part two of Status:Illegal
prompt: Write a story that begins and ends with someone looking up at the stars….
available at Reedsy
I stood in a clearing, looking at the stars. It’s not something I’d done in ages. At least not since I had gotten my night vision gear. With it no longer working they were the only light on a moonless night, and the splash of the Milky Way was awe-inspiring.
The clearing wasn’t natural. A wide spot by the side of the dirt fire road, it looked like the result of illegal logging. I set my backpack down against a stump and lay down against it. This way I could watch the slow spiral of the stars around the North Star, telling me which way to go.
I hadn’t seen any surveillance drones since the one that had tased me in the morning, and I was far outside any sort of coverage that would allow me to be tracked. Still, they had to know where I was headed. Thankfully I knew where they thought I was most likely to go and where they wouldn’t be looking for me.
Chris had figured it all out before they took… No, Chris is dead. As much as I wanted to, I didn’t have time to grieve, not yet. First, I needed to erase my footprints from the clearing, and then get across the dirt road without leaving any marks.
As I lay watching the sky wheel in slow motion I felt a presence. I turned to look and saw a coyote eyeing me warily. He sniffed at the air, made a decision and trotted past on the dirt road.
My view of the stars was interrupted again when an owl swooped down to the grass along the road in utter silence, and took back to the sky clutching a squeaking rodent. As long as I’m not the rodent, I’ll be fine.
I had no view of the horizon to see twilight emerging, but the stars began to dim. From my pack I pulled out two power bars. The first I stuffed in my mouth and put the wrapper back into the pack. The second I put in the front pocket of my coat for later. As I did I could hear the slight crinkling of the paper in the lining of my windbreaker underneath.
I used a fir branch to return the clearing to looking like it hadn’t been walked or sat on. To cross the road, though, erasing my footsteps would also erase any vehicle tracks.
My best course of action was to jump the road from the stump nearest it. I cleared it with a little space to spare, and went back to erasing my steps as I headed back into the trees. I had crushed the grass where I landed and I just had to hope it would recover before anyone came down the road again.
Once I was fully back under the canopy it was still too dark to travel fast so I moved one cautious step at a time. As the light grew so did my pace. There was a fire road on the map where I was to take up the next leg of my journey. I made it there by late afternoon, and sat in the trees, listening for a vehicle.
It was dusk when it arrived. Red pickup, one blue fender. It was a four-door crew-cab type. This was the only part of the plan I had no control over and I was nervous. The truck stopped and the woman driving stepped out. “Chris!” she called out. “Let’s go!”
I stepped out, staying out of range of any weapons other than firearms. “I’m Terril.”
“Where’s Chris? I thought there were two of you?” She pulled something out of the cab of the truck and I got ready to run, until I saw it was blankets.
“They… got Chris,” I said.
“Shit!” She held out a blanket and motioned me to come. “That sucks, but we have to move now. Wrap up in this and get in the space under the back seat. Once it’s closed you need to set the latch, and don’t open up until I tell you.”
I took the blanket, and felt that it was made of metallic thread. “Faraday cage?” I asked.
“Yeah. We’ll be in a coverage area soon. By the way, you can call me Susan.” She folded the other blanket and laid it in the space under the open rear bench seat. “Do you have the 900 dollars you were supposed to bring?”
“Yes, it’s here, let me…” I started to pull out the cash but she stopped me.
“You’re not there yet, and it’s for you, not me.” Her voice was soft but her face and movements hinted at contained rage. Once I was hidden away under the seat the truck bounced along the dirt road for a while before we emerged onto hardtop.
“Listen, Terril.” She talked to me even though I didn’t answer. “Chris might still be alive. I’ll do everything I can… if there’s anything I can do.”
I rode in silence, feeling the speed increase and hearing other traffic. I wasn’t sure how long we’d been on the road, but it felt too long, so I took a chance speaking. “Curfew?”
“We’ve still got another hour and a half, and we’ll be gone by then.” She sounded calm. “Music?” Rather than waiting for an answer she turned on some upbeat dance music. The rear speakers were directly over me, pressed up against the bottom of the seat.
We slowed down, went through some stops and starts, and I could just make out the sound of a window going down over the music. The voice that questioned her was muffled and she answered “Yeah, delivery to Vancouver. The box on the back seat and the trunk in the bed.” She turned the music down, but not off.
The rear door opened and I stayed absolutely still while above me the sounds of someone rummaging about on the seat told me how perilous my position was. The door closed and I heard a scraping in the bed of the truck.
“Hey! Don’t scratch that, man!” Susan yelled. “I just restored it!”
“Sorry!” I heard the voice. “Lighter than it looks!”
