Chapter Text
August 1st, 2149 CE Mount Weather The Oval Office
This pre-meeting, before the President formally briefs his Cabinet on recent developments, is ‘closed’. All cameras and recorders are switched off and no guards stand in-front of the sealed doors.
Cage turns to face his father, the President, who sits calmly behind his big-ass desk even after letting nearly fifty kids from the sky wander off into the forest.
Dante in his turn is feeling frustrated by his son’s inability to take ‘the long view’. Reports have reached the President’s ears of Cage shooting his mouth off about how disappointed he is that the President ‘pussy footed’ around the kids, letting so many ‘useful assets’ get away. So, the President of the United States of America spells it out for him.
“Cage, we have forty-five new residents of Mount Weather and they can tolerate the world outside without burning up. They’re children and yes, ideally all ninety-odd would be with us; Lord alone knows we need the new genetic material, but we could only get six of the Guard out there in time and when the youngsters started to throw themselves off the cliff rather than face another form of incarceration what would you have had me do? Shoot them? Stand by and watch while they threw themselves to their deaths? They were already shaken up when Whitman shot the boy who fired at Forshaw.” Dante sees some glimmer of understanding dawn on Cage’s sullen face, there is hope for his named successor. “It's a pity that those who chose to take to the woods won’t last long enough to regret it, most likely the savages will kill them or they’ll starve, but those who stayed with us are good,” the President’s face twists in distaste at his own words, “breeding stock.” Taking a deep breath he continues. “The girl Clarke negotiated hard, but her people were talking with their lives Cage. I made the call and I don’t regret it.” His eyes are hard, he’s not going to tolerate any debate about his decision to let some of them go, Cage can see that and there’s no point in creating more aggravation. Cage’s personal powerbase with his people, especially the military, is growing and he can wait a little longer. The President continues “Now Chung, your report; what the hell went wrong with the jamming system and what are you doing about getting our communications back up? I need something positive to tell the Cabinet.”
Cage sits back, his news is grim but nothing like as bad as Chief Engineer Kandinsky (known to everyone as Kandi) Chung’s. Chung shuffles in his chair, his fingers tap on his notepad, then he fiddles with his tie and loosens his shirt collar. “Mr President Sir, as you know our SKY-NET system constantly searches the sky for incoming hostile objects, like ships, missiles and bombs. SKY-NET was built over 100 years ago but we’ve kept it serviced and working all that time and it’s regularly tested in accordance with the manuals left by our forefathers. What is meant to happen, is that when a flying object approaches Mount Weather the system makes a choice. Either shoot it down with one of our own missiles or jam the incoming’s navigation systems. Forty-seven years ago, Sir, you gave the order for our missiles to be disconnected from SKY-NET.”
“Yes, I know what I did, we only had three missiles left after we’d used one to warn the savages off using firearms. The missiles were put onto manual launch only and jamming was the remaining automatic defence.”
Chung nods his agreement. “SKY-NET did jam the incoming ship’s navigation sir, but the ship didn’t respond. From our initial investigations, it looks as if the ship was damaged during the flight and its’ radio and electrical systems were fried. By the time we tried to jam their navigation system, it had already stopped operating, the ship was in free fall and the parachutes only deployed because their release was controlled by changes in barometric pressure. We’re lucky the ship didn’t crash into Mount Weather and do even more damage than it did. Mr President Sir.”
The President still looks annoyed. “What about repairs? Cage tells me that our communications array was badly damaged.”
“Mr President, Sir. Our external communication array and satellite dishes were destroyed. SKY-NET is offline. For information about the outside world, we have three hard-wired cameras, one each monitoring the: main door, service door and mine door. Internal coms through our WIFI network and hard-wired telephones are unaffected.”
The President stares, shock and disbelief written on his face. Chung continues, after a nervous cough. “Mr President Sir. Repairs are hindered by the fact that the sky-kid’s ship landed right on top of the array and it’s still there. That ship is a big lump Sir. It’s about ten metres square, and our aerials, dishes, receivers; well, pretty much all our SKY-NET and communications gear is crushed underneath it. Bottom line is, that if we want to know what’s going on outside, we need to send men to go out and look.”
“How long before you can rig something up? Get SKY-NET, the drones, remote cameras and the tremblers working?”
“Basic radios coms a week Sir. Everything else, three months, Mr President Sir.”
