9789180575201

aFlowerfor Atonement

LindaSix

aFlowerfor Atonement

©LindaSix2024

CoverbyLindaSix www.storiesandthings.com

PalatinoLinotype10

Cambria,MinionPro

EditingbyNadjaMontvillage

Förlag:BoD–BooksonDemand,Stockholm,Sverige

Tryck:BoD–BooksonDemand,Norderstedt,Tyskland

ISBN: 978-91-8057-520-1

“Toexist is to change,tochangeistomature, to mature is to go on creating oneselfendlessly.”

HenriBergson

Threeyears before goingmissing.

Chapterone.

THE WARNEVER reachedCity. It waskeptfar away,along theborderthatsplit thecontinent in two. This wasthe greatborealforestthatencompassed theplanet, endless, expandingand growing. It wasnorth of theHerrian Mountains, atwo-day journeyonfootacrossthe border to theenemy nation.

Aweek’swalknorth wasthe border to NewLand, the independentnationfounded onehundred yearsago,which welcomed settlers from across thecontinent.Asthe glacialice slowly retreatednorthwards, this land wasexposed.Withtheir sledge dogs,yurts andclothes made of fur, nomads occupied it at first.But as theice retreatedfurther,theyfollowed. Always huntingthe northern lights.

Othersettlers were nowbusybuildingtheir newnationthere. Theice kept retreating north, as it hadfor thousandsofyears,as sure as thesun wasrising.

Butthiswas notinthe mindsofthe twomen runningthrough thewoods,panting anddrenchedinsweat.Theyweredressed as hikers andmoved fast andquietly as if they didn’t want to be seen.The treespartedand gave waytoa loggingarea. They leaptoverthe fallen logs anddebriswitha step sure as adeer.

Theone taking theleadwas atall, slenderman with pale blue eyes andthinninghairsoblond it wasalmostwhite.His name wasKrohme, an Agentfor thecompany Shoesand Chemistry. ThenameKrohmehad been giventohim when he wasfive years old. He remembered hismotherhad called himsomething else, butnow he wasforty-seven,and that name waslongforgotten. He couldhearhis comradepanting loudly behind him. Krohme stretchedhis neck as he ran, lookingfor areasonablysafeplace wheretheycould rest.

Thepanting manbehindhim wasFerminMacasaga. He was an Elite, half Herrianand born in oneofthe ghettos.Likemany Herrianmen,hewas stocky with broadshoulders.His brown eyes were so dark many mistookthemfor black. Thedarkbrown hair wasusually curly, butnow it wascut shortinmilitarystyle.

ThenameFerminwas givenbyhis mother when he wasborn, andMacasagawas hisstepfather’sname. He wasseven yearsold when they married. Shediedgivingbirth to hislittle sister three yearslater,and thebabyhad been buried with her. Peio kept Fermin as hisson andnever remarried. TheidentityofFermin’s biological father wasa mysteryeventohis dead mother,who hadcomehomefromCityone dayintears.Ferminwas born nine months later.

Hisfirstservice at eighteen lasted fiveyears.Now he was twenty-seven,and this washis first triennial. It wassupposed to last only fivemonths. Butbecause of theneverending border conflict, they hadkepthim fora year.Hewould’vebeenhomeif he hadbeena regularfront trooper.

He triedtokeepupwiththe olderman in frontofhim.Itwas exhilarating at first,achallenge.But nowhe’dalmostreached his limits.The implants in hisbodyworkedtokeephim going, but even they hada limit.

TheAgent slowed down,but that didn’t make it anyeasier. Theterrain here wasmorestrenuous than ever.Fermin’slungs burned,and he feared he wouldcollapseifthe manleading him didn’t stop.

Suddenly,the maninfront of himmadea sharpturn. Fermin almost fell over as he triedtokeepup. Tripping over hisfeet, he followed theman over asmall moundofdirtand slid down a slopeintoa crater full of branches.

He hurt hishands as he crawleddown, andwhenhegot to thebottom,the otherman held up afinger to keep himquiet. Fermin watchedasKrohmetooka tracking device from his pocket.After openingthe smallhatch on thesideofthe box, he took theflyerout andtosseditintothe air, whereits wings unfolded.The Agentstudied thesmall screen on thebox as the flyer didits round, tracking allhuman life signs.

