"Imamu," she whispered. "How do I open the door?"
"Kkk?.." he was trying to talk, but whatever was causing the interference made it impossible for her to hear him.
"Imamu?" she asked. Then she turned to Achieng. "Do you know of anyone that could help me open the door? I can stop the people from the upper decks from coming down by telling them it was me that did it, if they even notice."
"I will go find out," Achieng said.
"Kkkk?" Imamu tried again. "Kkkk?.ch...ch...ch."
White Rabbit frowned. What could he be trying to say?
She looked down at her bag and began to dig around. What tools did she have that could help?
The multi-tool jumped into her hand first. She pulled out a few of the different options it offered, and tried to jiggle them around the door handle. It didn't work. Then she tried a few different sized screwdrivers. Finally, her hand wrapped around the massive wrench Mac had given her in the prison.
She pulled it out and looked at it thoughtfully. It certainly couldn't pick the lock? but what if...
She raised it up over her head and brought it down with a huge smash. The door, made from some type of plastic, crumpled. Again she brought the wrench down. The plastic cracked. A third time opened a hole big enough for her to stick her arm through. She reached through and unlocked the door. It swung open.
***
The moment White Rabbit stepped into that room was a moment that she reflected on many times throughout the duration of her life. The scene in front of her spoke of centuries of technology built up and then torn down again in an instant. Like a scene from an old vid-deck, or a perfect replica of an old ship, this room reminded White Rabbit of every history class she had ever endured, every lecture from her father she had ever listened to, every piece of propaganda her government had ever fed her.
The main console in the center of the room hummed. The platform blinked with little green lights. The computer screens that took up every inch of wall space blinked the words: "Virus Terminated. Virus Terminated." A fine layer of dust covered every flat surface.
White Rabbit stepped forward, trying carefully to not disturb anything. She continued to look around, her eyes taking in the old-style chairs placed at the sub consoles, the strange tubing that surrounded the platform, and the massive, old-style magnets that rose up and spun around the teleportation unit.
Something had happened here. Something had been paused in mid-moment.
This was history. This was beautiful. This was forbidden.
She took another step in.
"Imamu?" she whispered.
This time there was no sound. No crackling, no whispers, no sense that he could even hear her.
Slowly, she made her way into the center of the room. The hot wire powered the console and all of the computers. When the machine was running, she bet they drew a lot more than 80 amps. More like 8,000.
In order to cut the line, she would need to turn off the equipment in this room. No explosions, Mac had said.
She stopped in front of the main console and gazed at the screen. Bright red letters flashed, "PROGRAM IN OPERATION." Below the screen were four buttons. Each read: ALLOW PROGRAM, CANCEL PROGRAM, SHUT DOWN, and PAUSE. The PAUSE button glowed green.
White Rabbit looked around the room. This seemed to be the main draw for all the power. So, closing her eyes and holding her breath, she hit the SHUT DOWN button. She froze and began to count. Ten? nine? eight? seven?
Fifteen second passed. She opened one eye. A message on the screen said, "CONSOLE CANNOT BE SHUT DOWN WHILE PROGRAM IS IN OPERATION."
She thought for a moment and then reached out and hit, "CANCEL PROGRAM."
A different message appeared on the screen. This one read, "ARRIVAL IN PROGRESS. PROGRAM CANNOT BE CANCELLED."
Only two buttons remained: PAUSE and ALLOW PROGRAM, and the PAUSE button was already blinking. That left her only one choice. Before hitting it, Rabbit looked around the room again for an emergency shut down button or a plug, but there was nothing to be seen.
Then, without thinking about it too hard, White Rabbit reached out and hit ALLOW PROGRAM.
Immediately a new message appeared on the screen: "PROGRAM ALLOWED. PROGRAM COMMENCING." Below the message, numbers began counting down from thirty. A loud roaring filled the room as the machine fired up. White Rabbit covered her ears. Panels on the floor folded back, and all around the platform a huge glass wall rose up, creating a clear barrier. The magnets lowered and began to spin.
