Nukledeus

In the early morning, Fergus came to take care of the wounded woman. She was still motionless. He removed the blanket and rubbed his hands to warm them up. Then he checked the bandages. The ones on the ankle and arm were clean. He just had to change the dressing around the head and deal with the bruises. He began to coat the latter with Lichen-based balm. Grandpa had added plants grown by the sedentary tribes who sold them at almost prohibitive prices. The contents of the tiny pot were valuable and Fergus was careful not to waste anything. He hoped with all his heart that his grandfather would not be angry that the balm was being used to treat a stranger.

His comrades in the camp were waking up one by one, little by little. The sun gently colored the horizon as if it were brushing the landscape with its light. Touches of mineral colors appeared, the Lichen was rarely seen in this region, only a few patches here and there. The city in the distance seemed dark and dull. Fergus hadn't noticed when the bright light had gone out. Even during his watch, his mind had remained concerned with the wounded woman and the care she needed.

Soon, Olek joined him and brought him some fish from the day before. They had run out of bread. Due to their hasty departure from Lana's camp they had not been able to fully resupply and they were already short on food. Fergus wiped his hands on the edge of the pot to remove the surplus of balm without wasting any and ate his share of fish up. Meanwhile, squatting on the ground, Olek remained beside the injured woman, silently staring at her. He closed her shirt properly and replaced the blanket. His small hands were slightly shaking and the tremor made him unusually clumsy.

– Is she better? he asked whispering, as if he was afraid to wake her up.

– Her wounds must be painful, but they don't look serious.

The young man tried to show confidence to reassure the boy but the latter was not fooled. After a silence, he added:

– She may have internal injuries. Grandpa would have to examine her. Right now I'm going to change the bandage on her head. Get me some clean cloth and water.

– I'll be right back.

Olek stood up and ran away. In the meantime, Fergus began to untie the dressing that covered a large part of the injured woman's face. He carefully lifted the last strips and almost snatched his hand away as if the cloth stained with dried blood was burning between his fingers.

The girl was awake and staring at him fixedly. If looks could kill, he would have been dead without a doubt. The injured eyelid partially closed one eye but did not remove anything from the harshness of her eyes. Fergus had to admit that he had made a mistake. Such a strong will could not belong to an innocent child.

He slowly moved his hand away. He didn't want her to feel threatened. The small height and the lack of any feature, male or female, on the pale body probably misled the young man. However, he persisted, without being able to explain it, in calling the androgynous person "her". Her face was now clean and completely clear, and Fergus found her charming in spite of her thinness, her bald skull, and her eyes that seemed out of proportion. He immediately suppressed this thought. Even wounded, she might be dangerous.

Olek hastily came back. Fergus raised his hand to stop him. The risk may have been real. Seeing the discomfited face of the boy, he signaled to him to move forward more slowly. He cleared his throat, surprised to see that he was intimidated but not really frightened by this mysterious stranger.

– I'm going to do the dressing around your head again. Do you understand what I'm saying?

– No.

There was a long awkward silence. Fergus hesitated. Did she understand? Did she turn down his help? She was still staring at him with that look that made him uncomfortable. Unlike him and despite the situation, she displayed a self-control that impressed the young man and the boy. It was not the behavior of a person who was lost, in distress and did not understand the language, so he abandoned the idea of changing her bandage. She had said no, after all.

Not knowing what to do, he looked at Olek, who remained gawking and motionless. He looked as if he had been standing in front of someone from another planet. Fergus himself was no longer sure what he had brought back to life. The voice, a little low, did not allow to confirm or invalidate the feminine, or even human, nature of this androgynous person.

The young man, a little taken aback by this exchange and nervous not to know how to anticipate the reactions of the injured woman, had to make an effort to control his growing panic. To behave like a coward in front of Olek was not an option. The boy looked up to his leader and the image of this brave hero had been blemished enough by Lana's incident.

Fergus breathed in deeply to calm down and regain his senses and decided that he had to break this heavy silence at all costs. Say something, say anything and get her to talk again in order for them to learn more and release some tension. He chose to keep it simple and introduced himself:

– I'm Fergus and he's Olek. Nice to meet you.

He held out his hand to her, and withdrew it awkwardly a short time later. She had remained motionless and silent like a statue, her breathing and blinking barely noticeable. He tried again with a benevolent approach.

– Are you thirsty? Hungry perhaps?

His attempt was pitiful. At that moment, he felt completely unable to strike up a conversation without making a fool of himself. Lana would have laughed out loud at his clumsiness.

Chloé, an experienced Capitan, easily sized the two youngsters up and assessed her own situation. She was unable to move. The pain and stiffness of his right forearm indicated that it was injured. On the left side, her catheters were trapped under her. Her legs, covered with bruises and a multitude of other small wounds, didn't fare any better.

The two No-lights standing in front of her didn't look malicious, but she refused on principle to judge by appearances, especially outside Ark City. She was especially inclined not to judge a book by its cover since she, herself, had had a perfectly identical twin that had been her opposite on the inside.

In her situation, she was acutely aware she had to proceed with caution with the two unknown youngsters. The slightest mistake could be disastrous or even fatal. She was their prisoner and, for the time being, she was defenseless. In addition, she could hear noises, other people were busy nearby. Who knows if one of them wasn't gonna come and cut her body into little pieces then fry them?

Her best chance was to quell their distrust and to recover, if they gave her time, before contemplating escape. She had no idea how long she had been unconscious. She remembered being thrown out of the waterfall and screaming before the impact at the bottom of the cascade and then nothing. Blackout. She couldn't recollect what happened or where she was. Such essential information and so many others regarding the events were needed to prepare for her escape and could only come from the No-lights and her own observations. She had to stay alert, it was a matter of life and death.