”We’re clear. We canrestfor awhile,” Krohme said as he caught thereturning flyer.Fermindropped onto hisbackpack, finally beingabletorelax.Hetookdeepand slow breathstoget hisbreathing undercontrol.

”Hey!” theAgent said.

”What?”

”You need to drink. We rana long way.”The Agent blinkedonceand tilted hisheadslightly to theleft, an unnervinghabit he seemed to have.”Youneedwater andrest,” he said.Ferminsat up andunstrappedhis backpack.Itwas the middle of April, andthe sunhad been hidden behind clouds for days.The ground wascovered with last year’s grass. It looked deceptivelydry.Too tiredtothink,hesat down andquickly regretted it when thecolddampnessalmostsoakedthrough his trousers.Heusedhis sittingmat andtried again. This time,he stayed dry.

Both menrelaxed theirstrainedmuscles.Krohmesmiled amiablyathim as if they were just on aleisurely walk in the woods. Didn’t both of them runall that way? Then whydid the oldman look so freshand alert? Fermin felt aboutasfresh as a hamper full of dirtylaundry.

Fedup, thirsty, hungry andreeking of sweat, thesight of the olderman with thinning hair smilingathim like he didn’t have acareinthe worldwas enough to make Fermin want to punch him.

Butwhathereallywantedtodowas to sleepand go home. Yet, here he was, twodayswalkbehindenemy lines. Theforest waslittered with enemypatrols,and they’d fallen behind schedule when they hadtospend hoursavoidingevery single oneofthem. That’s whytheyhad runthere.Theyhad to cover some ground to catchup.

They would’ve been caught long agoifitwasn’tfor the

diffusionscrambler.Thisimplant scrambledFermin’ssignal, andhesuspected that Krohme hadsomething similar.

Fermin drankdeeplyfromhis bottle.Thenhewet anapkin, driedthe sweatfromhis face,and immediatelyfeltbetter.He scratchedhis neck andfeltthe mark on hisskin. EveryElite had them,av-shapedmarkoneachsideofthe neck.

TheAgent searched hisbackpackand founda food bar. He metFermin’sgazeasheunwrapped it.

”You need to eat,”hesaid. Fermin took hisadviceand took onefromhis backpack.Itwasn’tgood, buthe’deaten worse. Much,muchworse.Atleast it wouldkeephis strength up.The Agentchewedloudlyand looked very content. He wassittingon adeadtree, grey andsmooth. Itsbarkhad been eatenawayby insectsand otheranimals.Ithad probably been ripped up by its rootsina stormand fallen into thecrater.

”You runreallygoodfor aman your age,”Fermintoldthe Agent.

Krohme’s smilewidened.”Very funny. You’re notsobad yourself.” Fermin looked away.Hetooka sipofwater anddried hisfacewiththe napkin again.

”But seriously, that wassomesprint. Howfar didwerun?” he asked.

”Eighteenpoint four kilometres.”

”How do youknowthat? Itried counting my stepstoget an estimate butlosttrack.How didyou do it?” Fermin said.

”Whendid youlosetrack?” Krohme said.

”I gotasfar as onehundred andfifty. Then Ifound myself starting again, so Igaveup,”hesaid. Krohme watchedhim with interest.

”Mostpeoplewouldn’teventry.And we kept ahighpace in difficult terrain. I’mimpressed.” Aflylandedonhis hand.It wasanold,fat onefromlastyear. It movedsluggishlyasifstill confused from waking up.The mangentlywaved it away.

Fermin took anotherbiteofhis food.The Agentseemed sincereinhis praise,but he wasdodging thequestion. He told himso.

”Asyou like to pointout,I’m olderthanyou.I’vehad more time to practise,” Krohme said with agrin. Andthatwas that.It wasthe only answer he wouldeverget,and he knew it wascrap.

It wasn’t exactlya lie, butitcould be appliedtoalmostanything, so it meantnothing.Hewas hiding something. Andlooking at theAgent,itwas obviousthatthe manwas fullyaware that Fermin wasn’t fooled.Krohmejustdidn’tcare. Fermin ignored himand rubbed hiseyes.