“Cage, I want men with scopes out on the peak every day, looking for more ships falling from space and have a full squad ready to go out there if we need it. Chung you’ve got one month. Best get to it. Dismissed.”
Chung almost runs out of the room, Cage looks at the chair the Chief Engineer was sitting in, he’s left a sweaty mark on the cracked leather seat. He squirms in his own, his turn for a grilling.
“Well, what’s gone wrong with Cerberus Cage? Tsing tells me the number of blood bags incoming has dropped to almost zero, so she’s had to increase the feed to those we have, to prolong their usefulness. What’s going on?”
In the Rule of Heda Lexa. Year 10. 8th Moon New. Arl’ton
Yesterday’s shooting skaifaya (star) landing on top of the Maunde (Mt Weather) in a shower of sparks, flame and smoke startled everyone. Lexa saw the dramatic arrival of the ship from her quarters in Ton DC, where she was in a meeting with Indra, Anya and Gustus. Her ability to keep a stoic face almost failed her, when she realised that Clarke had arrived and that if she lived, was likely in the hands of the Maunon (Mountain Men).
The following dawn she’s at Arl’ton, pacing across the floor of her great tent, as she tries to think her way through what little information she has and the plethora of ideas and fears that are tumbling chaotically in her head. Skaikru have arrived earlier than she expected, almost a Moon early, she thought she had more time; to prepare for the battle with the Maunon, to prepare her people for those who fall from the skai, to prepare herself for Clarke. Though if her recent dreams are anything to go by, she is more than ready for Clarke!
Isla calls from outside, “Heda, Lincoln and Wormana Anya are here.”
A mark later, two of her most trusted and a small gonakru are making their way to the Maunde. Her instructions are clear. They are to gather information about the skaifaya that fell, whilst avoiding all contact with the Maunon.
“I heard that a skaifaya fell some summers ago and that a hef (man) was inside it.”.
Lincoln agrees, revealing that he had found the hef wandering aimlessly outside the hot metal ball. He had reported back to his nontu (father), who had ordered the hef killed because he spoke and looked like the Maunon.
“I understand why your nontu gave that order Lincoln but if there are people in this skaifaya they are to be observed, not killed. I want to know about them, not make another enemy when I am so close to battle with the Maunon.”
As they leave Lexa turns away, stepping quickly back, she must hide her yearning to go with them and see Clarke as soon as possible. Her duty as Heda is not to scramble up the enemy’s stronghold in search of her past love, but to finalise her plans and ready her gonas, to take down the Maunon.
The first thing she will do today is check that everything is ready for the thousands who will be part of the annual ‘futbal tournament’. All twelve krus of the Kongeda will attend this ‘event’. Eleven of them will each send a thousand gonas disguised as players or supporters. Floukru will send players, foodstuffs and fisas (healers). Yujleda, Azgeda, Trishanakru, Ingranronakru and Louwoda Kilron have messaged that they will start their journey to Arl’ton when this moon is full.
Last summer the first futbal tournament was a great success in terms of trade and relations between krus. It also provided cover for many carts visiting the gardens at Arl’ton that during the darkest hours of the night offloaded thick steel shields, thousands of pit props and weapons.
Ever reliable, Indra has everything under control, including a plan for the well-spaced disposition of thousands of tents. Careful spacing avoids, aggravating tensions between krus and giving the Maunon a ‘good target’ for a missile strike. Reassured by her most senior wormana Lexa moves on to consider the readiness of the tunnels and finalise her tactics.
She, together with a few others, emerge at midday from an inconspicuous looking tent. They are all dressed in rough, homespun clothing; trying their best to look like gardeners (not gonas) and carrying trugs and sacks, ostensibly to harvest the beans, potatoes, carrots and marrows that are ready to be picked. Under her breath Lexa curses whoever made the trousers she’s wearing, they’re tight at the crotch, baggy everywhere else and the urge to scratch numerous itches is almost unbearable. Ontari looks like she is suffering too, the shirt she’s wearing is far too tight across the natblida’s muscled shoulders and her trousers are a twin to Lexa’s. Only Indra looks comfortable, wearing a long, belted tunic, with bare legs and sandals.
