Chapter Fourteen
A waste of waste
“You want to go where?” Beren asked incredulously. “Chantel, do you really believe this Auntie Batty’s story about a community living in the wasteland zone? The wasteland zones are nothing but miles of radioactive dead land. It’s practically toxic to even go near there.”
“Beren, you’re just speculating about what the wasteland zones are like based on what you’ve heard. No one in the metropolis zone has actually been to a wasteland zone. It’s all just hearsay.”
“Okay, even if we were to go, how will we get there? Do you really think Condor will agree to transport us there on his ship?”
Chantel realised all of a sudden that she hadn’t thought about the logistics. Getting there on the Kazaa would require Condor’s agreement and lots of arms to complete the journey. She wasn’t sure if she could trust Condor enough to show him the glitch. She also didn’t know how much of Auntie Bessie’s previous life in the wasteland zone Condor knew about and if he would be comfortable with her going back there again. As she lay once again on the top bunk in the cabin that she shared with Beren and the adolescent siblings she stretched out her arms above her head, letting her fingers brush the ceiling of the cabin, and figured that these questions could be answered the next day. All she wanted right then after all the day’s excitement was a good night’s sleep.
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Chantel awoke the next morning in even more of a daze than the morning before. Her mind reeled with the events of the previous day. She remembered the hippo fairies working in drudgery in the hull of the ship, living their lives on the precipice of hope and despondency. She looked across to the other bunk. Sure enough, a different pair of people were sleeping in those bunks than there were the night before. She peeked underneath to the bottom bunk where Beren lay still sound asleep. Careful not to wake him, she climbed gingerly out of bed and left Beren deep in slumber while she went to find Julie. Working her way down the same corridor that led to the hippo fairies, she found Julie and Auntie Bessie in the room they were in before. They looked tired from a restless night’s sleep. She gave them a hearty greeting and realised that they were deep in discussion about how to get back to the wasteland zone.
“There’s no other way about it Julie,” Auntie Bessie implored. “I don’t want to let Condor know that I’m going back there. We’ll just tell him we’re going on a side trip for a few days.”
“You really think he won’t try to track us?” Julie responded. “He’s too controlling to let us go for a jaunt by ourselves like that.”
“Well what else do you propose we do? Convince Condor to steer this whole ship to the wasteland zone? That will bring too much attention to the community and could ruin our chances of seeking out Wolram.”
“I don’t want to tell Condor that we are leaving though. If I try to leave another time, after I’ve just come back, it will just be too much for him.”
“Julie, are you saying that you just want to sneak away again…after all that you’ve put him through these past five years.”
“Auntie Bessie, I’m too much of a coward for confrontation when it comes to Condor. You know he won’t be happy if I take you with me. I just don’t want to have to face…”
“Very well then. It’s settled. When do you think we should leave?”
“Tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow night it is.”
Chantel marvelled at the efficiency with which the plan was made in front of her. She was almost afraid to ask about the plan, fearing that it would somehow make her seem ignorant in front of the two people she had come to admire and respect the most in her life. She eventually succumbed to the suspense.
“So the plan is…?”
“We’re leaving for the wasteland zone tomorrow night,” Auntie Bessie stated. “In the Saharan. We won’t tell a soul. You and Beren are welcome to come with us, but Condor must not know about it…not for now.”
Julie nodded in acquiescence and tacit agreement that the best course of action was as Auntie Bessie described. Chantel acknowledged her acceptance of the proposal. She didn’t feel safe on the Kazaa and something about Condor was still a bit off-putting to her. She wanted to go where Julie and Auntie Bessie went. However, she wondered how she would convince Beren to leave with them. He hated the Saharan and it would need a damned good reason for him to want to set foot on it again. She hoped the original purpose of their journey, the chance to see actual purebloods, would be enough to convince him to leave with them.
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Chantel relayed the plan to Beren later that day.
“You want me to go with you on that godforsaken junk bucket?” Beren cried. If you think for a moment that I’ll even consider setting foot on that thing then you have got to be crazy.”
