forest. Here among her trees and her birds she felt safe.
She followed the fence back to the river. There was nothing there but the end of the road and a gate, locked from the inside. A road to the river, coming from the Chemical plant, and the birds were dying.
The implication was obvious. The Chemical plant was dumping something in the river, and it was killing wildlife.
Linka felt the cold pressure building inside her. Linka wasn't the kind to compromise on things she cared about, and she cared about the forest.
Rustov was the town vet. He handled the health needs of the livestock. The chickens and sheep and cows in this village fed the residents of the Tenant block. Rustov had been a very successful vet in another life, and had come here after falling on hard times.
Ruby was awake when Linka came running back to the building, and the girl's shouts had awoken everyone for a hundred miles.
After scolding Linka and Ruby for causing a fuss, Rustov had seen the bird in her hands and gone right to work. More than a few of the neighbors had hung around to congratulate Linka on her recent success. She had politely thanked them, waiting for Rustov to confirm what she already knew.
And then he'd said it.
"It looks like poison."
Linka paled. "The river! The river is poisoned!"
Her words set off a buzz of panic from those in the building that overheard. The river fed their crops, fed the forest, and now it was killing wildlife.
Rustov had followed Linka back into the Forest, to where the majority of the dead things had been concentrated. He checked them all and the answer was the same. Poison.
While Rustov collected samples from the river, Linka could feel her blood boiling. She knew these trees. She loved this place. This forest had fed her town with it's animals and it's foliage. it warmed them with it's firewood during the harsh Russian winter, it cleaned their air and water, it gave them life.
And right there, at the edge of it, between the trees and the river; was The Corporation's Chemical Plant. Or at least, the edge of it's property.
Linka followed the trees to the river, the river to the path, the path to the fence, and the fence back to the Chemical Plant and looked up at it, with its huge tanks, and its smokestacks. Framed against the forest it looked like a wound in the earth.
Rustov refused to cross the river, even for testing, as it wasn't their property. Nobody wanted to come out and say it. Most of the older ones in this town had fled to the small country life. None of them had ever overtly explained their reasons why, but Linka knew. In Russia, there was only one reason you tried not to say what you wanted to say. Fear.
Linka understood. Rustov didn't want to test here. He'd find something incriminating. And The Corporation was powerful; even more-so than the Government was in some places.
They called for a meeting. They met in the church. Linka was raised a Catholic, her grandfather having come from Italy to Russia to escape the war. But her community, the town, and her grandmother were all Russian Orthodox. As a result, Linka had not followed either religion in the absence of her parents for years. But when the power lines to the city had gone down in a storm; and The Chemical Plant had its own backup generators; the heat had gone out in the Tenant block. Most of the town had huddled into the church to keep warm overnight. As a result, the Church had become the unofficial town meeting place.
"All right, this is rumor control. Yes, there are toxins in the area." Rustov was saying to the assembled townsfolk. "But they are not at dangerous levels."
"Is it the river?" Someone called.
"We don't know for sure yet. The source is most likely the Chemical Plant, and yes, the river does run very close to their property on it's way here. As yet, we have no evidence that it's coming from the water. In fact, given that the toxins are affecting some of the birds in the forest; it may be airborne; in which case we don't have to worry. The winds are uniformly blowing away from the town. And even if it does get here, it would take a considerably prolonged exposure before it started to bother us. Same with a water based toxin. It's enough to bother a baby bird; but not enough to kill anyone."
There was silence as they all ticked that over. Linka was far away in her mind.
"Who should we tell?" Someone called. "The police won't work... how about we go higher?"
There was a shiver at that. The KGB may have been long dead, but their specter cast a shadow over many people from beyond the grave. Much of the police force was on The Corporation's payroll anyway, whether legitimately or not.
"What about the press?" Linka called. She had heard of such things working before. Make a clandestine operation public knowledge and it would have to shut down.
"Half the media in Russia belongs to them. Nobody's going to publish a story condemning their pay masters." Alana said calmly, sitting right next to Linka but not looking at her.
The debate started again, everyone arguing back and forth, scoring points, being overruled. Linka barely heard them. Until Ruby started coughing again. Ruby's lungs had never been terribly strong. Colds and kids came as a set. But with the notion of poisons in the air...
The meeting broke up not long after that. Rustov had said something Linka didn't hear about the tests being sent to a university laboratory for further study, and how there was no real danger to them at the moment… and the others had relieved expressions that Linka didn't agree with...
Alana silently stayed behind with Linka as everyone filed out. The younger woman made no effort to move from her seat.
Once they were alone; Linka let out the fear she had been hiding.
"Grandmother." Linka whispered. "Those toxins could come this way if the wind shifts for any length of time."
Unnoticed, her ring glimmered and the wind picked up. Neither of them noticed. The wind had been cold and biting for months.
Linka kept going without pause. "Some of the younger ones... Ruby's been coughing for days. Grandmother, your lungs have not been very strong this year either. If any of those 'low levels' get into you as well..."
