Episode 18 - The Poppies' Secret
“Ada, will you sit down?”
Terra gives her best impression of a scowl up at me, though to my eye she looks more like a puppy that’s about to sneeze. I shrug and make a show of inspecting my arrows, clearly too busy for such nonsense.
Terra sprawls on her back, pillow tucked under her head, taking in the clouds and the nodding poppies. The landscape bleeds out around us, thousands of crimson heads on emaciated hairy stalks. They shiver with the breeze that snakes its way around the crumbling, vast buildings. The ancient landscape hisses with their movement.
I watch the ruins for any birds that might flee their roosts. How can they stand to nest in this place? I wish that I was anywhere else, but I’m the eldest sister and that role doesn’t stop just because we’re long past our first menses. If Terra stays, I stay.
All the same, I nudge her with my foot.
“All right…” Terra tosses the pillow at my face. She hauls herself up on her sticks.“You get your birds–“
“Our birds. You’ll eat them too.”
“And I’ll be over there. The one with the dish.”
I squint at skeletal circular building visible among the dirt. It’s surrounded by the huge arachnid figures of contorted metal that pepper the landscape. Before I can refuse, Terra’s off. Despite her body having been twisted in the womb, she’s fast. Her swinging gait takes her across the field at a gallop. I stomp after her.
The building stinks of rust and has a strange undercurrent to it that I can taste, like the air before lightning. Deeper into the gloom, the light slides into blue hues that I can’t explain. My muscles tighten in anticipation. Terra is inside, crouched over a sweep of whiteish metal. It jitters into blue light. Her eyes are as wide as her grin.
“ACTIVATION ACKNOWLEDGED.” A tinny voice sounds out of nowhere. I clatter forward and haul her back.
“God’sspit, get away!” I hiss. The ghost gives a toneless short whistle.
“Get off!” Terra shoves me. I drag her down anyway. With the whistle finished the only sound is a thin hum on the edge of hearing that makes me itch. Like that ghost of a voice is sitting in the metal around us. I hold my breath. Even Terra does.
Finally, I dare to whisper.
“Why would you touch it?”
“It glowed at me.” Terra whined. “I’ve seen it before. A couple of months ago. But it faded. It stayed this time.”
“It’s a lure.”
“It’s not.”
“This place is haunted, of course it’s a lure!” My jaw tightens at the infuriating way her brown eyes search mine, her eyebrows lifted in challenge like I’m a fool. Ada the big one. Sensible one. Only good for skinning prey. Terra with the knotted-up spine, but brains that braid the world together in ways that the likes of me can’t untangle. Easy to be a dreamer when you don’t have any other responsibilities.
“Do you know why there’s so many poppies?” I hiss with childish venom in my voice, back from the days where I enjoyed scaring her. The storm-battered nights where she’d listen wide eyed to my borrowed tales of hags and wolves. “The soil. It’s fertile with spilled blood. They grow on battlegrounds, Terra, and creep through the ribcages of the dead. Under your feet there are miles of the ancient ones’ bodies. What makes you think that their ghosts don’t linger? They wiped themselves out and they want your soul instead!”
Terra falters. But her expression hardens. She jerks her arm away.
“No. It’s not like that. These are echoes.” Terra looks, uneasy, back to the glowing slab. With determination, she walks away from me. I don’t know whether I’m angrier at her defiance or humiliated that she doesn’t fear my stories any more. I relent. I stay put.
Terra presses the panel. The voice returns and I resist the urge to rush forward and protect her.
“ACCESSING: LOG. PLAYBACK BLOCKED. DNA CODE REQUIRED FOR MESSAGE AUTHENTICATION.”
I can’t help but creep closer. Terra studies the screen. I’m quiet beside her. A shape appears like a palm and she finally looks at me. She waits. I nod.
When Terra puts her palm on the shape the whole contraption comes to life.
“DNA CODE LOGGED. RETRIEVING PERSONALISED MESSAGE ARCHIVE.”
We clasp hands and I pull her close. The slab jumps and flickers. Then, like magic, we’re face to face with another person. Like a portrait, he is isolated to a frame. He wears a material I’ve never seen before: smooth like sealskin. Behind him are rolling hills and the crawling metal spiders. They sit patiently as pets as thousands of people move around them. All dressed alike. This man has a friendly face. Something familiar in it. He isn’t looking at us, but through us.
Echoes.
“This is the log of private Archer, 07/07/2244. It starts tomorrow. They say we’re to stay stationed here. The enemy will come to us. It suits me, you know how they say that knights were always at the advantage in their own castle? It’s good. It’s good.”
His smile goes on too long.
“Look. You all keep out of the way and keep safe. Survive. Humans have to survive. I’ll see you soon. Be brave. I love you.”
The image cuts out. We exhale.
“Are you OK?” I breathe. Terra nods and squeezes my hand.
“That’s not a ghost.”
“I know.”
There’s one message left on the screen, flashing gently. I place my hand on the display, but the message doesn’t change.
“ALL LOGS COMPLETED FOR DNA CODE #2346. DO YOU WISH TO VIEW LOGS FOR FURTHER DNA CODES?”
“That message was made for us.” Terra says, frowning. “What if there’s more? For other people? We could find them.”
We step away and I look to that great sprawling poppy field. I think of all the bodies in the soil.
“We can try.”
About the author
Leanne Williams is an all-round creative from Sheffield, squeezing in art and writing in between a day job and helping run the Blank Street Writers group. She loves writing about seeing the ordinary in the extraordinary. Follow her on Twitter.