Thetargetwas atwo-hourwalkaway, so they rested fora whilebeforeheading forthe treestofind asafer place. They took turnskeeping watchsothatbothhad afew hoursofsolid sleep before they went to work.

It wasjustbeforedawnwhentheyreached theirtarget. Thefull moon cast aghostly silver lightoverthe forest as Fermin and Krohme crawledthrough thetrees,careful nottoget caught in thelight.The antennatowered on thehillahead of them.Itwas just as theircontact haddescribed it.About fifteen metres high in afenced, well-lit area twenty metres abovethe tree line below. To theirleft, wasa watchtower wherea soldiermonitored the perimeter. Threeother menpatrolled thefence,yawning and stretching as they walked.

Fermin andKrohmelay flatonthe ground outofsight beyond thetreeline. Fermin glancedatKrohme, whonodded andcharged up thehillina silent sprint.

Before coming here,theyhad putonfunctionalbut slicklookingblack uniforms with aspecial blackdye that seemed to swallowthe light. Lookinglikeslobs didn’t fit with their objective, whichwas twofold. To destroythe antennaand spread ghoststories to damage theenemies’moralewhile they were at it.

Theenemy wastechnologically many decadesbehindCity andSaC.Their strength wasintheir larger population.Their primarytacticwas to trytooverwhelm SaCwithsoldiers, butit didn’t work.SaC’s superior technology andtactics always kept them at bay. Sincethe companyShoes andChemistry hadtaken over thewarfare from thegovernmentinthe last war, twolarge areaswithinthe enemynationhad been annexedand conquered. Theenemy hadlosta fifth of theircountry so far.

Fermin carefullyscratched hisneck. Thehelmetdidn’tfit properly.Itwas alittle tootight andfeltitchy at theedges.The material wasalmostindestructible, so it wasgreat forprotection.

However, itsprimary purposewas to scarepeople. Itssmooth andseamlessdesignmadethe wearer look like afaceless machine. Thehelmetended just belowhis chin,exposingthe neck andElite marks.

TheElite programmestarted aboutninetyyears ago. Through theyears,eachgenerationbecamemoreadvancedthanthe other. Thenewer ones,likeFermin, were more machines than men.

Alongwithhis squadofElites, he hadbeensentbeyondthe border to villages andcitiestocause collateral damage many times. To show off theirabilities andsuperiority.Their orders also included sparingcivilians andprotectingwomen and children.The objectivewas to send amessage.Theycouldn’tbe defeated.But if youjointhem, you’ll be protected. It worked.On everymission,theyalwayshad hundreds,ifnot thousands, of refugees coming back with them.

Upon Krohme’s signal,Fermincharged up thehill. He climbedthe fenceinseconds.Krohmewaitedata vanparked by asmall dirt road leadingthere.The lightreflectedinhis black, faceless mask as he nodded at theguardssittingbythe van. They looked limp as dolls, motionless anddroolingslightly. Theireyeswerealert andterrified, andtheyfollowedKrohme andFerminwiththeir gaze.Ontheir chests wasthe reason why they couldn’t move.Round,white discsabout fivecentimetres in diameter that immobilisedthe victimswhile leavingthem completely conscious.

Aftertwo hours, thediscs woulddissolve, andthe guards wouldreturntonormalwithout anyresidualeffects.Theywould be perfectlyfine,althoughtheydidn’tknowthatatthe moment.

Fermin ignoredthe guards,strappedthe chargestohis back andclimbed theantenna like asquirrel. When they needed someonetoclimb something, they always broughtFermin.

At thetop wasa smallmetal boxweldedtothe antenna. It wasthe data recorder with informationabout allsignals coming andgoing.Ferminquickly cutitoff with asmall plasma torch andshoveditinhis backpack.Then, he proceededtoclimb around thetower to sethis charges. In themeantime, Krohme hadpulledthe guards to asafedistance.

Sixteenminutes later, they sprinted into theforest. They were abouteightymetresawaywhenFerminflippedthe switch.The

chargesatthe base detonatedfirst, causingthe antennatofall. As it fell,the second setobliterated what wasleftofit. Theflames rose high abovethe pinesand obscured themoon. Fermin laughedasthe explosions echoed throughthe wilderness.Itwas glorious.

