CHAPTER 4
DOWN THE RIVER
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The barge proceeded slowly and quietly while Damien was in his cabin for about two hours, busy giving me first aid. I was unconscious while he nursed me back to health and remained so for quite a while. I didn't know what happened in those moments until much later.
There was no sign of the mercs, but Deena wasn't anxious about them, rather about how they had reduced me just a short time before.
"Tomorrow morning, he will be as good as new", the captain of the barge replied as he exited, rubbing his bloody hands with mechanic's paste once outside the cabin. "You can see him if you want, but he won't answer you cause he's still unconscious. Are you hungry?".
"As… new?", she asked incredulously but preferring not to push. "But…”.
"Don't worry", he reassured her with a smile.
She looked at him wary but not knowing what else to do, she accepted the offer of food with a nod of her head and passed him by rushing in where I was resting. When she entered, she saw me lying in a hammock fixed to the walls with plastic hooks, wrapped in a ragged red polyester blanket. My face was studded with Band-Aids and a bandage on my forehead.
"Ce fou”, she said to herself. "Do you really not care to be reduced like this?".
"Mademoiselle!", my old mentor called her shortly thereafter.
There was certainly no Jaurès-like menu for lunch that day, and the two had to settled for canned beans and onions with some dry bread and a little water.
"It's not the best, but at least it fills the stomach, n'est pas?", commented Damien embarrassed. "That's all I had, this trip wasn't on schedule”.
"Believe me, I thank the Gods that it's not meat. C'est bon”, replied her young host. "Are you sure we can keep him here? I mean, I'm no doctor but no offense, you don't look like one either and there was all that blood and that hole in his leg... I think we should take him to the hospital right away and…”.
Damien smiled. "I've sewn that fool enough times that I don't need the instructions anymore. Rather, it is not usual to see Daith along with such a pretty girl. He rushed to me with you in the back, pursued by well-equipped mercenaries. He seemed to care a great deal about your safety. Was he escorting you? Are you a VIP? Was he your low-key escort?".
"Me? A… oh no! Let alone, a VIP!", she laughed embarrassed. "I'm about as far from a star as you can get”.
"Oh, so it's not an official job”, muttered the man. "So who exactly are you? You've been here for hours and never opened your mouth except to ask me about him. Are you his girlfriend by any chance?".
"Absolutely not! Excuse me sir, let me introduce myself. My name is Deena Dumas and Daith saved my life”.
"My name is Damien Dutronc and there is no need for people to call me sir anymore. Did he by any chance got mixed up in something that was none of his business?", he inquired.
"Well, sort of”, she said, shaking her head. "It started out one way and went on that way. He says it's a game for him”.
"A game”, the man repeated, shaking his head. "Again? The fool won't grow up”.
"But he was nice, he...”.
"Nice? He's not nice”, Damien objected. "He's just not afraid of a fucking thing, and to feel alive he purposely gets into trouble. He didn't save you out of altruism”.
"He didn't ask me for anything in return”.
"He may not have asked you but he took it! Alleged glory, excitement, scoring for sure... nothing you could give him directly”.
Deena nodded, shuffling the beans back into the can. The guy was woefully familiar with her savior.
"So, what are you?", he asked explicitly and less patiently.
"I'm just a suburban girl”, the girl replied with a shrug.
"What kind of suburban girl?".
"What kind are you referring to?", asked Deena feeling underwhelmed.
"To the most common one. Poor, hungry, maybe desperate. Illegal... Look I'm from here and I'm old. Pretty and poor chasing fools I've seen plenty. One maybe even ripped me off a few credits by telling a sad story. So don't waste my time".
Deena was annoyed by that tone, but she understood that the man was caught up in all that mess and he just wanted to see what was going on. So, she was honest. "I'm illegal. That's why no cops. I was kidnapped a few days ago along with some other girls, Daith was with the FMP. They released us and I escaped. Let's just say he didn't drop the bone”.
"Ah, of course”, he laughed relieved at that explanation. "Oui. He must have looked like a fool to you”.
"Kinda”, she smiled. "But a good fool, non?".