First, they pass under the dense leaf canopy provided by the coppiced hazels. The small trees are ready for harvest and youngons (youngsters) move along the rows raking the fallen nuts into piles. Hanging at the end of each row is a string hung with squirrel pelts drying in the sun and acting as a disincentive to other nut thieves. The walled gardens buzz with activity, workers are harvesting, weeding, pruning and digging over the long beds. It makes Lexa smile to see so much good food. These beds crop well, better than most gardens in Trikru. Albion, Chief of Yujleda, visited the gardens after he took the brand of the Kongeda in Polis last year and he thought that using so much soil and grit from deep underground meant that the crops did not suffer so badly from radiation.
The shed door opens on well-oiled hinges and Gustus makes his way to the front of the group, the oil lamp he lights smokes for a few moments before he closes the glass and starts to walk down the slope into the tunnel. Quint and Indra are holding lamps too, while Ontari carries a can of oil. Strik and Bigas Selene walk quietly at the back and Hellen and Jules remain on guard in the ‘garden shed’. After a few cubits the slope becomes steeper and all daylight is lost. On their left is a handrail of smoothed pine the surface of which is at intervals dimpled. If you know the code the indents tell you how far you are from the surface. Lexa’s fingers have just traced the pattern for 300 cubits when the rail ends and the slope levels out.
“We are on the ‘platform’ Heda, a guide rope is tied to the end of the rail. Today the tunnels are dark but when we are ready to bring ai gonas down here many more lanterns, torches and candles will be lit.” Gustus’ voice resonates, as if they are within a huge cavern. Lexa supposes that they are, this cave may not be natural or the result of mining for ores but it sounds just the same. As if the voice is bouncing off a distant wall before softly striking her chest. “Shall we move on?”
“Sha, (Yes) Gustus”
Outside the circles of light cast by the lanterns, is a darkness that’s heavy and solid, only occasionally does a reflection gleam, from metal, glass or water? Lexa can’t tell. Underfoot, grit crunches, but then it softens to soil and as it again changes to hard rock their footsteps become lost in the sounds of water. A stream burbles and the plink, plink, plink of water dripping onto rock is a regular rhythm.
“Gustus, where does the stream flow from?”
“A second, smaller, tunnel that joins this one Heda.” Lexa sees his lamp swinging out to the right. “About a league to the north it is dammed by a rockfall that stands taller than me. Water runs under the dam at a steady trickle and is the source of this stream that runs alongside the track all the way to Osser. The water is fresh and drinkable. When there is a storm, the flow increases and in Winter, I have seen it overtop the dam. Then we may have trouble Heda as our new tunnel is much smaller than this one and could flood quickly.”
“Keryon (Spirits) grant us a dry summer.”
“Sha, Heda!”
Lanterns swaying, the guide rope running through their fingers, they travel on. The ground is rough but level, water drips and flows, no-one speaks; it’s as if they are all trying to take in and master this unfamiliar place; listening for danger, scanning the darkness for enemies, smelling its’ damp mustiness. After Keryon knows how long there’s the glimmer of a lantern ahead and when he eventually brings them to a halt Gustus lights more to reveal a long slender cart, its’ metal wheels resting on smooth rails and four horses harnessed ready to pull it. Coll stands by the horses’ heads holding a lantern.
“How many gonas can each cart carry Gustus?”
“Forty Wormana Indra and we have four carts that can travel together. One hundred and sixty gonas per trip. It takes one mark to get to Osser and then we must walk, as the new tunnel is much narrower than this one. As we walk the three leagues to the end of the new tunnel these carts can return here to pick up more gonas. The cave at Osser is very big, two thousand gonas could wait there, ready to attack the Maunon.”
They step up onto the cart and when all are seated Coll climbs aboard, makes a soft clucking noise and the horses start to pull away. It’s a strange sensation, the smooth glide is very different from travelling the Kongeda’s roads by cart. Then, the jolting of wheels striking stones or dropping into ruts is almost constant. Here, apart from some metallic clangs and the rhythmic clicking of hooves, there’s almost no sense of motion. Lexa could almost believe they were standing still if there wasn’t a breeze ruffling her hair. Nothing is visible beyond the lanterns’ light, just blackness and a sense of mass and things that are there, but unseen. “What is there within this cave Gustus?”
“Many great but broken machines, Heda.”
August 3rd, 2149 CE Mount Weather Medical Centre
The slight woman, wavy black hair cascading over her shoulders, wears a white coat and a serious expression as she walks towards the group of young people who wait anxiously for news. “You can see him now. He’s awake but sleepy. He lost a lot of blood but the transfusions are helping him.”
