Wherewithat 3

"You will starve."

A woman's voice from behind. Marthi Flaardvoorst swung round, his sharpened pole held ready to strike. The darkness was impenetrable beneath the steel building where he sheltered. He backed slowly out into open space.

"Stop." the woman urged anxiously.

"You don't want to be seen here. No one and nothing is your friend here. Stand still."

Marthi's options closed in around him. He stood frozen and peered into the gloom. Slowly he resolved a small figure moving towards him. He fixed his pole on the figure and hissed through his teeth.

"Don't hurt her!"

Marthi lost balance as he turned rapidly to face the direction of the voice. How many were there? He turned left and right, seeing nothing but darkness, still trying to keep a fix on the figure stalking towards him. He looked quickly behind for an escape.

"If you run the dogs will have you. They are feeding, but will kill you and bury your body for later. We mean you no harm."

Marthi's head began to spin. Sweat poured from his scalp and down his back. His mouth was dry and he breathed heavily.

"Trust us." said the voice.

"There are only the two of us."

For Marthi, trust could only lead to betrayal and death. Death being the lesser of two options he had already faced. The option he had taken.

The small figure now stood in front of him, staring curiously at the point of his pole, poised to drive into her chest. The second person, the owner of the voice, stepped out of the shadows.

"Put the pole down. She won't hurt you. She is only a child."

Marthi shook his head. He had entered a surreal world. Children were a State secret, known only to those who lived and died in the nursery areas. Young adults were introduced to family units as fully formed and conditioned members of society - ready to enter the breeding programme. No one questioned this. Curiosity had been carefully removed from the human make-up over several generations. Any remnant was erased as necessary using the State's prized Personality Integration Technology, which included the process commonly known as blanking for particularly difficult cases. Marthi stared at the small child in front of him as if seeing a winged-horse for the first time.

"I am Varta." said the woman, now standing at his side.

Marthi shot his eyes from one to the other and back again, shaking violently. Varta gently raised her arm and pushed the pole down to point harmlessly at the floor.

"You need food. We can show you how to eat safely. Come with us."

Marthi had run out of the will to fight. There was something in Varta's voice and the steady stare of the small person in front that reached a part of him he had been unaware of until now. He crumpled to the ground where huge sobs shook his body. Marthi was all in. Without these strangers he probably would have fallen to the packs of wild dogs that night.

The child picked up his pole. Varta gently raised him and guided him under the building and away from the stinking fleischmeisterin cubicles. She touched the open sore on his upper arm curiously.

"This is my child, Hope. My daughter. What is your name?"

Marthi's head spun.

"I am Marthi. Marthi Flaardvoorst."

"Which one is your name?"

"Both of them" replied Marthi.

"My name is Marthi Flaardvoorst."

"Marthi Flaardvoorst." mimicked Hope. She giggled to her self as they started though a densely overgrown trail into the forest.

© Copyright Kevin Buckle 2012