Damien was not of the same opinion, but nodded. "His hero complex, all in all, leads him to exaggerate on the right side, usually. But let me get this straight, those were your captors there?".
"Yeah, I guess. Or their competitors, I'm not sure”.
"With a ship? Just for you?".
"Yes...”.
Damien took a sip of wine. "Whose daughter are you? How much are you worth?".
Deena sighed dejectedly. " I'm really no one”, she said lowering her heavy head. "I grew up on the streets and ran a small NGO with a guy in the slums, the same one where they dumped me as a kid. I really don't know what they want, maybe an exchange? They were looking for one specific girl out of many, surely the one they want isn't even me”.
"You don't move a beast of a ship like that without being sure of what you're doing”, reasoned Damien.
"How do you know Daith?", she asked to divert the conversation.
Damien answered after a few moments, absorbed in thought. "I used to teach”, he said looking away.
"You used to teach?" asked Deena curiously.
"In the academy”.
"You were Daith's teacher?".
"At the Seattle Military Academy. They train the most promising children of military personnel who have died as a result of combat or accidents on the job. Orphans are selected from an early age and if eligible are educated according to the law of Humanity. The males in particular are initiated into Freemasonry and trained to become the elite, then everyone chooses the specialty they like best. Your friend in there was a student of mine of urban guerrilla actions, promising. He outwitted me once too! Ah, he's family…”, Damien explained with an air of nostalgia and a hint of pride.
"You don't look like a teacher or a soldier”, the other scrutinized him.
"It's been years. His father and I were good friends and I taught his children for years before I retired. I came home and set up this little tourist transport business and in my spare time I trade war remnants with certain guys... hence that little toy in the hold. Luckily, we didn't use it, I wanted to get some credits out of it”.
"I'm sorry for the inconvenience... But don’t you tell… his children?".
Damien's face suddenly grew dark, then he answered dryly, "Daith had a brother”.
Deena realized that the topic was unwelcome and settled for that answer. "It was lucky for us to meet you then, you really saved us”.
Damien turned red and awkward at the glow of Deena's smile. "I did little or nothing”, he said with false modesty. "Besides, I doubt it was luck. Daith knew I was in town, and surely meditated on bringing us together for one reason or another. He knows I'm not as rigid and methodical in enforcing laws when needed, so whatever venture he undertook, I was part of his strategy”.
"There was another guy with him, his name was Matt. It was his idea to come to you. Did you know him?".
"Don't talk about him in the past tense, it's bad luck. You definitely talk about Fowler, Matt Fowler. A smart guy, even if he doesn't take anything seriously... but it’s still fine at his age”.
"I hope he's okay, he and Daith seemed to be friends”.
"Did something happen to him?", asked Damien frowning.
"He got shot. One of the mercenaries hunting me said he was dead or wounded, I don't know”, the girl explained, fiddling with her shoelaces with a downcast gaze. She just couldn't accept that outsiders would end up involved in that absurd story.
"Fowler lacks the aptitude for martyrdom, quite the contrary. I wouldn't underestimate him”.
A thick cloud of black smoke quickly inundated the entire deck of the boat, choking the passengers.
"Is that them?", panted Deena, thinking of an attack.
"Merd, n'est pas possible! I forgot the engine!" suddenly cursed Damien, who threw himself into the cabin to get a fire extinguisher and immediately stop the engines of the battered craft. The girl was still sitting on the ground, when the barge with a violent jolt suddenly slowed down, so that the captain could climb on the shaft and empty the contents of the extinguisher inside. Slowly, the smoke stopped coming out of the crack in the pipe, but as soon as Damien opened the hatch that led below deck and from there to the engine room, a new wave of thick black miasma hit the barge. The captain jumped down armed with another extinguisher and after a couple of minutes came out with his face covered with soot, cursing in French. The girl got up and headed, breathing hard, towards Damien, who promptly sent her into the cabin with the sole comfort of his improvised reassurances. She obediently entered and immediately closed the door, to avoid smoke entering where I was still resting, placed exactly as she had left me a half hour before.
