Barren Read online

CHAPTER FOUR

  "Amazing, a flexible thermoelectric synthetic rubber! Ingenious, really, powering the device with your own body heat. I imagine there is a regulator and nanotech distributer inside the wrist to efficiently deliver power, but I'm surprised that such a device can run on only the milliwatts produced by the human body. Unless, of course-"

  "Abbas, I think that's enough for now," Joseph interrupted Kian Abbas' vocal analysis of Mackenzie's bionic hand. "I expect my daughter would like to have her arm back now, if you don't mind."

  Abbas glanced from Joseph down to the bionic hand he was holding, which was still attached to Mackenzie's arm. He smirked sheepishly at her and winked, letting go of her hand and straightening up. Mackenzie could see he was still smiling behind his beard.

  "Sorry, Mackenzie," Abbas said, chuckling. "I get carried away at times with technology. Especially when it's something so advanced. You say a friend of yours built this?"

  Mackenzie nodded, unable to resist showing off a little by flexing the fingers on her bionic hand to demonstrate how well it was able to respond to her thoughts.

  "Yeah, Ethan Renaud. He's a tech-head over at the shop."

  "Maybe we can talk about that another time, yes?" Joseph interrupted again, taking a seat at the head of a small, rectangular table. "I thought you were going to brief me on something."

  They were all inside the office that served as a place for all official functions that came with Joseph's duty as leader of humanity. On the wall overlooking the table in the centre of the room was a large wooden plaque. Mackenzie examined the plaque for a moment, as she had done countless times before. Carved in large letters were the words In Memoriam, and beneath that was a long list of names and dates. Studying the names for a moment, Mackenzie examined the most recent entries. Carter Hughes. Ileana Rivera. Holly Grayson. Viktor Bellic. These were the names of the Diviners lost to the desert. It was a long list.

  Mackenzie forced herself to turn away from the Wall and focus on the table in front of her, thinking sadly that Inglis' name would be added before the end of the day.

  The table had been laid out with several full jugs of water and several plates of what little food they were actually able to grow in the hot and dry climate: gourd, malabar spinach, okra, and even watermelon. It never ceased to amaze Mackenzie that watermelon was actually able to grow in a desert, with proper care. She longed to take a slice and bite into the soft but firm watery flesh, but thought it would be rude to stuff her face before the Diviners got the chance.

  Taking Joseph sitting down as a sign that they should all do the same, Abbas, Lowe, Bell, and Greaves all sat down around the table. Mackenzie, sitting on her father's right noticed that the first thing they all reached for was not the food but the glasses of water set in front of them. They drank slowly, but still downed their glasses in only moments, then poured themselves a second glass, which they then nursed and sipped.

  "We weren't able to locate a new water source, as of yet, sir," Abbas began, turning serious again. "The terrain to the east is harder and drier than the last area we colonised. There was nothing out there, even Inglis said so before ... before he died."

  "How did he die?" Mackenzie blurted out, then damned herself silently for asking. She shrank down a little in her chair as all eyes turned on her.

  "I don't think you want to know exactly how," Bell said gently.

  "Er, why not?" Mackenzie asked.

  "Did you see us bring a body back?" Jesse said, almost snapping. "There wasn't one, at least not one worth bringing back. Let's just leave it at that."

  "Yes, let's," Joseph agreed, glancing at Mackenzie before turning back to Abbas. "What about food? Did you manage to hunt any of the wildlife?"

  "Yes," Abbas nodded. "We came across a mana field and collected the fruit seeds, but we know from past attempts that growing mana ourselves is basically impossible. We've yet to identify the specific conditions that allow optimal growth, but perhaps the horticulturists can figure it out this time. Aside from fruit seeds, Jesse managed to pick off a few gozards. Their meat is chilled in the rear of the truck."

  "Uh oh," Lowe suddenly said, winking across the table at Mackenzie.

  "Excuse me?" Bell snapped, planting her hands firmly on the table and half rising from her seat, staring daggers down the length of the table at Abbas. "The truck?"

  "Oh, forgive me," Abbas said sarcastically. "I mean Rhiannon."

  "That's better," Bell said, sitting back down in her seat beside Mackenzie with a smug smile.

  "You named the truck Rhiannon?" Mackenzie asked, smirking.

  "That beautiful gal out there saved our asses more times than I can count," Bell explained. "If that doesn't earn her the right to a name, then nothing does."

  "Can we continue to hunt the gozard herd from here?" Joseph asked, sighing slightly as they had gone off topic again.