Thesun wasslowlyrisingabove them in thecloudless sky. It wasgoing to be abeautiful day. Therendezvouspoint was oneand ahalfdaysawaybyfoot. Krohme took theleadand guided them.Ferminwatched hisbackpackmoveupand down as they walked,and allhecould thinkabout wasthe tasteless food bars inside it.His stomachgrowled.Thistriennial seemed like it wouldnever end, andhewas fedupwithwalking in thewoods.Krohmesuddenlyquickened hispace, andFermin nearly stumbled over arootwhenhetried to follow.The other manstopped andglanced at himoverhis shoulder.

He should have been home with hisfatherbynow,withher. They could’ve sent himhomeinstead.Plentyofotherswere capableofclimbingtallthingsand blowingthemup. Sometimes, he hadthe feelingtheywould neverlet himgo.

Theday passed uneventfully.The sunslowlyset over thesilent landscape, leavingthe forest in seeminglyperpetual twilight. They setupcampbya stream whichoffered them freshwater to drinkand wheretheycould wash themselves.

Fermin shivered as he steppedout nakedintothe stream,yet it felt so good.The cold watercleansedhis body andsoul, and he quicklyfeltbetter.

Krohme thoughtitsafeenoughtobuild afire.Itdidn’t warm them up fast enough,sohereached fora smallbottle of whisky in hisbackpack. Theforestturneddarkastheywere exchanging warstories.Theycould finally relax, satisfied with theirsuccessfullycompleted mission. They smiled andlaughed. They also gottoblowsomething up,which wasalwaysfun.

”Sowhatdoyou do when you’re notanAgent?” Fermin asked. Thesound of thefire wassoothing. Awindblewthrough thetreetops, andtheyheard thegentlesound of thestreamnot farfromthem.

”Whatdoyou mean?”

”I take it you’re notalwaysonmissions. What do youdoin themeantime?”Ferminsaid.

Krohme turned hisgazetowards theflames.”Thereare always duties.Teachingispartofit.”The flamescasta strange glow on hisface.

”Whatdoyou teach?”

”Close combat.Tactics.Interrogation techniques.Things like that,” Krohme shrugged.Somewhere,not farfromthem, a cuckoo bird called.”Andwhatdoyou do?” he said.

”Work. Wherever Ifind it.”

”Legal work?I didn’t thinkthatwas your style,”Krohmesaid with asmall smile.

”Well, maybe. Perhaps. Does it matter?” Fermin said.

”Not in theleast.” TheAgent blinkedinthatunnerving way he sometimesdid andtiltedhis head to theleft. ”But what about girls? Most guys your agehavea womanbackhome. Or at least onethey’re thinking about,”hesaid. Fermin raised hiseyebrows. ”What? Ihearit’sa popularsubject!” Krohme said with alaugh. Fermin rolled hiseyes. He turned towardsthe soundof thecuckoo’scalland wondered what to say. He’d hadworse companions on missions before,muchworse.The question stirredsomething in him. It made himthink of hishomeand howmuchhewantedtobethere.Hedidn’tcaremuchabout the ghetto, butitwas wherehis tiredold father was. Whereshe was, he wanted to go home so badlyithurt.

”I don’thaveone,officially.But there’sone.” He suddenly founditmoredifficult to saythanhethought.Hehad never talked to anyone aboutitbefore. He glancedatKrohme, whono doubtnoticed hisdifficulty. Theolder mantooka dead branch from thepilebesidethemand putitonthe fire. Theflames quicklyburnedbrighter.

Fermin clearedhis throat.”She’sfive yearsolder than me. ThefirsttimeI really talked to herwas when Iwas fourteen. Theother kids hadmecorneredbehindthe spiceshopand were throwing rocksatme. Oneoftheir favouritegames,” he addedbitterly.”Hermotherownsthe shop,soshe worksthere. Suddenly shestormed out, absolutely furious! Ihad neverseen anyone yell like that!She chased them away,tookmyhandand ledmeintothe shop whereshe cleanedmywounds. Shewas

magnificent,soangry.I hadnever seen anything so beautiful. Stillhaven’t.”

”Thatwas alongtimeago,” Krohme said.Ferminsmiledand methis eyes.

”We’ve been friendseversince.I’llget herone day. It’lltake time.She is kind butstubborn. Buteventhe glacialice will melt oneday,justlikeshe will.”