“Beren, it’s the only real way. For some reason Auntie Bessie doesn’t want Condor to know that she’s going back to the wasteland zone. Julie doesn’t want Condor to know that she’s leaving again. It’s all very complicated but the plan has already been decided. It’s either take it or leave it. Beren, you have to come with us. There’s something else about Condor that I haven’t told you about and I don’t want you staying here on the ship with him on your own.”
Chantel implored Beren to join them on their planned trip to the wasteland zone the next night, using the threat of being forced to join the hippo fairies below the deck as intimidation. Beren was unconvinced.
“Look, I’ve spent more time with Condor now than you and I’ve gotten to know him fairly well. We share similar opinions on a range of things. We are both against the global five putting rights management technologies on their download files. We’re both hackers for a cause and we both abhor the global police. I don’t think that he’s as much as a monster as you make him out to be. I’ve gotten to meet a few people on this ship and they don’t seem all that unhappy.”
“Beren, we have to stick together and I’m not staying on this ship with Condor without Julie and Auntie Bessie around. I don’t trust him Beren. Do you know why they call the people below hippo fairies? It’s a derogatory term for people from the manufacturing zones. Condor is using them and he’ll probably do the same thing to us. We can’t rely on him to look after us.”
“Chantel, you remember how unhappy I was on the Saharan. I can’t go back on that boat after what I was subjected to. You don’t understand how humiliating it was…”
“I’ve spoken to Julie and she thinks that it will only take a day or two to get back to the wasteland zone on the Saharan, going full speed ahead of course. Don’t worry, the journey won’t be like the last time. I’ll make sure she gets there quick. Once we’re in the wasteland zone, if it’s what they say it is, we’ll get them to reconfigure the boat to make it more comfortable for you. Beren, this is the only way we’ll continue our journey to see the purebloods.”
Chantel persisted in convincing Beren to depart on the Saharan and eventually Beren surrendered.
“Alright, alright Chanty. Keep your panties on will ya. Fine I’ll go with you to the wasteland zone to see this Wolram guy or whatever his name is, but afterwards we have to stick to our plan to get to Freetown. We have to find out what this glitch is all about. That’s why we are here after all.”
Chantel agreed. Their hijacking on the Kazaa had been a distraction and it was only fortuitous that Auntie Bessie was harbouring a secret past from her time in a community led by a pureblood. Luckily, her stumbling across the glitch gave Chantel and Beren the opportunity to get back on track on the way to Freetown. Chantel’s eyes glistened with the thought of seeing purebloods. It was incredible for her to believe that she might actually find out soon enough whether they were real.
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Chantel spent the next day in a nervous wait. She hadn’t seen Condor since the time she left Beren with him in the CCC. She had no idea what his routine was and if he would detect them leaving the ship in the
middle of the night. Julie assured her that Condor was a deep sleeper and that they would wait until he had retired for the night before making their move. Chantel queried about the other crew members on the ship and whether they would report the escapade to Condor. Julie didn’t seem to think that it would be a problem, making Chantel believe that she had the implicit trust of the crew, or at least Chantel hoped as much.
The issue of how to get Beren off the ship was a slightly trickier matter. When Beren came aboard, he had the help of three faceless ninjas to lift him onto deck. There would be three people to help lower him down to the Saharan tonight as well but they would need tact and teamwork to ensure that Beren was not harmed. Julie had prepared a number of ropes to tie to Beren’s wheelchair and when the time was right, these could easily be fastened in between the spokes to suspend the chair like a swing. Chantel had watched amazed as Julie exhibited her talents at knot-tying to develop a pulley around which the ropes were slung. The ropes hanging off the pulley would position Beren to land exactly in the centre of the Saharan’s deck. With any luck, he would touch down without a sound and start raising the sails while waiting for the rest of the group to climb on board.