From inside Deena could clearly hear the sound of the engines slowly dying. The smoke began to clear and the lights on the small control panel in the cabin went out one by one. He went out, closed the door behind him and went to join Damien, who was grumbling standing in front of the hatch that led below deck from where the unpleasant blackish exhalation was almost gone.
"What happened, a fire?", asked her nervously.
"No, no, fortunately! But everything overheated! I didn't keep an eye on the regime. We'll have to stop for a while, to let the heat of the engine die down and allow me to repair the damage, if it can be repaired with the parts I have in the hold. I'm afraid we're going to spend the night here”.
"Is that good or bad? I don't even know where we're going”.
"Neither do I, to be honest. Daith got you on, but until he recovers, I don't know what to do either. I should stop the boat and call the FMP but if they haven't shown up it's because he hasn't notified them. I'll wait until he wakes up to see what's what. That place will do”, the captain said, pointing to a recess in the river in the mainland under some lush weeping willows, which sheltered the area from the view of anyone trying to spot them from above. On the shore, the remains of some old wooden boats and a moth-eaten and half-destroyed gangway clearly indicated that this place was, or at least had been, a customary landing place.
After a not easy maneuver, Damien moored the boat in the small bay and secured the barge to the trunk of one of the giant willows with a rope, after which he immediately set to work in the engine room. Deena helped as much as she could and although engines were not her strong point, she was able to make herself useful on several occasions. With her agility and her build she was able to reach places where poor Damien would certainly not have been able to squeeze in. Moreover, to the man's surprise, she seemed to learn both the names of the components and their purpose incredibly quickly, and was soon able to propose effective solutions instead of just following orders.
"The polymer electrolyte membrane in cell number 3 is okay”, said Deena casually.
"Oh really?", asked Damien checking for himself and confirming that she was right. "You know about old engines”.
"No, you explained it to me earlier how to do it”, replied the girl.
"True”, the man recalled. "How do you remember everything so quickly?".
"I don't know, it doesn't seem so... difficult, does it?", she shrugged feeling under scrutiny.
"No, maybe not. If you're inclined. And you are, apparently”, he laughed, suspicious.
They replaced a couple of components, literally melted by the intense heat. "It's a miracle we didn't blow up!", exclaimed the captain as soon as he had one of the damaged parts in his hand. Fortuitously, Damien had everything he needed with him and by sunset they had finished their work. They washed their blackened and filthy hands in the Seine, ate a meager dinner of canned goods found here and there below deck and then, when the sun had disappeared behind the mountains, Damien lit a fire in the middle of the deck on a small portable brazier, activated the electric traps for the mosquitoes that had already begun to buzz around them and drew the curtains of the cabin where I was still resting.
"Where will I sleep?", asked Deena to her new friend.
"On the deck, if you don't mind. It's not cold and it's a starry night without a wisp of wind. Use one of these lounge chairs, they're comfortable. If you need anything, I'll be below deck, next to the EMPB”, Damien greeted her, laying some pillows and a rough black blanket on the white plastic deck chair.
"On the deck?", she marveled. "But what if those guys... jump on board?".
"If you hear a noise, run into the water”.
"Into the water?", she repeated not at all reassured. "Daith and I have already slept in the same room”, Deena said confused by that decision. "Maybe it would be safer if…”.
"As long as he's in that condition, he'll have to be alone”, he insisted.
"But...”.
"Good night!", the man took his leave, giving her his back and closing the matter once and for all. Deena was more than a little displeased but she was a guest on board and it wasn't her first night outdoors after all.
The evening was mild, starry and a warm southerly wind made the environment even more peaceful and suggestive. The crickets began to sing, emitting their trill and accompanying the peaceful flow of the river and the uninterrupted swaying of the barge like a symphony. Lulled by these pleasant sounds, Deena looked for the last time at the leaves of the willows that hid part of the clear starry sky, closed her eyes and fell asleep. After a few hours she suddenly woke up, disturbed by something that was not quite clear to her. She opened her eyes, as bright as fireflies in the darkness.
Everything was immersed in the thickest darkness, but starlight was not the only thing illuminating the night. From behind the curtains of the cabin where I was, there were curious glimpses of blue light, which to Deena's dark accustomed eyes seemed even dazzling.