  "No," Jesse said flatly. "They're too far east to keep going back there, plus they're on the move again by now. Gozards never stick around one place too long, sir."

  "Of course, I remember," Joseph nodded thoughtfully. "And water? There's nothing? Nothing at all?"

  Bell shrugged. "Before we started on this mission, Inglis suspected two prime locations for a new water source. The first was east, which proved to be a bust. The second was south towards the mountain ranges."

  "We'd like to head back out as soon as possible, sir," Lowe added.

  "We've searched the mountain ranges before," Joseph pointed out, staring down into his glass of water. "Vasseur and I when we were both Diviners. There's nothing there."

  "Inglis suspected otherwise, sir," Abbas said. "He believed that the somewhat cooler climate around the southern side of the ranges might yield better results than heading farther east."

  "I'm not sure I can approve a mission that wastes time," Joseph sighed. "We have to be certain that we can find a water source there and we don't have the time to make wild guesses."

  "You knew Inglis as well as the rest of us, sir," Abbas said, his tone even, though Mackenzie could tell he was frowning behind his beard. "He would never risk lives on a guess."

  Joseph sighed and rubbed his forehead; Mackenzie recognized the signs of an impending migraine.

  "Our current water supply is almost tapped out," Joseph finally said. "I don't really have much choice in the matter, lest I let us all die of dehydration."

  Joseph suddenly glanced at Mackenzie as though he had forgotten she was there, and then he turned back to the Diviners.

  "Actually," he began, "Mackenzie works at the wells. If this mission is to go ahead, you all need to understand the deadline that applies to us all. Mackenzie, based on the current depth of the well, how long do you estimate we can all survive?"

  "Me?" Mackenzie blurted out, taken aback. She looked helplessly around the room, seeing all the faces that were now turned expectantly towards her. Swallowing hard, Mackenzie thought for a moment before speaking, measuring each word carefully so as to not sound like a fool in front of the Diviners.

  "I haven't checked today," she began. "But based on yesterday's reading, we, um... might be able to survive another 6 weeks before dehydration takes place."

  "Might?" Jesse pressed, his lip curling slightly.

  Mackenzie fixed him with a stern look, trying to decide if Jesse Greaves was playing a part or was genuinely an ass.

  "6 weeks is a certainty," she said more forcefully. "7 to 8 if we reduce rations, but they're already pretty tight. By that time, we'll be completely out of water. People will already be ill by that stage, plenty will already have died, but at 7 weeks, the body count will skyrocket. There are a hundred thousand people who need water who suddenly won't be getting it."

  Jesse frowned, but nodded. "You mean there might be riots. People stealing water and food."

  "I mean people will be scared of dying," Mackenzie said emphatically, leaning forward slightly.

  Jesse shrugged. "Is there a difference?"

  "Ye
ah, a big one!" Mackenzie said, her voice rising. "We're so close to running out of water. We've already had one case of theft, and you know how that always goes. No one has ever chosen to actually let themselves be banished. You might be confident that you can survive out there, but most people are scared to death of what's out there. It won't just be dehydration and theft and violence if we don't get some hope soon. There'll be suicides. It's happened before. You know as well as I do that there were over 200 thousand people who landed on Icarus. Less than fifty years later, we're barely more than half that. People would rather take their own lives than live out there with no guarantee of water or food. People need to know that you're doing something for them, that there's a chance. That's why your job is so important. And we need you all now more than ever before."

  "Thank you, Kenzie," Joseph smiled, beaming proudly at his daughter. Then, turning back to the others, he said, "So that's your deadline. You need to find a water source and report back to us its location with enough time for us to relocate. I'd say about 4 weeks, give or take. That's total time, by the way. You have 4 weeks as of right now to find an ample water source and get back here to tell us where to find it. That should leave enough time with our supplies to relocate with minimal casualties. Or none, God-willing. Understood?"

  "Yes, sir," Abbas said, nodding.

  "Got it," Bell agreed.

  "No problem," Lowe grinned.

  "Hmph," Jesse grunted, not looking at anyone. "5 weeks would be better."

  "It'll be too late by 5 weeks," Mackenzie snapped, cutting off her father as he was about to respond. "You're not pretty enough to be this stupid."

  Mackenzie met Jesse's angry stare at the precise moment she realized what she'd said. She hadn't meant to say that, why had she said that? Now no one said a word while the tension mounted between her and the angry young Diviner.