White Rabbit could feel her hands begin to shake again. She swallowed and began to step backwards away from the machine. She stopped as she ran into something? or someone. Behind her, Achieng stood, breathing heavily and sweating. Her wide eyes gazed up at the machine as it whirred and growled.
Behind Achieng, Hippos began to appear, slowly crowding into the room, each covering their ears and watching with intense curiosity and mild fear as the machine worked.
When White Rabbit turned back, colours and shapes swirled like a hurricane inside the glass dome. The movement was so rapid, her eyes could barely follow it and her brain, trying to comprehend what she saw, was even farther behind.
Then, for a moment, everything turned a cloudy grey and the roaring stopped.
The respite was temporary though, as another whirring started up, and the grey smoke that filled the dome was slowly sucked out.
In front of them, a man kneeled on the floor, hands covering his head, crying.
Slowly, the dome lowered. The panels moved back into place. The computer screens cleared.
White Rabbit's hands shook harder than a lamp in an earthquake. She stepped back, once again bumping into Achieng.
"Go," whispered Achieng. "Talk to him."
"I? I?" White Rabbit was so scared, she couldn't even formulate the word "No."
"Go," Achieng urged. "Go."
She gave White Rabbit a shove, and White Rabbit stumbled forward, directly into the path of his eyes as he looked up from his bent position.
Blue eyes. Deep blues, swirling like the pictures of Earth oceans, piercing like the full Moon on a clear night.
"White Rabbit?" the man whispered.
"Imamu?" she asked, shocked. She rushed forward and took his hands in hers. "Where were you?"
"Trapped," he replied. "I was trapped in the teleport, stuck for centuries. You saved me."
"You didn't know where you were."
"I didn't know where I was," he replied, tears rolling down his cheeks. "But I do now."
"Oh Great One," Achieng said reverently, stepping forward and bowing low. "Welcome back to the land of the living."
Imamu swallowed once and then stood straight up, adjusting his very old military uniform and wiping away the tears.
"First," he said, looking out at the Hippos, "I want to say thank you. You," he gestured toward Achieng, "and all of you," he gestured towards the rest of the Hippos standing there, "and all of your ancestors, are what have made my life bearable for the last few centuries. I knew you, spoke with you, watched as you lived your lives as I could not. And for that, I thank you."
"And you," he turned to White Rabbit, "have saved me from the worst prison any human can suffer. I owe you my life." He kneeled, in the old style, and kissed White Rabbit's hand, which was trembling, shaking. The Hippos began to talk and laugh and cheer.
"I? I? I?" she whispered.
Imamu laughed at her stutter, but it was a kind laugh, sympathetic to her plight. After all, he knew her better than anyone had ever known her. She had told him all of her secrets, all of her hopes and desires, all of her best and her worst thoughts. All because she thought he was a ghost.
"WHITE RABBIT," a voice roared over the noise of the Hippos. She spun around to see Mac standing there holding a flashlight and a gun. "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?" Behind him, a cohort of soldiers marched in, aiming their weapons at the Hippos.
"Get down on the ground!" one of the officers barked.
r /> Slowly, one by one, each of the Hippos began to kneel. White Rabbit took a step back away from Mac, and stumbled, falling into Imamu's arms. He caught her, and then looked up with feigned innocence.
"Sir! Have you received word? The Otieno Virus has been cured! My father created it," a sad look crossed his face, "but I found the code and was able to write another program to wipe out the virus! Admiral Zuri sent me here to help you fix your systems."
"Sir," the commander of the cohort stated, "Admiral Zuri died over 500 years ago."
"500 years?" Imamu exclaimed. "But I've just stepped out of the teleport! I just left the Kiboko fleet."
The commander stared at him for a moment. "Who are all these people?"
Imamu looked at them for a second and then said, "Why, they are my friends? I think. My memory is very faint, but? I think they guided me here."
"Guided you?" The officer looked incredulous.