‘Maybe Daith woke up and turned on the light', she thought curiously. She slowly rose from her bed and made her way to the cabin door. She was about to grasp the brass handle when a dark, rough, calloused hand grabbed her wrist firmly and another closed her mouth, preventing her from letting out an instinctive scream.
"It's Damien, don't be afraid”, whispered a voice as familiar as it was instantly threatening.
Deena freed herself from his grip and exclaimed in an irritated tone, "What are you, crazy? Where do you get off attacking me behind my back like that! You scared me!".
"I'm sorry but it was necessary. You can't go in the cabin now. Go back to sleep, come on”, the captain, who hadn't slept a wink most of the night, answered her while keeping his composure.
"Why? I think Daith just woke up, I'm anxious to see how he's doing”, the girl retorted, still annoyed.
"He'll be just fine, you'll see him tomorrow. Now do as I say, go back to sleep and don't go into the cabin”,
"What are you trying to hide in there? Talk!".
Suddenly the light gradually went out and total darkness returned inside. Damien breathed something akin to a sigh of relief. "Nothing at all, if you ask me, just don't disturb him. Just check quietly if it'll help calm you down”.
"You can be bet on it”, she said staring him straight in the eye. Damien hadn't paid attention before that moment but the girl's eyes, in the darkness, seemed to shine with a light of their own.
He was stunned for a moment, keeping his gaze fixed on them trying to give himself an explanation.
"Anything else?", she asked irritated by that oppressive control.
"No. Take it easy, that's all”, he said walking away seemingly calm and sleepy but with a few more doubts in his mind.
Deena finally alone, slowly opened the door and peered inside. Everything was silent and it was pitch dark but nothing seemed to have changed. Before she could fall asleep again, the sky to the east was beginning to warn her that dawn was near.
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I slowly opened my eyes, let out an endless yawn, stretched and then violently tumbled out of the hammock, hitting my chin on the floor with a dull thud. I stood up slowly, massaging my aching jaw, looked around me, bewildered, and tried to take stock of the situation.
I was in a tiny room, half-naked and blindfolded. My face was full of band-aids and one leg was wrapped in a filthy bandage smeared with stale blood. I yawned again, stretched again and then headed for the porthole. I saw the sky beyond the glass clearing over a thick canopy of foliage and beyond that a giant river flowing calmly north. As the minutes passed, my mind and numb limbs began to function properly again and soon I was fully lucid.
The AI alerted me that I had several incoming messages from my superior, Major Carter. Clearly, they were expecting me to call back. Matt had been injured or killed in a shooting and I was missing. I had asked SAI to keep me in incognito mode from the moment I regained consciousness in the sewers and I kept that decision. I was exacerbating my condition but at the same time I was keeping my word. If I contacted Carter, they would come for me and Deena would be identified and arrested. I wasn't going to break my promise or make Matt's sacrifice pointless.
I stank to high heaven, so I grabbed a rather large towel that Damien had placed on the table where he had stored my gear, grabbed a bar of soap placed next to a small sink, and sneaked out, still in my underwear. I slowly slid to the edge of the barge, removed my underwear and dove into the cold water, where I got rid of the band-aids and various bandages. Finally I dived down to just below my navel and began the cleaning operation, which brought me immense relief despite the cold.
My dive, however, had not gone unnoticed. Deena leaned over and saw me naked and rubbing myself. She stood there watching me curiously, silently, seeing my body for the first time. A mosaic of scars of cuts, scratches, burns dotted almost every inch of my skin. What struck her most was a long scar on my back from the base of my neck down to my loins and one on my left arm that circled the limb around my biceps and triceps. From that point down it almost looked like the arm had a different color.
As I turned around I noticed her and for a few seconds I stared at her expression of mixed pleasure and curiosity.
I was startled and let out a scream that made poor Damien, who was dozing off posed under the EMPB control panel, flinch in fright.
"Give me some fucking privacy!", I complained, yelling.
"Sorry!", she laughed, disappearing behind the railing.
