Tala nodded “Ship Hoppers.”
“Ship Hoppers?” Gennady cocked a bushy, salt and pepper eyebrow.
“These men, who choose not to leave. We call them Ship Hoppers at space. Institutionalized, they forget how to survive in the real world.”
“I pity them,” Gennady said, sadly. “This is no life, here there is no future. Just a hunk of decaying metal, slowing upon its axis and manned by the dead. I’m ready to have my life back.”
It had been a long time since Tala had allowed her fingernails to grow so long, she marvelled at the striated keratin that pushed passed the tip of her finger. The surface was scratched and knurled and the edges unkempt, but their length and shininess suggested a strange femininity. Thin strips of curled poster paint had accumulated beneath her index fingernail where she had clawed sight holes into the body of District Four and now she waited for Gennady to emerge from his office. It had been a peculiarly nerve wracking hour of waiting since they had returned to Gennady’s cell under the glare of Ilya’s men.
Ilya stood, obscured in the frosted glass, but his giant form obvious, stooped over what appeared to be the eldest man who had slunk away before Tala had been first presented to Gennady. Tala remembered the man’s wide head and densely curled black hair which thinned at the crown beneath which he wore a neatly clipped, grey and black walrus moustache. He’d appeared younger than Gennady but exuded an aura of dotage. Tala suspected that the bullish Ilya was a mere puppet for the man, a muscular automaton for his machinations. She recalled the name Kirill from some unremembered recess of her memory. Tala wondered how long the man had waited for a catalyst like herself and Katja.
“I don’t feel safe here.” Said Katja, she had been quiet since they had returned to Gennady’s room. Despite the comparative warmth of the cell, Katja had pulled the coverlet over her jumpsuit.
“Me neither,” Tala tried to give Katja a reassuring smile, but anxiety gnawed at her starving gut. “I don’t think safety is a common commodity here.”
Tala watched one of Ilya’s men dart for the wheeled cart, he snatched away a few hermetically sealed foil packets which shimmered in the artificial light, before being chased away by Andrei and two other men loyal to Gennady. It was the second time she had seen a such a display, the man would be allowed so much time at the crate before their opponents approached with intent. It was like watching little birds fight over seeds.
“Has Gennady come out yet?”
“No.”
“I don’t like this.”
Tala was about to respond when the door to Gennady’s office opened. “I think he’s coming out now.”
After a moment Gennady walked wearily from his office with a limp that hadn’t been apparent when he paced behind his conference table desk. Through the scratched out poster paint and frosted glass the scene appeared blurry, Tala thought she could see Gennady usher a man away. She assumed he didn’t want to appear partisan.
Men on Ilya and Kirill’s side catcalled, words Tala knew to be Russian expletives pierced the tense silence like knives. The fragile order these twelve men had come to share for four years was coming to an end. She imagined Gennady’s supporters tensing as he strode unguarded into the middle of District Four and stood beside the cart of supplies. For a second, the man assigned to guard Katja and Tala sidestepped into Tala’s sights before disappearing from view.
“Brothers’ please hush.” Gennady’s old voice wavered over the thrum of the generator.
“We are no longer your brothers, Gennady,” Ilya spread his arms out as if encompassing those around him. “It is time you step aside.”
Gennady stood very still, staring down his opposition. “You will be pleased to hear I intend to.”
There was a surprised hush followed by muttered babble.
“But first,” Gennady continued. “Please let me ask you. Who will come with me?
“As you are surely aware, we have been graced by two visitors one of which is a spacefarer on a wayward merchant vessel. For four years, we have existed here, not lived. Four years of the same faces, the same routine while our loved ones slowly forget we exist. We live and yet we are mourned! Up to now, our only visitor has been the ghastly infected. Desperate to draw us into their ranks, desperate to give reasoning to our loved ones loss.
“We are afforded an opportunity, today, to leave this place. To leave this purgatory and return to our families, return to our friends.
“We know that District Seven know of this ship. We cannot dally. Igor will no more let us willingly leave than the infected or them,” Gennady gestured toward the faded graffiti. “I will be leaving tonight. I ask you, all of you, regardless of your allegiance, who will come with me?”
Some of the men around Ilya had bowed their heads. In the end the coup had been a peaceful one and brief, now they couldn’t look at their once appointed leader square in the face. They shuffled their feet while the men stood behind Gennady raised their arms. Those loyal to Gennady, Jamal was easily identifiable, so was long haired Andrei. They numbered four, five including the deposed autocrat who had raised his own arm.
“Why should we leave?” Asked one man, Tala was unable to identify him “We are safe here. If we leave we will die.”
“Our runner has left countless times and both our visitors came from beyond our domain,” Tala could hear incredulity creeping into Gennady’s voice. “We are safe for now, but we cannot exist here forever. The supplies have grown dangerously low. As far as we know this vessel is the first to dock here since our transporter smashed into it.”
The man Tala established as Kirill walked from the shadow of Ilya. “Men, do not listen to this zmeya,” his voice was high and fluting. “I never asked for this teacher to reign sovereign over me, I remember no election, I was detained beside him in Norilsk. He is weak, he subverts, he would sell out his other prisoners to guards so his letters would be sent home. Where are our supplies? Gennady. I don’t doubt he and his monkey boy know. I don’t doubt that is where they intend to go.”
“Madness, Kirill. You speak utter, unfounded madness. Are you suggesting I am intending to simply relocate with the supplies? That I have been knowingly stockpiling them elsewhere? If that were the case why would I offer for you to join me?”
Katja had shuffled up beside Tala and pressed into her, the cover still wrapped around her soft body. Katja had surely heard the spiralling conversation beyond the glass, muted though it was. “This is what happens when you introduce women into a male-only society.” She tried to smile, but her face betrayed her fear.
Tala felt it too. Kirill was desperate, there was surely some truth in Katja’s musing. The arrival of women had allowed Kirill to pervert the weakest men, to bend them to his will. She caught snippets of the conversation outside. “Thin you out… insane!” But she no longer listened, her mind rushed forewarning dread. “Katja, we need to leave. Now.”
What little colour remained in Katja’s round face drained away. Her skin turned white at Tala’s cold command. “How?”
“I don’t know, but we can’t…” Tala’s thought was shattered as something began to pound the guardroom door.
“YOU! You led them to us!” Tala returned her eye to the small scratched out sights. Kirill pointed at Gennady as the men backed away from the guardroom entrance. The iron bars rattled in their strikes. “Slash and burn. Slash and burn – Gennady and his lackies intend to kill District Four so that they may survive. This is treachery!”