The Retreat (The After Trilogy Book 1) (11 page)

And the homes looked too . . . pristine to be empty. But if the low houses were full. . . .

What were the odds that every single battler that had ever crashed on Earth ended up in this exact place?

The dead weight in her stomach grew heavier.

Romy scouted ahead, creeping towards the taller buildings. There were three of them, arranged in a semi-circle with the tallest in the middle. All were much larger than any of the homes she’d passed thus far.

A flickering caught her eye. To her right was some kind of pixelated black and white hologram. It rose up from a small black box bolted into the ground. The pictures on it were rotating, like a slide-show; pictures of families laughing, of the young helping the elderly, and of children holding hands. Romy blinked in alarm as a message flashed across in large letters, ‘Take Less Than You Need’. The images the projection showed were happy, but for some reason it felt sinister. What was the projection for? And what did the message mean?

She tore her eyes from the hologram and looked up at the building she’d stopped in front of—the tallest one, in the middle. There was something about it which gave her pause. It felt like a point of no return. What would she do once she reached them? Look in the windows? Open a door? Or should she retreat—with a little more knowledge—until Atlas revealed his true motives?

Romy never got a chance to make that decision.

A siren blared overhead. All around her. Romy brought her hands up, spinning around to locate the alarm.

The sound came from speakers under the roof hangings.

Someone must have seen her!

Still covering her ears, Romy froze as a middle-aged woman exited one of the wooden homes. The sirens cut off abruptly. In the lack of sound Romy heard the thunderous thudding of her heart. The woman hadn’t seen her yet, occupied with carrying a basket of clothing.

Not breaking her gaze from the approaching Earth human, Romy edged backwards. She never should have left cover, she realised.

She was in plain sight, dead-centre in the clearing.

The woman glanced up. Romy stilled and saw her do the same, surprise etched upon her weathered face.

For a long drawn out second neither moved. But Romy couldn’t help feeling the dark-haired older woman was having the exact same reaction as she—utter confusion.

She dropped her basket suddenly, jaw dropping open.

Romy tensed to run.

She could outdistance the woman. She would go back to her friends and—

Her frantic plans fell flat as the crucial piece of the puzzle she’d been missing finally revealed itself.

Atlas has Deimos.
That was why the doors were unlocked.
That
was why everything was too easy. They had her friend. Atlas knew she wouldn’t leave without her knot mate!

Romy shuffled one foot back as the woman took a step forwards.

The expression in her eyes was unnerving. It was as if she’d seen something impossible. Her demeanour was . . . strange. It raised the hairs on the back of Romy’s neck.

She was so focused on the woman that it took the slamming of several doors to alert her to the presence of others.

She broke away from the woman’s intense stare and looked to the right, jumping at how many people had appeared in the short time.

She whirled at a scraping behind her. More of them! Romy stumbled away—back towards the foreboding buildings. But the buildings were no longer there. Gone was the flashing hologram projection. There were only people. Too many people! All staring. All with the same dumbfounded expression on their faces.

Why were they looking at her like that?

Romy turned back to the woman and screamed upon discovering her much closer than anticipated. Romy stood motionless, taking in the woman’s shining tears. The unfamiliar grey streaks threading her hair.

She stretched a wrinkled hand towards Romy. Romy drew her shoulder back so the fingers didn’t connect. The woman kept her arm reached out as Romy jerked back.

The old Earth-human eyes were wide, as if with fever. And finally she spoke, the sound crackling and low.

“Thank you for your sacrifice.”

R
omy processed the word “sacrifice” through numbed senses.

It was like the browned, reverential group had been waiting for a cue. They started shuffling forwards. Romy searched for a weapon—something to protect herself. But what was the point? She was trained in
space warfare
. She shot guns and picked up debris; she didn’t fight with her fists!

And then a firm body was at her back.

Romy shrieked and threw her hands at her attacker’s face. But then one strong arm was about her waist and the other was clamped across her chest, pinning her flailing arms.

She couldn’t get away!

Tilting her head back, Romy stared up. Her wide-eyed panic instantly recognised the grey eyes above her. She glared at Atlas. Had this been his plan the whole time?

To lead Knot 27 into a trap?

Romy summoned every insult available to her and prepared to unleash them. She couldn’t move, but she was damned if she’d be dragged to her death in silence! What was he going to do to her? What was she being sacrificed for?

“Romy!”

She looked towards the scream, heart sinking as she sighted the rest of her knot racing towards her.
No!

“Run!” The scream ripped from her throat. Romy wrenched aside to dislodge the iron arms around her. But it was just as futile as the first time they’d met.

How had he fooled her so completely?

Her friends weren’t running. They were fighting their way towards her, she realised. She silently begged them to go the other way; to escape.

The large presence behind her sighed, snapping orders to someone out of sight.

“Restrain them. Now,” he said.