Levering my arms, still embarrassed, I brought my gaze to floor level and laid it on the girl. She was about ten meters from me, almost at the other end of the barge, with her back turned with both hands covering her still laughing face. She was still wearing the pants the captain had lent her, a model that was decidedly loose and long to her, which stayed on thanks to two turns of a black leather belt.
"Did you enjoy the show?!", I shouted in annoyance.
"Médiocre!", retorted Deena. "Maybe a little oil and the right light would have improved the view!".
"Let me fucking clean up in peace!"
"And who's watching you!" she retorted, grumbling a "little boy" that I could still hear.
I let myself fall back into the water, finished rubbing the soap on myself, stepped out of the icy river and grabbed my clothes still hanging to dry above the boat deck. I returned to the cabin naked and dripping to overhaul the equipment that had been saved after the escape, a good excuse to not see the girl for a while. I checked the wounds and noted with satisfaction that they were totally healed and all that was left of them were a few skins and abrasions. Even the bullet hole in my leg was almost gone.
I heard a heavy sound of footsteps coming from below deck and an "Oh, parbleu!" coming out from under the trap door that led to it.
I tumbled out of the hammock, failing my second attempt of the day to get out without hurting myself, got back on my feet and puffed out of the cabin to greet my friend. "Old man, what's up!", I exclaimed briskly.
"Just a minute, I'll get something”, he said. He emerged from the hold with a rectangular stick in his hand, perhaps a piece of a pallet. I think there were still nails on the end of it.
"What’s the..HEY!", I dodged a straight slash to the head by sheer luck. "Damien! What the fuck is wrong with you?".
"You idiot!" he insulted me by delivering another slash also directed at my head. He began to target me with lunges and slashes relentlessly, showing that he still had some hidden physicality.
"Damien! Stop it!", I begged him. I tried to run away but he comically took to following me across the deck.
"You moron!", he yelled at me. "Fucking kid! Connard! Get over here! I'll break your crazy Irish head!".
Deena reappeared alarmed by the screams, shocked by the scene she was seeing. "Hey stop! What are you doing?", she yelled trying to separate us.
My old teacher attacked me a couple more times in the face, then changing the grip on the cane he delivered a sharp blow against my left knee. I saw stars and fell screaming with my butt on the ground holding me for the pain.
Damien threw the club to the ground, frustrated. "Always like that! See Deena? Two years since I've seen him and he always makes the same mistake! Get him to fixate on his fists and forget about his legs!".
"Now calm down Damien!", implored Deena putting herself between us.
"Calm down? Calm down? Moche stupid! You did it again didn't you? This time it was Fowler who paid the price!".
"Again?", asked Deena.
"Yes again!" explained Damien. "Our last mission together he messed with a gang of Romanians on Ceres!".
"What? Why?", she asked.
"Because they ran a small gambling den!", the man continued. "He saw that and thought it was a great idea to show off and make trouble for them! How did it end, huh? How?".
"Badly”, I complained still in pain from the blow to my knee. "But...”.
"But what?! Fuck, Daith Lester! Your buddy might be dead, you know oui? His SAI is not responding to messages! The media talking about the shooting are not talking about him unfortunately!".
"I'm sorry, okay? I'm fucking sorry!", I yelled almost about to cry. "I just... I just wanted to…”.
"To be a fucking hero, as usual!", Damien yelled back. "Grow up, gods! Not everyone is invulnerable like you! Do you understand? Normal people if they get shot, they die! Shit!".
Deena listened impassively, bouncing her gaze between us.
"It's true, I wanted to gain a few points though... I didn't feel like giving up!".
Damien seemed to calm down, looked at Deena with a smile and asked her to go to the helm for a few minutes, reassuring her of his intentions.
She turned away continuing to look at me worriedly and he came towards me, leaning a few steps away. "You didn't do it for the pussy, did you Daith?", he asked sharply in a low voice.
"For the... why are you all saying the same thing? Fucking old man what do you take me for? For Fowler? I didn't do all this just to fuck her!", I said truthfully.
"Let me get this straight. An illegal one. Poor and hungry. You rescue her, follow her, shelter her and protect her from her enemies. Why do you do that?", he asked insistently.