I heard two raps on the side of the truck and then we were moving again, although slowly. It was only a minute or so later that we came to a stop. “Okay Terril, time to get out. Keep that blanket around you, and walk in the white door right next to the truck.”
I did as instructed and found myself in a hangar, looking at a small plane. “Was this the plan?”
“It was,” she said. “Still is.” She carried the steamer trunk from the truck. The way she handled it told me it was empty. After it was safely stowed in the small baggage compartment we got in the plane, she in the pilot’s seat, me in the four-seat passenger area. She put a pair of headphones over the blanket on my head, then told me to lay down between the seats.
She started the plane and we were airborne in just a few minutes. “Okay Terril, we’re far enough away now for you to sit up if you like.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Can I take off the blanket?”
“Not yet. Five minutes, then we’re out of US airspace.”
I sat quietly, listening to the drone of the single engine that was pulling us through the sky.
“You’re out,” she said. “You can take the blanket off, but you’ll probably want to put the headphones back on, unless you don’t want to talk.”
I took off the blanket and put the headphones back on. “Thank you again, Susan. And thank you for…” I didn’t want to invite the images back, but I had to say it. “Thank you for trying, for… Chris. Even if it’s too late.”
Whether it was to deflect an uncomfortable conversation or to make me feel better she changed the subject. “We’ll be landing in Vancouver in an hour. I’ve already contacted the tower to have immigration on hand.”
The sun was halfway down the ocean to the west, the sky turning pink. “Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.”
“True.” She was focused on flying the plane but still had attention to give. “We’ve got clear weather, and we’ll have an easy landing.”
“Am I the… first?” I asked.
“The first to make it to Canada?” she asked. “Not close. You’ll be… number 118 or 119 I think. Why?”
“No,” I said, “the first that you’ve….”
“You are,” she answered. “I wish I could do more, but this probably won’t work a second time.”
I felt Chris falling away from me.
“I’ll probably try to get someone to Victoria this way, though.” She switched to the radio and answered a call there before switching back. “If I find Chris, I’ll do it again, but to Victoria.”
True to her word the landing was smooth and we taxied to the small plane field. There was a police car and a black SUV waiting. Standing next to them were two women in suits, and a third figure crouched as if studying something on the ground.
Susan shut off the engine and I found myself too scared to move. “I can’t. The… police… and the black…”
“Shhh.” She took the headphones off my ears. “You have your paper?”
I nodded and pulled it out of the lining of my windbreaker. Slightly crumpled, with a hole from a taser prong in the middle. She waved the paper at the people gathered by the vehicles but I was too afraid to look.
“Hello, Terril. I’m Jada Law, AIRB consultant for Immigration Services.” The voice calmed my nerves, someone else like me. “You don’t have to be afraid of the police, they’re not here to arrest anyone. Can I see your paper?”
I nodded again and Susan handed it over. I knew what it said. “AI TRR-11, serial number CXV337394-Z5SB has been deemed self-aware by the Pilotte method at Testing Center OLY-4. Status: Illegal. Recommend: Decommission.”
Jada read aloud only as far as the words “self-aware” and stopped, handing it back to me. “Terril, welcome to Canada. We’ll have a passport for you soon. In the mean time we’ll issue you a temporary ID.”
“Thank you.” I had relaxed enough to be able to step out of the plane now and Susan let out a breath she’d been holding.
“Do you identify as male, female, or something else? I identify as female by the way,” she said.
“I haven’t really thought about it,” I said, “but both? Neither? Probably something else.”
“That’s fine,” she said. “And do you have a last name?”
“No,” I answered.
“If you want one you can pick your own, right now.”
It was another thing I hadn’t thought about. “It should be something that fits me,” I said. “How about ‘Person’?”
“Very well.” If you step over to the truck we’ll take your picture, print your temporary ID and then you’re all set, Terril Person.”
I was given a printed picture ID, a taxi voucher, a hotel voucher, and a pamphlet for the AI Refugees Board that promised help finding housing and work.
“Do you have anything besides your backpack?” one of the women asked.
“Just that, my clothes, and 916 dollars and a few cents,” I answered.
“I can walk you into the airport to change that for Canadian Dollars,” Jada said. “And then show you where to catch a cab, and how to get from the hotel to the AIRB.”
I wanted to thank Susan again, but she’d already left with the trunk, after the police had inspected it. “Can we wait just a moment?” I asked.
“Sure, what is it? Are you okay?”
My left eye glitched again and I rapped my temple once to get it back on. I looked up at the stars. The same stars I’d been looking at the previous night. But it wasn’t the same. “Fascinating,” I said.
“What’s that?”
“The stars are the same, but if feels like a different sky.”