“Don’t hurt them,” she pleaded. “Please, Atlas. Please don’t harm my knot.”

Atlas spun her to face him, gripping her firmly. An unfathomable expression bore into her as she felt a stabbing pinch at the side of her neck. Romy blinked slowly, not looking away from the traitor in front of her as her head began to droop.

Her last thought was to wonder how she’d ever thought his hard eyes were gentle.

* * *

H
eated voices drew Romy from troubled dreams.

“How much did you give her?” a low voice growled.

Romy’s eyebrows drew together as her head swam. She groaned and cracked her eyes open.

Before her was a sight too confusing to deal with. She closed her eyes again.

She listened as Thrym spoke. “She just takes a little longer to get up. It will be worse because you knocked her out.”

What?

Romy shot up, instantly regretting the speed as her head spun wildly.

“The situation was out of control. You were supposed to stay put until I had a chance to brief you.”

She turned to the speaker. Atlas. Romy struggled to remove herself from the blankets as the bent woman’s voice floated through her mind:
sacrifice.

“Rosemary. Stop,” Atlas commanded.

“Do
not
call me that.” She shot him a withering glare, ignoring him and standing anyway. “You traitor.”

There were two exits, and fewer people here. Only her knot, Atlas, and one other young man in a lab coat. He looked like the doctors on Orbito One.

“Give me a chance to—”

Romy ignored his request. Her knot could overcome both of the other men. She looked to her friends to give a signal to attack.

And stopped in her tracks.

Because in her half-awake state she hadn’t truly assessed the situation.

The others were unrestrained and . . . calm for the first time in days. Elara was leaning against a wall, arms crossed over her chest. Thrym was bleeding from a cut on his head, but his tension came from his concern for Romy. And Phobos . . . he didn’t look like anything was wrong with him at all. They looked at
her
with concern.

Her voice cracked. “Thrym, what’s going on?”

Sympathy burnt in Thrym’s gaze as he stepped forwards and took her into his arms. He spoke, matter-of-fact, as always. “We don’t know. But we’ve been assured of our safety.”

He looked at Atlas. And she knew that Thrym wasn’t fooled either.

“I’m so sorry I led you into this. But Deimos. . . .” The rest of her words were lost as the lump in her throat rose into tears.

“Shush, Romy. Whatever this is, it isn’t your fault,” Thrym soothed.

He was just being nice, she thought. She didn’t deserve his unwavering support. The Commander of Orbito One himself could say it and Romy still wouldn’t believe it was true.

“Why do I feel so weird?” She spoke quietly. The room was spinning, and she clung to Thrym, swaying on her feet.

Atlas approached and Romy swatted his helping hands away. She’d rather fall to the ground.

After a few dizzy beats, the room began to right itself. She glared up at the man in front of her.

Her first lesson on Earth: Don’t trust anyone.

“I trusted you.” The accusation in the sentence was clear. She had trusted him. Trusted him with herself. But more than that, she had trusted him enough that she’d placed Deimos’s life in his hands.

“I was letting you rest,” he replied softly. “I haven’t had a chance to speak to the settlement about your presence.” His tone grated. “Now you’ve created a mess that I will need to fix.”

Romy’s eyes widened incredulously, mouth dropping open.

Atlas fixed his gaze on the doctor. “
Someone
was meant to be watching the shed.”

The doctor, who looked little more than five years older than herself, shrugged. “You gotta go when you gotta go.”

Elara pushed off the wall. “Well, I, for one, would really like to know
what the hell is going on
. Now,” she snapped. Phobos stepped beside her, supporting her without words.

All four of them turned the heaviness of their stares on the man who had the answers.

Atlas surveyed the group, unfazed, and clasped his hands behind his back. It was a soldier’s pose. That was what didn’t make sense. If he was from Earth, why did he stand like a soldier? How did he know so much about the Orbitos? And if he
was
from the Orbitos, what was happening? Why were there so many people here? Had the humans survived after all?

And why did he not tell her this? Why did he lie?

Romy stood, fist clenched at her sides. She’d never been so angry, nor felt so violent in her life. “Tell us.”

Atlas stopped before her.

“Why did the woman call me a ‘sacrifice’?”

A smile cracked on his face. Romy blinked at him. That wasn’t the reaction she was expecting. A wheezing noise came from behind Atlas.

She peered past Atlas and saw the doctor had his fist shoved in his mouth and was . . . crying. Tears streamed from his eyes. She shared a baffled look with Phobos.

Atlas smoothed the smirk from his face with one hand and rubbed the back of his head. The wheezing continued behind him.

“I can see how Meredith’s words could be construed that way,” Atlas started.

The wheezing behind him turned to howling laughter.

Atlas coughed and glanced back. “Houston, give us a moment.”

“S-sure.”

The doctor left them through one of the nearby exits. They listened to his laughter recede down the hall.

“Follow me,” Atlas commanded.