"Because... she's an orphan”, I admitted blushing visibly.
Damien looked at me for a moment, then the risk of a beating lowered. He sighed and nodded negatively. "Well, I'll settle for 60% truth, Daith”.
"What?".
"You idiot!", he yelled, settling a kick against my already sore knee. Deena made to leave the helm but Damien anticipated her intimating her to stay in her seat with a stern yell. "You didn't think for a moment that she was lying to you? That she knows very well who she is and what she's worth? Don't you understand that there was a huge manhunt going on in Paris? That female is worth her weight in gold to someone, similar mercs work for large corporations or the government itself do you understand that or not? You don't move a ship of that size to scan two lungs and sell them, is that clear to you?".
"Yes major it is clear to me! Shit, you think we didn't ask these questions? Deena isn't lying!".
"How can you tell? Did those big eyes of her confuse you? Is that your cock talking or is that your head?".
"It's the heart asshole!", I blurted as I stood up and grabbed my old teacher by the collar. "Deena isn't lying! She's not that kind of person!".
"Ah sure, in the twenty-four hours you spent together you must have figured her out!", he replied skeptically.
"In the seventeen years I've spent looking in the mirror I've figured out everything about her!", I retorted throwing him back hard, making him sit on the floor. "Don't tell me what pain looks like Major Dutronc!".
Damien looked at me with a mixture of admiration and pity. "Forget it”, he said defeatedly. "Cillian would kick your ass if he were here and break my nose for bringing up such an unprofessional soldier”. The air seemed to become tense again as Damien's eyes began to redden, until he stood up and held me warmly in his arms.
"What are you doing, Major, being sentimental? You know I'm hard-hearted!", I replied embarrassed.
"Like your father, besides!", the old teacher confirmed, letting go. "But don't take too much advantage of it. You got off easy this time. If you bleed out, it's over even for you”.
"Did she see that?".
"Don't worry. I covered for you while your body responded to the treatment”, he whispered.
"Thank you. The academy doesn't like to be known around”.
"Good old Carter might get mad, am I right?", chuckled Damien.
"In two days, I've been involved in several shootings, caused tens of thousands of credits worth of damage, and possibly lost a partner. Not to mention I'm on non-return. Carter will be angry enough, trust me”.
"The screams will probably be heard all the way over here. This time military justice won't turn a blind eye my boy. You'll just have to hope for Burris' rescue”.
"Must I always be rescued by my father's old friends?", I complained.
Damien slapped me on the head. "Stop being such an idiot! You'll see that no one like that will come save you!". He had a point. I felt damned guilty about Matt and the situation I'd created. "Let's think about the present now!".
"Give me time to eat something. Do you have any coffee?", I asked.
"Maybe”, he sighed. "I'll have the girl bring you some food and water. Sit on the deck and get some sun. Too many days in space, uh?”.
"Worse. Training in Canada”, I explained mournfully. "Shitty cold, worse than back home”.
"Oh, that's even worse than space”, he said walking away. I sat on a bench against the railing, looking out over the fields around me.
Deena arrived a few moments later with a couple of cans of cutlery and a bottle of water. "I would have loved to dive into the water and once at the bottom dig myself a hole where I could disappear”, she said.
I realized after a few seconds why. "Oh you have... you have…”.
"You were screaming like crazy! Yes, I had!", she said sitting down next to me.
"I'm really sorry I don't…”.
"You were so sweet”, she said disrupting every logical path my mind was putting together to give her an answer.
"I… what?", I asked confused.
"You were super sweet I said. Thank you for believing me”, she said. I only realized at that moment what I had said to Damien during the argument. I think I blushed because Deena laughed and then became serious again. "You're an orphan”.
"Did he tell you that?".
"Oui”, she admitted. "Yesterday while you were passed out”.
"Yeah”.
"So I'm not just a bait and a bonus on the score”, she said laying his gaze on me. Now I was the one who wanted to jump in the water looking for a hole. Deena smiled wishing me a good meal and walked away. Back at ease, I sighed letting out that strange tension and pounced on those lousy little boxes.
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"We have to set sail before they try again. That little guy is keeping them away but sooner or later they'll come up with an idea. Where are we headed, out of curiosity?", asked Damien.