"But it was her," Imamu put White Rabbit on her feet again, "she saved me."
"Preposterous!" Mac exclaimed. "She's afraid of her own shadow."
"But she's not afraid of me," Imamu exclaimed. "Look!" He held up White Rabbit's hand. It wasn't shaking.
"Sir, can you please tell me what year it is?" the officer asked.
"It's year 2321, sir," Imamu stated firmly. "Well, I mean? it was when I left."
"I think I've seen enough," the officer said. "We need to get this man to the infirmary, as is process for anyone arriving on the teleport. Do any of you other people care to explain who you are?"
Achieng stepped forward. "My name is Achieng, and we are the Hippos. We live here, peacefully, quietly, and do no harm."
"Do no harm?" Mac interrupted. "Look at this! You've destroyed a door, used equipment that was banned centuries ago, risked the safety and well-being of an entire fleet? what if the virus had downloaded through the teleport and not just this? this person? What then?!"
White Rabbit stood watching, her hand still tightly held by Imamu's, and she suddenly remembered the thing that had been smoldering in her abdomen all day. It was a red hot, fiery burning that filled up her entire body. She looked at Mac and remembered his accusations-that she had been rude to Logger, of all things-and then thought about everything that had happened since. How she had been exiled to the bilge of the ship; how people were so afraid to live above decks that they thought it was safer to live and raise families in the bilge! How Imamu had been trapped for centuries, alone, afraid, and confused. How now they were accusing the Hippos of doing something that they didn't even play a role in! If they hadn't been here, White Rabbit still would have turned on the machine.
She stepped forward and cleared her throat. Everyone turned to look at her and she shrunk a little, but the fiery anger that burned within her straightened her backbone and forced her to speak.
"It was me," she said. "I turned on the machine because Mac ordered me to kill all live wires. I turned on the machine because Mac told me to make sure everything was turned off so it wouldn't cause any explosions. I turned on the machine because Mac exiled me to the bilge as an unreasonable punishment for something I didn't do. I turned on the machine because Mac wouldn't bother to hear my side of the story. I turned on the machine because of him."
She glared at him, and all of the fight suddenly drained from her body.
Mac was speechless.
"I've definitely seen enough," the commanding officer said. "Soldiers, please take everyone to the hold. We will question them individually and go from there. Take White Rabbit and Imamu to the infirmary and have the doctors make sure they are healthy. Go!"
***
The next several hours consisted of rounds of doctors, rounds of questions, and rounds of interview rooms. Her sister Ann came to see her while she was in the infirmary.
"I can't believe what happened to you!" Ann exclaimed, reaching out to grab White Rabbit's hand. "You must have been terrified! But how brave!"
Then Logger knocked on the door.
Ann smiled and invited him in. She fluttered her eyelashes and blushed when he said hello to her. Then he turned to White Rabbit.
"Hey, honey," he said. "I heard you were sick and was worried 'bout ya. I told the doctors I'll be taking you home when you get out of here."
"No!" White Rabbit heard herself say. "No, no, no! I'm not going anywhere with you! I hate you! You can go to hell!"
Logger suddenly stepped forward, his massive body looming over the bed. "What did you just say to me?"
"I said, 'no!'" White Rabbit repeated. "You can't come home with me and I don't want anything to do with you."
She gulped as an angry fire blazed in his eyes. He grabbed her by the arm and squeezed so hard she saw stars.
"You don't speak to me that way," he exclaimed, his voice a low, guttural growl. He leaned down so that his face was only inches from hers. "I will take you home, and you will let me help you, or else. I sent you to the bilge and I can do worse than that! Now, you will say yes."
"No," she said.
He roared like an animal and punched the wall right next to her head. White Rabbit bent over, arms protecting her head, in fetal position.
Ann began to scream, loudly. A soldier passing by in the hall heard her shrieks.
"What's happening, ma'am?" he asked, bursting through the door.