He didn’t wait to see if they would follow. It was almost exactly like the first time he’d said the words to her. He was arrogant enough to expect her knot would just stand and shadow him. And Elara and Phobos did.

She looked to Thrym, who stared back at her. Steel passed between them. There were only four people she trusted in the world, and Thrym she trusted more than any other.

“There’s only one way we’re getting information,” he muttered.

Romy sighed and trailed after her friends.

Atlas didn’t take them far. Not even out of the building. Romy assumed they were in one of the important buildings.

They crossed down a hallway to a room full of tables and benches. All of the furniture faced the front, kind of like a more informal orbito lecture theatre. He waved the four space soldiers to the front row, not making any move to sit himself.

Atlas ignored Romy’s friends for the most part, watching her closely. And Romy had absolutely no idea what he was searching for. She couldn’t glean anything from his body language at all.

She found her voice when he looked at Thrym, who entered behind her. “What happened out there? Why did the woman call me a sacrifice?”

Atlas leaned forwards and gave her a flat look. Romy imagined he might sigh if the situation wasn’t so tense.

“First, you need to be aware I can’t tell you everything. I must seek clearance from my superiors. The information is classified,” he started. His eyes flashed as he said the words.

“That’s poacher poop!” Romy spat out. “We deserve to know everything.”

“And yet you can’t. Because the knowledge will force you all into a certain life. One you won’t understand the consequences of right now.”

“How are there humans living on Earth?” Phobos demanded.

Atlas didn’t seem the least bit phased by Phobos’s outburst. He stared at the knot dispassionately.

“No more lies.” Romy implored him with her eyes to tell them something.

Indecision marred his face.

“Atlas,” she said softly. “We need a reason to trust you.”

She
needed a reason to trust him.

Resolve lit his dark eyes and Atlas spoke as if the words were being dragged from his mouth. “When Meredith thanked you for your sacrifice, she was thanking you because, to her, to everyone here, you
have
made a sacrifice.”

Romy stared at Atlas, not understanding.

He closed his eyes briefly. It was nothing really, just a long blink. But Romy noticed nevertheless.

“You choose to live on the orbitos, protecting Earth,” he said finally.

“Choose to?” Elara echoed.

Thrym rose to his feet. “It’s not a choice,” he said slowly. “We must protect Earth until we can return. Once it is safe for human life. . . .” Thrym trailed off, having seen the contradicting evidence since setting foot on land.

The truth was clear in Atlas’s stone-grey eyes.

It was like someone had let go of a stretched rubber band in her mind. Pain stabbed at Romy’s temples. The terrible thought she’d had the day before. . . .

“It’s a lie,” Romy said hoarsely. “The orbitos . . . everything . . . it’s all a lie.”

Elara gasped and rocketed from her chair. Phobos and Thrym were yelling at Atlas, demanding answers. Romy covered her ears, trying to process it all, wishing one of her other theories had been right instead.

Any theory would have been better. That life on Earth had continued somehow, and the Orbitos were unaware because of lost communication. That a few of the knots had deserted to live down here. That Atlas was telling the truth at the beginning. That the researchers were lying to High Command. She would have preferred any of those to what Atlas had just confirmed.

Never once had she suspected her entire existence was based on a lie.

“Did global warming even happen?” she choked. The others turned to her, but she couldn’t peel her eyes from Atlas.

The man, Houston, had re-joined them at some point. The doctor nodded at Atlas and stood against the only exit. Romy wasn’t sure if that was a purposeful move, or not.

Atlas turned his attention back to her knot. “You must promise to never repeat what I tell you. No one, other than Houston, myself, and a few select others know what I’m about to impart. Do you understand? You do not speak of it to anyone outside this room. Better if you don’t speak of it ever again.”

Romy nodded along with the others. But something in one, or all, of their expressions didn’t satisfy Atlas.

He approached, dark hair flopping forwards as he loomed over the knot. Romy shivered at the cruelty on his face.

Every inch of his face was carved from rock, inflexible and sincere. “I don’t threaten idly. If any of you speaks of this, your entire knot will die, including your friend who is currently recovering. And not by my hand.” He waited and then added, “And don’t forget, I didn’t have to tell you anything.”

She could tell the others’ reactions were as mixed as her own. In one sentence he had given them hope and crushed them with fear.

“We understand you completely,” Romy said coolly.

“Good.” He met her angry gaze with unflinching calm. “It would be a shame for Deimos to be killed when he’s just reclaimed his life.”

He studied the wall behind them. “There are three things you need to know. One, global warming has come and gone and humankind survived it.”

Air left Romy’s body in a whoosh. He’d said it so casually. Without care or warning. Every breath she’d
breathed
, global warming hadn’t just existed. It had been fact. It was the sole foundation for all they did. Their ancestors had ruined the world. They’d learned too late. The lessons, the history, the nano-libraries full of material. It wasn’t possible for everything she knew to be fabricated. . . .