As night fell on board the Kazaa, the time crept closer to the scheduled departure time. Julie had convinced Condor to give the hippo fairies working below deck a reprieve for the night and Condor reluctantly agreed to allow the oars to rest. Without the steady rhythm of the rowing propelling the ship along, the Kazaa was allowed to drift on the water like a floating mechanical lotus flower. Chantel remembered her first sight of the ship only a few days before. She had wondered how such a piecemeal contraption managed to sail on the water. She thought that with so many pieces of metal holding the ship together, there would be bound to be a leak somewhere. It turned out that the Kazaa was robust. The dedication of the crew in their tenacious plunder of the wasteland zone to retrieve the rubbish to build the ship had resulted in a remarkably well-engineered vessel. Just like the Saharan, the Kazaa was a solid piece of manufacturing.
The plan was for Julie to stay with Condor in his cabin until he fell asleep and once she emerged, it would be time to leave. Chantel waited restlessly in the kitchen with Beren for that moment to come. Beren was in a foul mood at the thought of having to sail in the Saharan again and he barely spoke to the numerous hippo fairies who wandered into the kitchen, wanting to have a chat to the people from the other side of the world. Chantel was left to fend off the questions on her own which proved at first to be a welcome distraction from the other thoughts plaguing her mind. As the night wore on, Chantel grew more and more wearisome of the discussion and wondered when Julie would be ready to leave. At the same time, the clustering of hippo fairies in the kitchen became more boisterous as they rejoiced in the prospect of being given the night off.
‘It would be tough to get away,’ thought Chantel, ‘without drawing attention to themselves.’
She wondered where Auntie Bessie was this entire time. Finally Julie appeared. Her face was red and blotchy, like she had been crying. Chantel decided not to ask.
“Chantel, Beren – it’s time to go. Where is Auntie Bessie?”
Chantel and Beren shrugged their shoulders in unison.
“Oh, bloody hell. I know where she’ll be.” Julie started to stomp off before she turned abruptly around and said with a softer tone, “Chantel, do you mind coming with me.”
Chantel obediently followed Julie as she marched away, leaving Beren scowling in the kitchen amongst the raucous hippo fairies. They headed back down the corridor to the CCC. There, in amongst the flashing lights of the servers a frantic Auntie Bessie was scrambling to collect and pack various computer equipment.
“Auntie Bessie, it’s time to go. We really don’t have time for all this,” scolded Julie.
Auntie Bessie continued fussing over the contents of a hard drive upon which she was transferring files extracted from the CCC.
“Just a couple more downloads and then I’ll be done. Just give me two secs.”
Julie let out an audible sigh and ostentatiously started tapping her foot as she sternly crossed her arms.
“How did it all go anyway Julie?” Auntie Bessie asked.
Julie lowered her gaze.
“It was as expected. Goodbyes are never easy. I ended up, uh-um, supplementing his scotch to make him fall asleep. He’ll be out cold until next morning. We don’t need to worry about Condor.”
Auntie Bessie looked up and gave Julie a reassuring pat on the shoulder
“It’s for the best Julie. No point worrying about it now.”
Julie nodded, stifling her tears.
“Ready to go now Auntie Bessie?”
Auntie Bessie transferred the last file to the hard drive and bundled it into a tightly packed suitcase of projectors, processors, glasses batteries and other random equipment, which she then asked Chantel politely to carry. Julie struggled under the weight of another bag filled with similar items.
“Good lord, Auntie Bessie,” Julie groaned. “Is it really necessary to take all this with you? You know how tiny a boat the Saharan is don’t you?”
Auntie Bessie chuckled and nonchalantly swaggered ahead.
'She had a distinct lightness in her step now,' thought Chantel. 'No doubt she was glad to be venturing back to her old turf.'
Chantel wondered what other skeletons were hiding in the closet of the unassuming old lady in front of her. She hoped that Auntie Bessie was not leading them into a trap. Chantel’s imagination went off on a frolic as she conjured up various possibilities of what might potentially lie in wait for them. She shuddered thinking about the prospect of flesh eating cannibals driven to starvation due to a destitute existence in the wasteland zone. She wondered if perhaps Auntie Bessie had been sent out as a scout to search for and summon fresh meat back to the wasteland zone for an extravagant feast. Chantel told herself she was being silly, but nevertheless these fanciful notions crossed her mind.