“Is he going to be, okay?” This is Octavia, pushing to the front.
“I hope so.” The woman gives a small smile of reassurance.
“Let’s go in Octavia and see how he’s doing.” Clarke heads for the door, Octavia and Jasper follow.
Bellamy’s lying in a hospital bed, covered with clean white sheets and a white bandage is wrapped around his shoulder. There are monitors stuck to his chest and clipped to his fingers, a drip of what looks like saline hangs above his bed and a blood line emerges from his right arm. When Octavia runs over to him whispering “Bell, Bell!” the boy stirs and his eyes open.
“Hey O!” His voice is sticky and slurred.
The siblings talk quietly for a while, so Jasper and Clarke give them some privacy by standing back and looking at the handwritten charts hanging on a rail at the end of the bed. Jasper thumbs through a clipboard and whispers “Do you know what this stuff means Clarke?”
Clarke hums and looks away from the chart she’s been reading, casually dropping it back onto the rail. She stretches and rolls her neck, taking in the room and soon spots a small camera high in the corner of the ceiling. She shakes her head. “No Jas, it’s all Greek to me.”
Walking round the bed to stand beside Octavia Clarke leans over the patient. “Hi Bellamy, how are you feeling? Are they treating you well?”
Jasper’s there too, breaking in with; “did they give you chocolate cake?”
Bellamy’s smile is weak. “Chocolate cake – no I missed that. I’ve only just come round. O tells me I missed the thrills of decontamination too.”
Jasper waxes lyrical about chocolate cake and how it almost made, the scrubbing, laxatives and paper clothing of decontamination worth it. But not quite. After a few more minutes the woman, who introduces herself a little stiffly to Octavia as Dr Tsing, returns to tell them they must leave. “Your brother needs to rest Octavia. Come and see him tomorrow.”
They head back to the rec room where Wells, Monty, Fox and Bree are waiting for their news. The others are either in their dorms or on a tour of Mount Weather. “Let’s get a cup of tea.” They trail over to a kitchenette that consists of, a sink, kettle, empty boxes of biscuits and some dirty mugs. Wells grumbles about messy kids as he starts to wash up. Clarke looks fondly at her dearest friend.
“You’ll make some lucky girl a wonderful wife Wells!” That’s Jasper, stepping into the absent Murphy’s role as tease.
“Piss off, Jasper!” Is Wells’ terse reply. It really hacks him off that washing up is something no-one else does.
Tea in hand Clarke leans against the wall. She deliberately refills the kettle and sets it to boil. Her friends watch with growing concerns, that are confirmed, when the kettle boils and Clarke’s finger remains on the power button, the kettle continues to boil - noisily.
“Octavia you must stay calm as I tell you this. Bell’s life is at stake and if you sound off, he could die.” Octavia’s mouth drops open, then closes. She licks her lips before giving Clarke a shallow nod. “Something is seriously wrong here. Tsing is lying. The charts on his bed are not ordinary medical charts, they are records of an experiment they are conducting with Bellamy as the test subject and worst of all they aren’t giving him fluids to make up for blood lost when he was shot. They’re giving him plasma because they’re taking blood out of him. That’s why he’s dopey and so pale.”
“What?” That’s Jasper.
“But he’s had blood transfusions, we saw the tube of blood Clarke.”
“Octavia that tube ran to a blood bag below the bed, that was slowly filling up with Bellamy’s blood. If they were transfusing blood into him the bag would be hanging on the rail above his bed, like the bag of plasma.” Wide, scared, angry eyes bore into her and Clarke feels the responsibility for negotiating that some of them came willingly into this place drop heavily onto her shoulders. She must get her people out of here. “Okay, I want ideas about how to keep Bell and all of us safe. And we need to explore this place, looking for a safe place to meet and for ways out. The map we’ve been given doesn’t even show the entrance they used to bring us in.”
“Shall we tell the others?” Asks Monty.
Clarke releases the power button as she shakes her head. “Not everyone, maybe Dax and Atom. They seem sceptical about the people in here.”
