“Now isn’t the time, Zoe,” Lyric says. I get the feeling Zoe gets told that a lot. I can’t tell for sure because the resolution on the screen isn’t great, but I’m pretty sure she rolls her eyes.
“Unless I’m mistaken, now is precisely the time. We have days, days, until Earth II unleashes a particular brand of hell like we’ve never seen, and your precious doctor is taking his sweet time perfecting the cure.”
A new voice interrupts off-screen. “If by taking his sweet time you mean I’m trying to save your life and the lives of everyone you care about, then yes, I’m absolutely taking my time. Better to do that than lose people I could have saved.”
“There will be no one left to save if everyone is dead,” Zoe retorts.
“Enough,” Hadrian interjects. “The both of you will do your jobs without the fighting or we’ll leave you here to fend off the Kevins together.”
Breccan looks at Hadrian with pride, like he’s looking at a son who has just grown into a man. “Hadrian is right. We don’t have time for fighting amongst ourselves. We must remain strong to fight against the Kevins. Avrell, can you accomplish this task? I have faith in you, but I must ask.”
“We can and we will,” Avrell says with a pointed look at Zoe, who avoids his gaze.
Hmm, well, there’s definitely something going on there.
Their conversation devolves into details about Avrell’s protocols for treating The Rades. Much as I want to listen and note down the information, I’m distracted when Oz begins to tug at my arm. “What?” I ask, somewhat impatiently. Legolas twitters in indignation.
“Come with me. There’s something I want to show you.”
“But don’t we have to be here for the rest of the briefing?” I whisper back.
“They’ve covered the most important things. Besides, we have nothing to worry about now, my Whisper. We’re going to be just fine.”
How can I worry when I have him next to me?
The sound of the morts and their mates fades as he pulls me down a corridor, then a few flights of stairs. “Where are we going?” I ask.
He lifts a device that looks like what I would imagine a device would be if an old-fashioned lantern and a flashlight mated and had a baby. Light spills around us and he gestures ahead. “The Reserves. Breccan showed us this place he’d been keeping a secret after our test run of the thermablaster. He has all sorts of neat things down here and I want to see what he’s been keeping from us.”
Lured by the prospect of a marauding mission like a pirate of old, I stay close behind him. Legolas leaps from my shoulder and lands nimbly on the cavernous wall. From there he scurries ahead happily chittering. “What sorts of neat things?”
“I didn’t get to see much, but Galen found a rekk ton of seedlings in one of the bins. I don’t think he’ll forgive Breccan for that any time soon. We almost starved after The Rades killed most of our people and Galen nearly broke down not being able to provide more for us when we needed him most. Maybe I owe the mortarekker an apology. He knows as well as I do how much pressure that can be.”
“Seedlings?” I muse, wondering what varieties there could be. Were there any plants still useable from the old Earth? Things that may be similar to what it had been like before it had been destroyed by radiation?
“It should be just up here,” Oz says, pushing through a final door.
The room is illuminated by a single line of bulbs, most of which have blown. Shelves stacked with bins to the ceiling line the walls, neatly labeled and organized into different groups. Near me, I see labels like: medications, cleansers, utensils, tools, organization, miscellaneous, and toiletries. While I move closer to the shelf, Oz opens another on the far side of the room.
Inside a new box, I find items that are alarmingly similar to items I’d find on Earth II. They include cotton balls and swabs, paracord or something identical, what I think is candle wax, some sort of tape and cable ties, and sewing materials. In another, I find water purification tablets, hand cleanser, a bleach substitute, garbage bags, and a smaller plastic type of storage bag.
Realization dawns.
These rekkers were doomsday preppers!
I close the containers and cross the room to where Oz is sorting through another bin. He’s sitting cross-legged on the ground and I join him, happily pulling out another bin and eagerly opening and delving into its contents. Legolas skitters around the room, using the bins and shelves as his own personal playground.
Inside the bin, I find a gold mine. A gasp of pleasure escapes my lips as I pull out thick volumes with foreign text on the covers. I don’t think it’s an alien language. Maybe it’s something from before. There were hundreds of languages on Earth before the radiation wiped out their speakers. I can’t wait to take these back to the library and analyze them with Uvie.