  There were several seconds of total silence as Jesse and Mackenzie glared at one another, Mackenzie trying to hide her nerves. Finally, the silence was broken by Abbas, Bell and Lowe all cracking up laughing at once. Joseph was also trying to hide a grin and maintain an air of professionalism, though not with great success. Jesse simply glared daggers at Mackenzie, who, despite her pounding heart and disbelief that she had spoken like that to a Diviner, least of all Jesse, glared right back at him.

  "She takes after her father, I see," a new voice said gruffly, though not without amusement.

  All heads turned to see Commander Vasseur standing in the entrance, his eyes narrowed by half a smile as he glanced between Mackenzie and Joseph.

  "Don't take Jesse's pessimism personally, Mackenzie," Vasseur said. "He has his bad traits, as we all do. Though I admit, he is something of an acquired taste."

  "Acquire this, sir," Jesse sneered, grabbing his crotch.

  "Charming, as always," Vasseur sniggered.

  "Er, how's Inglis' family?" Mackenzie asked quietly.

  All humor suddenly vacated the room. Everyone became solemn and some even lowered their heads. Lowe took off his hat and quietly recited a prayer.

  "As well as one could be, I suppose," Vasseur finally said. "But as to the matter at hand, I believe, with Joseph's say-so, we should leave as soon as possible. But not without recruiting a replacement for Inglis."

  "Is there time for that?" Bell asked.

  "There'd better be," Lowe said, replacing his hat on his head. "He was our specialist."

  "It takes months to train a new Diviner," Joseph pointed out. "We only have a few weeks."

  "We don't have a choice, Joe," Vasseur shrugged. "We need a specialist."

  Joseph sighed heavily. "I know. But make it fast. I'll work on a list of suitable people and have it to you by morning. You can choose the best candidates from that list. For now, though, I think you all deserve a rest. Head home. See your loved ones. Get your strength back. I have a feeling the next few weeks are going to be rough. For all of us."

  Later that night, Mackenzie, Joseph and Lorelei were seated around the kitchen table and eating a small meal of what they could scrounge together. It wasn't much, just a sliver of gozard meat apiece and some gourd and bread. Mackenzie chewed on the tough meat and thought about how amazing that watermelon had looked. She'd forgotten to grab a slice, but was regretting it now.

  Lorelei looked equally unimpressed by her meal, though she was still smiling at Mackenzie. Lorelei had screamed when she saw Mackenzie's bionic hand and had fawned over it for hours, almost crying with happiness.

  "We'll have to do something special for Ethan," she had said several dozen times. "We'll make him his favorite meal or get some new tools made up for his work. Oh, that Ethan! I always loved him, he's such a good boy, Mackenzie!"

  Mackenzie knew Lorelei was hinting at Ethan becoming more than just a friend. It was a regular conversation between mother and daughter, but Mackenzie didn't think she felt that way about Ethan. Sure, he was attractive, in a goofy-dork kind of way, but they had grown up together. He was closer to a brother than a friend, anything more than that would be weird.

  While the Miller's ate dinner, Joseph worked silently on a tablet he had propped up beside his plate. He would type something on the holographic keyboard projected onto the table's surface, then pause to eat something, thinking, then return to the device to type some more. He was working on the list he had promised Sacha Vasseur. Every name he could think of that might suit the position of Diviner specialist.

  "Is there anyone you'd take with you?" Lorelei asked. "If you were still a Diviner? Who would you trust?"

  Joseph sighed and rubbed his knuckles into his eyes. "I don't know, dear. I've got about thirty people on this list and I'm not sure about a single one of them. Sure, they know their stuff. But do they have what it takes to survive out there? There's more to worry about in the deserts than just dehydration."

  "Like what?" Mackenzie asked, curious, though she already knew the answer she was going to get.

  "I'll tell you only when I want to traumatize you for life," Joseph replied, just as he had for years.

  "Come on," Mackenzie pleaded. "You never tell me anything about when you were a Diviner. Isn't there anything you can say? It can't be that bad."

  Joseph stared across the table at Mackenzie for a long while. It was becoming dark in the kitchen, a single bulb hanging overhead and lighting the room, though it was dim. The poor lighting above combined with the glow of the tablet screen in front of Joseph caused him to look gaunt, almost frightening. His eyes appeared sunken and reflected the white screen of his tablet, making his pupils seem milky white.

  "Kenzie," Joseph began, speaking softly, but his tone as stern as it had ever been. "I can't begin to tell you what horrors are out there. And I never will. I resigned from the Diviners when you were born because I knew that if I didn't, I would leave you without a father, one way or another. Either I would die out there, or I'd lose my mind. So yes, Kenzie, it is that bad."