August 3rd, 2149 CE The Ark - Operations Room for Project Ground
Callie holds her friend while she cries sobs that shake her frame to the core. Clarke’s signal went dark a few hours after they guesstimate the dropship landed. Wells’ signal went dark too and the doctor, already exhausted by; the long surgery on Jaha, her subsequent arrest and near execution for excessive use of anaesthesia, broke down when she was told that over forty of the signals had blinked out simultaneously, including Clarke’s.
Kane, still the Chancellor pro-tem as Jaha is not fit to return to work after being shot, walks into the operations centre and stares, almost mindlessly, at the monitors. So many are dark, yet others blink bluey white as ever changing figures spool across the screens. He turns to the woman he almost executed. “What’s going on doctor? Another five wristbands stopped sending signals this morning. Is it radiation, accidents, wild animals? What’s happening down there?”
Abby chokes down her tears. “It’s not radiation, it doesn’t present that way. The first few were likely accidents on the way down or on landing. The forty or so that just stopped, I don’t know. Those that are still ‘live’, are exhausted and hungry.”
Kane huffs and walks out of the room. Callie gives Abby’s shoulder a reassuring rub before standing and walking towards the side wall. She taps on a vent cover. “You can come out now, whoever you are. We’re not going to tell Kane or the Guard.”
The vent cover drops with a clatter. “What the fuck is happening doctor G? Where’s Finn, Clarke, Jonny and the others? That stupid story about a virus in the Sky Box is …” Raven almost topples out of the vent in her fury and when she finally gets herself upright the urge to hug Abby is almost overwhelming.
Callie suggests they all go to her quarters for a bit of privacy and to talk things through. “No way!” says Raven. “Your place and Abby’s are bugged. You’ve not got any privacy. Jaha’s had you bugged for over a year, how d’you think they found out about Mr Griffin wanting to broadcast about the oxygen problem? When he died and they put Clarke in the Sky Box I thought it through. Then I hacked their systems and discovered that Jaha, Shumway and Kane authorised ‘Level 5’ security surveillance on you two, Clarke and Jake. Your every move was watched. Work, home, leisure activities – the lot! He’s that close” her fingers pinch “to bringing charges of treason against you Ms Cartwigg, as the ringleader of a ‘terrorist’ group.” Stunned silence greets her words. “Where are they? Finn, Clarke, Wells and the others?”
“On the ground. Everyone in the Sky Box was sent to the ground.”
“What!”
“Look at the screens Raven, nearly fifty are still ‘live’. Finn and Jonny are with them.”
“Clarke? Wells?”
Callie replies. “Their sensors went dark a couple of days ago. We don’t know why. Kane and Jaha are preparing to float three hundred volunteers. They think, that without radio confirmation that the ground is survivable and with so many sensors going dark, it’s not safe to take us all down.”
Raven looks at the screens “The radio’s probably fritzed. That can happen. No way are the prince and princess gone Abby. Those two will survive……… and remember you sent a hundred delinquents down there to die, if you told them not to do something, like ‘don’t take off those wristbands’, some of them will do it, just to spite you.”
The door to the operations room swings open and Major Grace Byrne strides in. Raven tenses, she’s not supposed to be here, the vent cover is still open, so it’s obvious that she’s….
“This place is just as bugged as anywhere else Raven. Lucky for you it was me listening in today.” The Major pulls out of her pocket a small box and the mechanic recognises one of her own jammers. “You’re all on Jaha’s list. Saving his life cut you a bit of slack Abby but Kane and Shumway are closing in on you two.” She gestures at Callie and Raven.
“Fuck.” There’s silence as the seriousness of their situation sinks in. “We need to get out of here and there’s only one place to go. Down! There’s an old escape pod, in the disused part of Orchid Station. It can take six in suits. I’ve been getting it ready for months, another day and it’ll be good to go.” She looks at the three of them. “Did you really think Finn, Jonny, Jasper, Monty and Clarke were going to be allowed to live past eighteen?”
“We were going to try and…”
“All of them? Can you honestly say that you could save them all? Even Finn, just another Factory Station kid who fucked up and lost us months’ worth of oxygen! He just wanted me to have some fun on my birthday!” The three older women look uncertain as tears starts to trickle down Raven’s cheek.
“I thought not, so I acted. I found a pod and fixed it; my plan was to break them out of the Sky Box and for all of us to go to the ground. There we’d have some chance of a life. But you sent them there without me! I’m going, I’m going to the ground. If you want to come with me, get yourselves to Orchid Station Quadrant 4 tomorrow at midnight.”