The young man seemed to be waiting for an answer. Talking to him, having him help and support her if possible, might be the right solution. He had taken good care of her. She had briefly regained consciousness several times since the day before and could still recall the taste of his lips during his attempt at CPR or the gentleness of his hands when he tended to her wounds. Had she imagined these stealthy contacts? By staring at the young man, she had managed to engrave in her memory the regular features of her savior, if it were him.

With great effort, she managed to articulate the word "thirst." Her dry throat, despite her stay in the river, still had an aftertaste of blood. Her voice cracked, the muscles of her numb face almost refused to obey her. It was difficult, almost impossible, to display dignity and authority in this state. Lying down, immobile and helpless, Chloé felt like screaming with rage and frustration but could not. However, the two No-lights left immediately to obey her and get her something to drink, as if it were an order of the utmost importance.

Alone, she breathed a sigh of relief. Being blindfolded made her captivity too frightening. She was now able to see her surroundings. Ark City in the distance seemed so close and yet still inaccessible. Out of her reach, maybe forever.

They returned with several other boys. Chloé prepared for the worst and summoned all her courage to face the situation. Ever since the last terpa, she had been determined to sell her skin dearly if she couldn't save it.

Fergus came closer and helped Chloé sit comfortably before giving her the drink. In a sitting position, leaning against the rock that still gave her some shade, the young woman felt better. She was no longer a mere piece of meat waiting to be eaten but a human being, an arkian Capitan.

The sun was rising in the sky. Soon, the shadow would be but a memory during the scorching hours and then it would reappear, benevolent, to relieve the sun burn, come the evening. The group of boys set to work to put up a kind of tent between the boulder and the poles they were struggling to plant in the dry and hard ground. Chloé watched them silently, wondering why they were going to so much trouble for her. Fergus briefly introduced them one by one while they were working and they all left afterwards. Only young Olek remained by her side.

The young boy seemed to have a special status in the group. He was a kind of mascot. And she had realized that he was very attentive towards her. He gently helped her drink or adjusted her blanket even though it was quite useless now that the cold night had come to an end. He didn't talk much but smiled a lot. He seemed to have recovered from his shock and decided not to be afraid of the stranger. His trust could very well be the best, and maybe the only, asset for Chloé in her current predicament.

The young boy was about the same height as Chloé but much younger than her. Since the last terpa, she had studied all the archives and read all the arkian testimonies about sightings or encounters with the No-lights from the outside. For the second time in her life, she could see with her own eyes the truth of these data: in a.d.u.l.thood, they were stronger and a lot taller than the arkians. Even their younglings seemed sturdier than most of the arkians.

She estimated Olek's age at about ten years, while the others were probably close to a.d.u.l.thood, perhaps a few years would be enough to bring them definitively out of childhood. They were already displaying the caution and the responsible and reasonable demeanor of young a.d.u.l.ts. No doubt they saw her as an enemy, and rightly so, even the handsome Fergus.

Olek, on the other hand, was open and trusting, candid and carefree like a child cherished and protected by his people. Chloé felt a slight pang of remorse for using him, but in her situation, she had no choice.

He surprised her by taking some crumbs out of his pocket and putting them in her glass. The unfiltered water, tasting like soil and other unidentified substances, became pleasantly sweet. Chloé guzzled the whole drink eagerly.

Suddenly, Olek's eyes lit up. Rummaging through his other pocket, he pulled out a bracelet made of small wooden pearls. He fastened it around Chloé's left wrist which was so thin that two coils were needed, and entwined it with the catheters that hung pitifully, and impeded her movements. Being an arkian soldier, she was wondering what this weird thing could be. Was it some kind of handcuff? In order not to offend the boy, she thanked him and then belatedly introduced herself as she had realized she didn't give him her name before and it was a necessary first step on her way to befriend him. His childish face immediately shone with pure bliss and Chloé could not hold back her laughter. The sugary water had restored her voice to its normal range and the crystalline sound echoed like a clear stream running merrily on the rocks.

This laugh, so similar to Daphné's, died in an instant. Chloé had been the serious one in the twin pair and this sound had brought back the memory of her sister. In Ark City, only the Shadow Girls had been able to hear this laughter since Daphné's enrollment with the rebels, or rather since her desertion from the law-abiding arkians. Since her death, it was the first time it surfaced. Chloé's heart tightened in her c.h.e.s.t.

When the sound faded completely, Chloé felt all eyes directed towards her and suddenly came back to the reality of her captivity. One of the young men, called Nikodem if she remembered correctly, broke away from Fergus' group and hurried towards the both of them. However, Olek only had eyes for her. She had easily, almost involuntarily, accomplished the first step of her survival plan: she had an ally.

– Olek, are you okay?

Chloé could read on Nikodem's face a great worry and a disapproving look that reminded her of Gili. He probably believed that she had bewitched the child. She felt on her bruised cheek the hand of young Olek, who was gently brushing away one of her tears. The pain due to Daphné's absence had caused two big tears to burst out of her eyes, slowly flowing away, forgotten by everyone but the boy. He stood close by. She could feel his breath c.a.r.e.s.sing her skin.

– Oleeeek!

Nikodem had rushed to rescue his little brother from this trance. He didn't believe in spells and didn't understand Olek's behavior. But the only thing he knew for certain was that the stranger was now holding, in her valid left hand, the knife with a bone handle he had made and offered to his little brother. But Olek was struggling with all his might in his brother's grasp. "Don't hurt her, let me go!" he shouted. Even though he was much stronger than his younger brother, Nikodem had trouble controlling him and he wondered what she had done to Olek so that he would act as if his own brother, his only family, was an enemy.