"I'm not taking Deena to the police”, I said setting the record straight. "I made a deal and I intend to keep it. I've fucked up by now at least let it be for a good cause”.
"Hiding an illegal would be a just cause?".
"I.... don't judge me!", I snapped.
"I'm retired”, he shrugged, raising his hands. "Then we won't be able to count on anyone's protection. There's nothing we can do against that ship”.
"Protection. Protection. I think”, I said, "that the only way to be safe is to approach the military base at Hobson's Rock, off the mouth of the Seine. It's a well-fortified facility where one-third of the planet's air fleet is stationed. Taking Le Havre as a reference, point north and almost in the middle of the Channel you can see the islet. It should be practically impregnable, both by air and sea”.
"I know where it is, kid. They'll try to identify her as soon as we arrive”, Damien observed. "Or before that, they'll board us just five kilometers from the cliffs”.
"It's not inside Hobson's Rock that I want to go Damien. It's its no-fly zone that interests me”.
"Oh. Go on”.
"They certainly have an efficient anti-aircraft defense that I'm sure includes parts of the coast, French and English. Exploiting that no-fly zone, we could repair to England, sail up the Thames and disappear into London. They don't have any more bugs on her, once they lose our trail they won't find her again so easily. How does that sound?".
"It sounds like it could work. My boat isn't really suited for such a crossing but if the weather is good we should make it”.
"That's settled”, I said venturing a smile. The idea of at least getting Deena to safety made me happy. If the worst had indeed happened to Matt, at least it wouldn't be completely useless.
After several puffs it started the engines, which roared in a cloud of steam mixed with black smoke rising from the usual hole, and slowly started working again. Deena and I took care of lifting the moorings and slowly the barge left the small gulf sheltered by weeping willows, to sail towards the base of Hobson's Rock.
Exhausted by hunger, despite my objections, we made a quick stop in Rouen. I didn't feel like getting off the boat, but we never strayed too far and were careful not to go beyond the two-mile range of the EMPB. It was just Deena and I for less than twenty minutes and we were busy buying food to keep everyone happy, especially me. Also, Deena had the opportunity to buy some spare clothes on the fly, paid by me always amidst futile protests.
Deena was now wearing a denim outfit consisting of pants and a sleeveless jacket and a new blue shirt with yellow and red lettering. I hadn't bought anything for myself and was sticking to my dear worn-out uniform.
For most of the trip Deena sat in the shadow of the cabin wall, holding her knees with her hands on her chest and her chin resting on them. She thought perhaps about what she had left behind in Paris. Slowly she raised her gaze, which until a moment before had been glued to the floor, and looked around: Damien was concentrated at the helm, while I rested in the sun like a lizard, hands crossed under my head. She glanced at the clear summer sky and saw the first seagulls circling overhead. For a moment she felt envious of them, because they could fly freely and go where they pleased without worrying about being held back by someone or threatened by someone else. But then she remembered the fall she made in Paris from the aircraft and in a moment the desire to fly disappeared, at least for the moment. Also, homesickness was starting to set in. Evidently, she had never been so far away.
"Here are the first seagulls”, I said breaking the silence, "in a little while we will be at the mouth of the Seine and from there to the base. Then the federated state of Britannia, happy?"
"The journey is pleasant. I am in no hurry to end it. Besides...”, she replied, before freezing. There was a moment's pause, which embarrassed them both. "Everything is decided and I couldn't say anything”.
The situation was difficult and that sounded like a complaint to me. "So?".
"I don't know anything about what happens outside of Paris”, she said. "You decided to dump me in London but I don't have any money, I don't know that city! You look at me like I'm some kind of street rat who would know how to live even in dumpsters but I don't”.
My teenage limitations prevented me from understanding that fear of her fully and I focused instead on my own annoyance. "Do you really think that once we got there, I would just dump you? Do we still have a deal on who you got me for?".
"We do?".
"Of course!", I exclaimed. "London or Paris doesn't matter. And you'll have your papers. With those you'll have a year's dormancy to get a job. You'll make it. Only you'll have to... wait”.