Her grandmother squeezed her shoulders. "My dearest one, you make yourself crazy. First it's the crops, then it's my back, then it's my lungs, then it's the forest...You can find a million excuses to deny yourself things you want Linka. Why do you never give yourself permission to have something you deserve?"
Linka looked down, feeling foolish. "I just want..."
"Things to stay the same?"
Linka nodded.
"I understand. You are young. Growing up means that things change. Linka, you want to make things better. You want to keep everything as it is. But you cant do that. Nobody can. It's a big world. It's a big forest. You have to look after yourself."
Linka didn't look up. "The people that built that Chemical Plant. You think they were looking after themselves too?"
"That's different."
"Why?" Linka demanded, getting angry. "Where did you get this idea that putting you, the only family I have left, ahead of my own profit is a bad thing?"
"Because I love you Linka, and I won't be around forever. I'm an old woman, and I don't want you to spend your life here; and I don't want it to be because of me!" Her grandmother yelled back. "You deserve better than that! Better than this!"
Linka did not answer.
"Say something."
Silence.
Alana sighed. "You're a fighter Linka. Always have been. You never give an inch do you?"
"I just... I want to make this stop happening! I want people to stop worrying about themselves and start doing something. I want to make these terrible things stop happening, to you, to Ruby, to my friends; to the forest! How long have those trees been there? They stand for centuries and we kill them in seconds. Can't we hold on to anything?"
Her grandmother smiled sadly at her. "You're Russian. You should know this by now." The old woman stood up. "I am going home where it's warmer. I know you want to make a difference in the world Linka, but people have been trying to make a difference for many years. It is no sin to try and improve your means."
Linka did not follow her Grandmother out. Linka knew where her grandmother was coming on this. The town and the people in it were the victims of promises unfulfilled too many times. The future wasn't what it used to be.
She looked up at the crucifix. Linka closed her eyes.
Linka rolled her head back. "I cannot just go where the wind blows. I have to get somewhere!"
Her ring glimmered again. The wind picked up and sliced through the old church, rustling the hymnals, flipping pages across the bibles. She looked over at the one her grandmother left behind. The wind had opened it to Revelations.
"The time has come for judging the dead, and for rewarding Your servants the prophets and Your saints and those who reverence Your name, both small and great-and for destroying those who destroy the earth."
Linka chuckled at the irony. "Destroying those who Destroy the Earth. Well, there's a scripture that wouldn't have meant anything fifty years ago. Guess that's what makes it a prophecy huh?" She stood up and closed her eyes, feeling the size of the large empty room. "Lord of the Sky. What am I supposed to do?" She asked. While she had never followed either religion of the two available to her personally; it was not the first prayer she had made. "I see things that I value and loved being changed, and I am powerless against them. And not only am I unable to stop things I love being changed... even destroyed, but the people who mean the most to me are telling me not to try. Lord of the Birds, I don't know if you're listening. But I do believe you're there. And if you care about the things I do. If they matter to you..."
There was a sound, like a storm, like the roar of the wind. As if the wind came from everywhere with the force of a freight train and touched nothing. She was in the eye of a non existent hurricane, held in check as it roared around her...
Linka looked around sharply. She felt nothing on her skin. Nothing was moving. The air had paused, stuck in place...
Her ring was glowing. It glowed brightly, until Linka could not see, her world blanked out by the magnificent light.
What is this? She asked.
An answer.
AN: I worry that I may be hitting the farming aspect a little too hard. It's only these two characters, who happen to come one after the other. Sorry. There's plenty of ways to stay Green that don't involve growing your own food.
I'm sorry if this one seemed Cliché. Depending on where you live in Russia, you can be in some of the most beautiful cities in the world, or some of the most poverty stricken 'All-in-this-together' small towns. Please remember, that I have never once been to Russia, what I know of it comes strictly from TV.
I'm honestly not sure if I got any of this right. When the cartoon was on, Linka was from the Soviet Union. A political entity that has not existed for decades at this point. I tried to get the feel of 'unfulfilled promises' in this chapter, partly to match the history, partly because all the players are feeling the frustration I this story; hence the need for a solution.
The cartoon had them all coming from different backgrounds, different walks of life. Almost certainly, that was because the show was desperate to make the point that the Environment was everyone's problem.
As a result, this may seem a little cliché, but I tried to make it true to the spirit of Linka. She always struck me as the Hard-Liner of the group. The one that never gave an inch. For all the talk about Wheeler being the fighter of the Planeteers, he knew when to concede defeat. Linka was far more single-minded.
One more thing to mention. The last chapter was not intended to seem Pro-Astrology, and more than this chapter is intended as Pro-Christendom. I want the team to go beyond all races, all religions, all backgrounds.
In the meantime, I want to say a big thank you to everyone who reviewed.
Three down. Two to go. And then the actual story starts. How am I doing so far?
AN: Changes made. Just spelling. Thanks to the pest who keeps correcting me. Nice to know my stories are ready by third grade English teachers. ;-)