Chapter Two
After long fraught seconds, he looked down at the dead clone. His lip curled and he bent down and taking the corpse by the ankle, dragged it away.
Did he drag the clone to show an unsubtle insult? He had the strength to carry the … the corpse. She swallowed and tried not to think about the brutal scene she’d just witnessed. The walls cleansed the blood with tongue like features and her stomach turned. She had to battle the need to throw up for several seconds.
She wanted to cry, to run, to get away from this madness. But she dared not move. Cyborgs had amazing hearing. Agrippa clasped her hand over her mouth, struggling to keep her loud breathing under control. Soft sounds trapped in her throat wanted to escape through her mouth. What was happening? Did Cyborg 321 malfunction or was this an organised thing. Was this why they wanted her off the ship? Could they be trying to steal the ship? Surely, they were not as free thinking as that.
She was trapped in the crawl space. If she tried to leave now and they caught her they would kill her the same way they are killing the other clones. Terrified screams echoed all over the ship. The kind of screams she never thought to hear from clones. And despite her hatred of them, she hoped to never hear it again. The ship. Why didn’t it sound the alarm or contact the clones on the planet. It’s supposed to be loyal to the clones. The cyborgs must have figured out a way to enslave the ship.
The terrified screams and desperate running lasted for ever. That was what it felt like while she sat with her knees drawn to her chest, heart beating and her breath short gasps of fear while she heard the slaughter. How many clones could there be on the ship? She checked her timer and it showed that not even fifteen minutes have passed since she’d been ordered to leave the ship earlier. How was that possible? So many terrible things have happened.
She sat tense and barely breathing while the noise slowly died down and all she heard was the distinctive doof hiss of cyborg boots. Only that morning a large carrier brought the cyborgs to the shipyard. She’d been about to go on board, but she’d hung back in the hope of seeing cyborg 321. They descended and walked in four neat rows to the ship. Their boots ringing on the floor in violent synchronicity.
Her body ached and she lay down on the hard surface, careful not to make a noise. Did she dare try and leave the ship? If only she knew what to do. So far, the ship has not reported her presence in the crawl space to the cyborgs. Instead, it massaged her tense muscles where her body touched the floor of the crawlspace. Maybe it would keep her hidden. Maybe she could get close to the doors of the ship through the crawlspace and then get down and run down the ramp. She’d rest for just a few minutes and then decide what to do. Could she run that fast?
The ship vibrated as the engines hummed to life. She sat bolt upright and hit her head.
The engines hummed .
She cradled her head with both hands. If she could just think, if her mind wasn’t frozen with fear. Agrippa whimpered and stuck her fist in her mouth to stifle the sobs. If she didn’t see cyborg 321 kill the clone in cold blood, she might have revealed herself. After the slaughter, she doubted they would show mercy for anyone not a cyborg.
She couldn’t stay in the crawlspace forever. For one thing, she’d need food eventually. Though with her stomach tied in a steel knot, she couldn’t imagine ever eating again. And she’d need bathroom facilities. And where did they think they were they going? There were no habitable planets within reach of Tundra.
She stilled as the heavy doof hiss footsteps came closer and closer and then stopped right beneath her. Agrippa didn’t even breath.
“Are the clones in pursuit?”
Agrippa frowned, did they really think they could outrun the clones? For some reason the clones kept building warships and no one has been able to figure out why. The Souls frequently debated about that. The clones acted as if they had an enemy out there. But there was no sign of intelligent life out there. In fact, in centuries they haven’t found any prove that anyone else was out there. This ship was only one of a large fleet of completed ships. And the clones could produce more in a relatively short time.
The other cyborg answered. “No, not yet. Three temples were blown up and it will take them a while to rebuild and follow us.”
“We can be certain they will be on our heels. Have Balthazar decided where we are going yet?” They have names now? What did Cyborg 321 call himself? “You will never use it.” She shivered. Those words suddenly had a sinister meaning.
“Not yet.”
They moved away and she wanted to beg them to come back, not to leave her alone. At the same time, she feared they’d flush her out into space. She wasn’t brave enough to chance it. Agrippa shuddered and hugged herself. What on Tundra was she supposed to do now?
They might say they were only machines with no emotions, but she knew hatred when she saw it. She’d seen it in the eyes of clones her whole life. Sometimes she wondered if hate was what kept everyone on Tundra going. The clones hated the naturals and her people hated the clones and feared the cyborg who seemed to hate everyone not cyborg.
The little she’d seen of Cyborg 321 during her time on this ship had convinced her it would be better to stay out of their way. Except, Cyborg 321 drew her like a dying clone was drawn to his designated temple.
She waited until their footsteps faded away and then looked up and down the corridor through the grid. Nothing. She couldn’t stay here for however long they travelled. Sheer terror kept her unmoving. Where did they think they were going? What if they never found a habitable planet and their food ran out. Their water? Or did they plan to live on the ships?
She whimpered with sheer blind terror and clapped her hands over her mouth to keep the sound trapped.
Maybe if she could get to a shuttle she could get back to Tunria. Her family and The Souls, depended on her, she couldn’t stay on this ship.
Deciding to stick to the crawl space that accessed most parts of the ship and allowed her relative safety, she crawled on her hands and knees, but stopped when she came to the largest hanger.
Agrippa pressed her hand to her mouth to stop a loud despairing moan. Row upon row of cryo units filled the cavernous space. At least fifty cyborgs prepared to go into the cryo units. How was this possible? At the most twenty had worked on the ship. How did the rest manage to get onboard.
She jammed her hand into her mouth to stop the whimper that wanted to escape.
Would Cyborg 321 kill her the way he’d killed the clone? Would he show a female any mercy?