"He's trying to kidnap me," White Rabbit said, scowling at the large plumber standing in front of her, her hands once again shaking from the sudden show of violence. "And he punched a hole in the wall when he got mad."
"Excuse me, sir," the guard said. "Please, come with me."
He went grudgingly. She didn't see Logger again after that, and she discovered the next day that Mac had been fired.
When the questions and the doctors and the talking finally stopped, hours later and long after Ann had gone home, she gathered up her tools and headed back towards their apartment. It was late and the corridors had dimmed to emergency lighting only.
"Hey!" a voice behind her called. "It's me!"
She turned. Imamu was jogging down the hall towards her.
"You didn't wait!" he exclaimed.
"I didn't know where you were," she replied. "I thought they put you somewhere safe."
"They just made sure I'm healthy, after having my atoms bopping around in a teleport for half a millennium," he replied. "They have a place for me to stay though, so I'll probably head there soon. Where are you off to?"
"Going home," she replied. "I've had a long day, and I didn't even manage to cut the ghost wires."
He smiled. "Can I walk you home?"
"You don't even know where you're going!" she protested.
"You do," he answered.
She shrugged, a little smile crossing her lips. "If you want to."
"I do. Want to know why?"
"Why?"
"Because you saved me. And I think you are incredible." He reached out and took her hand.
She looked down. She wasn't even shaking. Not one little bit.
About Ariele Sieling
Ariele Sieling writes science fiction novels and short stories, and works to blend the potential for human capacity and future technology with a little bit of humor. She is the author of The Wounded World, The Clock Winked, and The Lonely Whelk, in addition to two children's books. She lives in New Hampshire with her three cats.
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Slave Runner
H.S. Stone
It wasn't the scream that woke Malika. The sudden shift in momentum when the carriage stopped jolted her awake. Her sister's body slammed into hers, and both girls untangled their limbs as they fought to reach a sitting position.
"What happened?" Kappai asked, wiping the sleep from her eyes.
Malika's eyes swept through the inside of the wagon. Gray streaks of light found their way though the cracks between the boards that made up their moving prison. Dawn had just broken, although the
sun wasn't high enough in the sky to illuminate their surroundings.
In the opposite corner of the wagon, an older woman, defined only by her outline in the dim light, turned once and went back to sleep. She was already in the wagon when the slave traders captured Malika and her younger sister. At first, the siblings sought out their fellow prisoner, asking her questions about who their captors were, where they were going, and what awaited them at their destination. The woman responded with few words and more often with silence. Malika guessed that she either didn't know the answers or wasn't interested in sharing what she knew. For the remainder of the day and night, the siblings kept to their side of the wagon, speaking only with each other.
Malika peered out of a slit half the width of her finger. They were on a dirt road. Sparse grass grew next to the edge of the path, and thin trees that had lost their leaves with the arrival of autumn lay beyond the patches of green.
A loud voice barked orders outside. She recognized the voice as belonging to the leader of the slave traders. Midway through his tirade, another scream tore through the early morning calm.
Kappai huddled close to her sister. "What was that?"
Instinctively, Malika wrapped an arm around the little girl. "I don't know, but stay next to me." Staying together was how they had survived thus far.
Ever since their parents died the previous winter in a plague that swept through their village, Malika had looked after her younger sister. Although she was only fifteen years old, Malika was still five years older than Kappai. With only rudimentary knowledge of how to hunt and harvest, Malika managed to keep both of them alive for nearly a year. Sometimes she begged for food, sometimes she worked for it, and sometimes, not proudly, she stole what they needed. But Malika also quickly learned that eating wasn't the only requirement for survival. Staying out of trouble and diverting attention from themselves was just as important, especially for two girls on their own.
Malika did her best to protect her sister, but her efforts still couldn't prevent them from ending up in their rolling locked cell.
Through the slit, Malika spotted a slave trader running past the wagon. His leader shouted in his direction, but the harried man ignored the words. He turned his head once, looking back with eyes wide open and mouth agape in fear, but Malika didn't think it was the leader he ran from.