"But my end of the bargain...”.
"You were just supposed to be bait. You didn't run, and they showed up like I wanted”, I interrupted her. "I'm the one who wasn't good enough to come out on top. It's my fault. I owe you anyway and I intend to pay it back”.
"You're such a boy scout”, she laughed. "I wonder what little place in the sun you come from?".
"It's not always this warm...”, I replied as I went back to enjoying the sunshine. "While we're here... what did you do in the city for a living?", I asked. Damien, with his yelling, had put some doubt in my mind about her.
"Gimmicks. But only if we needed money urgently. If you must know, no, I've never done any work of that kind”.
"You made that clear the first time”, I said regretfully that she felt the need to point it out again. "You needed money? And for what?".
"For everything you need money for, Daith. Meds, clothes, food, new beds, other stuff”.
"New beds?".
"Dumas and I ran an underground orphanage. I was adopted by him when I was very young”.
"Clandestine orphanages. Maintained by whom? What are they for?", I asked.
"There are associations, perfectly legal, of activists who are against forced deportation to the colonies. Officially they are just volunteer associations that manage and organize protests. But beyond that they act as a contact for funders who help people like old Dumas collect orphans to keep them safe until they come of age. Then, as soon as you have enough money, you implant them with a counterfeit ID chip and introduce them to society, with an SAI possibly. Our facility has been around for almost thirty years and we have helped hundreds of boys and girls avoid space. I would have stayed there one or two more years, lately the funds for my ID were not available yet. However, this is what happens all over the world and I will never tell you the names of our supporters if that's what you were aiming for”, Deena still didn't fully trust me and I couldn't help but agree with her. Even I didn't know if I'd be covering for her indefinitely, and anyway, it's not easy to change your mind about who wears the uniform if you spend your life running from the likes of them.
"All this to keep them from being sent to the Dominions”.
"Exactly. What Humanity does is horrible”.
"Evidently there's no choice, is there? It's sad but…”.
"There is choice instead! People should be free to choose where they live! Besides, there's room for everyone here!", she replied angrily.
"Try to think of all the misery in your town”, I tried to reason with her. "If many of them migrated to a Dominion, they would have a job, a chance to…”.
"Far from the sun! Away from the sky, from the grass, from the fresh air! From their friends and relatives! To be what? A useful cog in society? On emmerde l'Umanité!", she objected furiously.
"Let's change the subject or we'll only end up fighting”, I concluded, throwing water on the fire and lighting a cigarette. I was trying not to think about what was waiting for me when I got back but the anxiety wouldn't stop stirring my guts.
"I thought soldiers were sportsmen and they didn't smoke”.
"We're sportsmen, but we do smoke”, I huffed indifferent smoke. "Don't you see the movies?".
"Not the war ones, no”, Deena pulled over curiously. "I'll never understand people who smoke cigarettes”.
"It helps stretch my nerves”, I replied, sucking in another puff.
"That stuff kills you slowly”, she continued.
"All the better. It's not like I'm in a hurry”, I joked, hoping I wouldn't have to defend my little habit to the bitter end.
"And it makes your breath stink”, she deadpanned.
"I'll keep my mouth shut. Why don't you do the same?".
"Just in case you can't manage not to be an asshole for more than five minutes”, she said and walked away annoyed. What her problem was with my smoking was beyond me.
Kind of like when you pry into the red meat I eat.
In the meantime, the barge tried to continue its journey along the river, which had now come to an end. The sea shore was already visible and we would soon reach Hobson's Rock.
Deena returned to the bow, alerted to the event by our captain. She ran with agility and climbed over the railing, which she climbed over, holding on tightly to the handrail. As soon as the sun lit up the cerulean reflecting waves, a smile lit up her face. Her hair waved in the breeze, her silhouette thin and slender like the magnificent figurehead of an enchanted ship. An undertow wave sent the boat reeling, sending white shards of ocean everywhere to frame her enthusiastic shout.
I stood there admiring her, enraptured, for the first time in my life appreciating the time spent simply watching the wind. I thought that if everything I had been up to had led to that moment of joy, then it had been worth it.
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