Kristi Helvig - Burn Out

Britta opened her mouth to respond. Her gaze flicked to James and she shut it again. Finally, she sighed. “No big deal. Just sayin’ it could have gone better is all.”

James stared coolly at Britta. “She risked her life out there.”

Kale raised an eyebrow at James, then turned to me. “You’re quite the soldier. I’m impressed, Tora.”

I shrugged. “They were close to hitting your ship and I wanted to save it.” All heads swiveled in my direction. “I knew if the ship was compromised, we’d have no chance of getting out of here. So I thought I’d run out real quick and blow them up.”

Kale laughed. Britta scoffed but otherwise remained silent.

Markus smiled like a proud parent. “I told you she was a tough one.” Then he pointed at the metal wall. “I hate to be the voice of reason, but if any of those burners lived through the crash, I’m thinking not having a door could be problematic.”

He was right, nothing would stop a bomb from being thrown inside. But they’d have to be able to walk to do it.

Kale grabbed his helmet. “Britta, suit up, and guard the opening. Call me on the com if anything looks suspicious.”

If you asked me, Britta was the thing that looked suspicious. But no one asked me. She glared at Kale like he was a moron. “Where the hell are you going? And why the hell aren’t we just moving the guns and getting out of here?”

Kale spoke calmly, as though bringing down government ships was something he did before breakfast each day. “Because we need to make sure they’re all dead. Hopefully the crash knocked out their com system and there won’t be any help on the way.”

“It’s standard military procedure,” James added. A mix of anger and sadness crossed his face as he spoke the words.

“We’ll move the guns,” Kale said sharply. “But we also have to salvage all spare parts we can from their ship … and we have to finish off any survivors. Do you think you can handle this, Britta?” His face burned with contempt and I knew he was referencing her earlier defiance.

I stared at Kale in disbelief. “You mean, if someone over there is injured, you’re just going to shoot them dead? I’d hope we could be more civil than that.”

Kale squared his shoulders. “Hope is for pansies who can’t shoot straight.”

“No enemy survivors left alive. It’s protocol.” James spit out the words.

Kale’s voice was flat. “Trust me. They’d do the same to us.”

I believed him. I mean it wasn’t like the Consulate came waving peace signs at us, but I just didn’t get it. With so few human survivors in existence, everyone still insisted on the “us versus them” mentality. It would probably stay that way until the last human fizzled out. Markus was right that I didn’t think we deserved the chance to mess up another planet.

Britta still wore a sour expression on her face, but I’d begun to think it was the only one she had. Kale tipped Britta’s chin upward. Maybe he meant it in an encouraging way, but it looked menacing to me. “Buck up, soldier. We’ll be out of here soon.”

Kale would go to his ship to make any necessary repairs and reinstall the fuel converter, while Britta, James, and Markus guarded the shelter door and watched for trouble.

“Oh, one more thing,” Kale said before he left. He touched the device on his forearm. “I want everyone’s com devices left on from here on out.”

Britta looked quizzical. “Why?”

Kale seemed to weigh his response before answering. “We need to be able to hear one another at all times. What if something happens while we’re separated?”

James flipped his device on immediately. “Yes, sir. Good idea.”

I couldn’t decide if Kale did this because he didn’t trust Britta, or because he didn’t trust me, but I knew for sure that it had nothing to do with his concern for our well-being. He just wanted to hear what was said at all times. Britta and Markus turned on their devices, and it made me glad I didn’t have one myself.

After Kale left, I excused myself and said I needed to gather my things. This was it. I was leaving this place forever. The place I’d considered home for half my life. Memories of my family, the good and the bad, wouldn’t come as easily without the familiar reminders of the shelter around me.

I only had one more chance to visit my favorite room, so I headed down the hall. Even after all this time, the presence of my father was strong in the room. The study held a feeling of safety and comfort. I sat at his work station, running my hand along the smooth surface. The desk reminded me of him. Silent and strong constitution. The contents of the desk were neat and orderly, his work space meticulous. I’d briefly riffled through his things after he died, yet felt like I was violating his privacy even in death. Color-coded tablets were stacked in one drawer. I’d looked through the secret, plastic tablets after his death, but they mainly involved notes about the bioenergetic weapons. Most people had long ago shunned notebooks in favor of energetic devices, but my father knew you couldn’t hack a notebook the same way you could an e-device—the Consulate would have to physically find it first.

The last time I’d been in this room with him was the day before he left for his last Consulate meeting. He’d been in there for hours, and when I knocked on the door he hadn’t answered. Worried, I’d opened the door and found him sitting at his station with his head in his hands. The tablets were spread out everywhere.

“Dad?” I’d asked. “Everything okay?”

“Come in, Tora. I want to tell you something.”

The tone in his voice sounded worried and sad. I didn’t detect any of the confidence he’d had when he’d taken me to the Consulate meeting in the pod city.

“Do you see these books? All my years of work are contained in them—everything about bioenergetic weapons that you’d ever want to know.” He took his arm and swiped the tablets onto the floor. “And I’m ashamed of them. I wish I’d listened to my gut instead of the Consulate propaganda. I’m so sorry. You must think so little of me.”

“No, Dad. I think you’re so strong. It takes a lot of guts to stand up to the government.” Even though I still had no clue what the Consulate intended to do with the weapons, I wasn’t used to seeing Dad like this. He was usually so stoic and calm. I picked up the tablets and set them on the edge of the station.

He reached out and gave me an awkward pat on the arm. “Thank you. Remember how strong you are, Tora. Don’t ever forget that, no matter how hard things are.”

I smiled and put my arm around him. “Come on, Dad. We have a dying sun and barely any air or water. How much worse could things get?”

If I’d only known at the time. I picked up a random tablet and leafed through it. It wouldn’t be good to leave these behind. This one contained detailed descriptions about how to rekey a trigger panel to a different vibration. Pages of equations filled other pages. Equations I didn’t understand, nor wanted to, but knew they’d be of interest to the Consulate. Not that I wanted to bring the tablets with me either. Too easy for them to fall into enemy hands—or Kale’s. I wasn’t sure which option was worse. I decided I’d use the natural resources around me to my advantage. I’d burn them.

When I set the stack of tablets atop the desk, one stood out, different than the rest. The one that I’d stuffed deep in the drawer because the sight of it caused me pain. Instead of a red, yellow, or green color, it was mauve. My mother’s journal. She had to have been the only person left in the world that still used a diary. She’d started using it after we’d moved to the bunker, after she’d become a ghost of her former self. She kept it mostly to herself, hidden, which I guess was the point. I found it after Dad died and thought reading it might help me understand the great sadness she carried. The first few pages broke my heart so much that I couldn’t go on. I’d put it away where it couldn’t hurt me anymore.