  Mackenzie slowly looked away from her father and lowered her gaze to her plate. She resumed eating, the already tough meat suddenly seeming that much harder to swallow.

  Sleep was elusive that night for Mackenzie. It was a warm night, warmer than usual. Her tongue and throat were dry and she longed to go get a drink from the cooler, but knew that there wasn't much water left. Trying to ignore her thirst, Mackenzie rolled onto her side and closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep.

  The light of the moon shone in between the blinds on her window, casting long bars of shadows across the room. The gentle light played on Mackenzie's face, shining between her eyelids, making it that much more difficult to find sleep. Mackenzie opened her eyes and sighed heavily as she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. She tried to work up enough saliva in her mouth to combat the dryness, but that was a losing battle.

  Finally unable to take it any more, Mackenzie threw back the thin sheet and climbed out of bed. Treading carefully to make sure she didn't wake her parents, Mackenzie moved silently acr
oss her bedroom and made her way into the kitchen. Glancing towards her parents' closed bedroom door, she paused for a moment to listen, in case she had woken either of them. After holding her breath to listen, Mackenzie heard her father gently snoring. They were still asleep.

  Mackenzie reached out to the cooler with her hand and opened the door. The jug of water was low. They'd gotten a small ration late in the afternoon, but it was almost gone already. Then Mackenzie spotted the small glass of water she had left in the cooler that morning, she had forgotten all about it.

  Reaching out quickly, as though she expected the water to vanish, Mackenzie grabbed the glass and threw back the contents into her mouth. It wasn't much, less than a mouthful, but to Mackenzie's dry throat, it was the most satisfying thing she'd ever had. She sighed deeply, feeling relieved as the irritation in her throat began to subside and her tongue began to feel less like a dry sponge.

  Mackenzie then set the glass aside and closed the cooler door. She began to head back to bed, but still felt too wired to sleep. Instead she took a seat at the table, Joseph's tablet still there as he had resigned himself to bed, and began to study her new hand.

  It gleamed in the darkness, the steel reflecting where the light hit it. Mackenzie found it almost as easy to control now as her real hand, so smooth were the movements of the fingers, the twist of the wrist. She still didn't fully understand how Ethan had done it, but she loved him for it.

  Thinking of Ethan, she remembered something he had said to her that morning when he gave her the hand. He had said she wouldn't be restricted to the wells anymore. Her disability (Mackenzie frowned at the word she hated) was no longer holding her back. When she had become old enough to work, Joseph had insisted that she work in the wells because it was less physically demanding and he didn't want her to feel as though she couldn't keep up with others. While Mackenzie knew her father had meant well by this, she was a little resentful. Who decided that having one hand meant you weren't as capable as anyone else? She wanted to do something important. She wanted to help. She wanted to do more.

  Like the Diviners, she thought.

  They do more for the last of humanity in a single week than anyone else does in their entire lifetime. As soon as the thought occurred to her, Mackenzie knew that was the sort of thing she wanted to do with her life. She wanted to follow in the footsteps of her father, and her grandfather, Captain Steven Miller, both of whom had placed the survival of humanity above their own lives.

  Mackenzie sighed sadly as she dismissed the thought. Joseph would never allow her to do anything like that. He had spent her whole life making sure no harm came to her, there was no way he'd add her name to the list of possible recruits.

  Why shouldn't he, though? Mackenzie thought bitterly. I work in the wells. I know how to test water toxicity, I know how to purify water. I know just as much as anyone else on that list, maybe more! Dad did say I was the best hydrologist we'd had in years.

  But then she thought about how her father always spoke about the deserts of Icarus. How a glassy look would come over his eyes and he would lose all traces of a smile in an instant when the topic was touched on. He had said there were horrors out there that he was never going to tell Mackenzie about, so terrible they were likely to either kill mercilessly or drive one to madness. The thought of being out there, in the deserts, facing such things, made Mackenzie shiver, despite the warmth of the night.

  Inglis didn't come back, Mackenzie reminded herself. He was a veteran Diviner, and even he didn't survive.

  Mackenzie stared down at her bionic hand and slowly extended the fingers, then slowly curled them into a fist, then repeated the movements, watching carefully. She then looked sideways at the tablet her father had left on the table beside her. It had a list of names for Vasseur to call on, suitable replacements for Inglis. Joseph would never put her name on that list, Mackenzie knew.

  There was no way he'd let her become a Diviner.

  Mackenzie chewed on her bottom lip as she stared at the tablet.

  But still...