Barrier

As the sun slowly dipped west, the sky behind the Barrier took on a midnight blue hue. The sight was astonishing, perhaps even beautiful to someone unfamiliar with the context of the energy barrier. It was as if, just beyond the quivering wall of air, time had decided to play a trick on us and accelerate by a few hours. I contemplated for a moment, stopping a few meters from the Barrier. I rubbed my shoulder, aching from the slung rifle. The pile of pseudo-huts made of corrugated iron, wood, and God knows what else was growing day by day. Refugees were arriving at an alarming rate, but parcels of water, food, and basic tools were not. It seemed as if someone wanted to test the resilience of these poor people in the spartan conditions. Every fifty meters stood a meter-and-a-half-wide monolith, which, as you approached, hummed in a steady rhythm. The Barrier stretched between them. On every monolith was a sign:

"This is not a military barrier.

This is an ECOLOGICAL BARRIER.

Until the quarantine ends,

do not attempt to cross

or damage it under penalty of death."

For those who had trouble reading, powerful loudspeakers blared the same message hourly.

"This is not a military barrier..."

The threats were not a bluff. In the distance, the shapes of entrenched firing positions loomed, a heavily armed patrol passed by every now and then, and the sky was sporadically streaked by fighter jets. After a short rest, I moved on. I took off my blue helmet and strapped it to my belt. A moment later, I pulled out my notebook. My task was to observe the refugees and report on practically everything. From local migrations to the behavior of individual individuals. Command wanted the fullest picture of the disaster possible. No one on this side of the Barrier, at least no one outside the top brass, knew what had actually happened there, on the forbidden side. Everyone speculated, most claiming it was an epidemic of some unknown virus. In any case, the scale of the undertaking indicated the seriousness of the matter. I greeted a patrol I passed in the distance. They had passed quite a distance, as few could get as close to the Barrier as I had. This allowed me to observe the people vegetating on the other side. The sun had already set, and the night revealed another feature of the energetic boundary. The enclosed area looked brighter and clearer, as if twilight had paused, preventing night from extending its dominion. Observations continued after dusk, but my watch was long over. I returned to the barracks to report.

As soon as I cleared the briefing, I headed to my tent and cleared out my belongings. Heat and the rest of the guys were already in the canteen by this time, so I headed there. A large, air-conditioned tent served as bar, casino, and eatery. By this time, it was already largely full. Heat was playing cards with some naive guys.

"What's up, Heat?" I greeted him and turned to the other players. "Watch out for him; when he's done with you, you'll have to borrow money for the train home.

" "Come on, Nick, the guys are doing well," he winked at me knowingly.

"I'm going for a beer," I announced. I'd seen him do this dozens of times. First, he lets the youngsters lead, get excited about the possibility of winning big, and when they finally decide to play for big stakes, he beats them mercilessly. But he still had plenty of players willing to play—everyone wanted to beat Heat. "

Take one for me too!" "He shouted after me, not looking up from his cards. I think he'll make at least as much from his paycheck again. When I return, I see him scraping a hefty pile of cash from the table, and the sour young soldiers are getting up from the table. Heat leaves one of the bills on the table.

"I'm buying, today's a good day." Smiling, he lights a cigarette.

"Has this been a streak since this morning?" I ask, taking a sip of beer. Heat exhales heavily and nods.

"I had patrols this morning. I'm telling you, Nick. It's a real mess here. I saw a similar mess in Rwanda, fifteen years ago..."

"Are you some kind of fucking eternal soldier?" I interrupted his story.

"Come on. I was a teenager then. My mother was a biologist, working on the African continent. Belgian soldiers escorted us. On the way, we passed Tutsi refugee camps.

"What was it like?" "Is it the same as here?" I asked,

"It's relatively peaceful here." Heat didn't worry about exhaling smoke, letting a blue mist carelessly drip from his mouth as he spoke. "But that's only the beginning. Wait until they organize. When they get to the packages.

" "But there were black people there. Living half-wildly. No wonder there was violence." "

Black, not black. It's human nature." He patted his chest. "We're all the same, we carry black souls inside." "

I don't think so, Heat. Those events are in the past. We're here to maintain order now." I contradicted my companion.

"Nick..." the other sighed. "We're here to make sure no one gets out..."

"We maintain order and the Barrier..." I objected, this time more quietly.

"Let's have a drink. Go get two more beers." He asked, holding out money. "I don't feel like reminiscing about my childhood today." We'll get drunk and I'll tell you how I became an adult," he concluded, bursting into raucous laughter.

The persistent sound of my alarm clock roused me from my light sleep. My headache was taking its toll, but duty compelled me to get up. A quick toilet and breakfast, then a routine briefing, and back to my rounds. A few improvised shelters had appeared overnight. People flocked to the Barrier, fleeing the unknown evil that was creeping inland. About halfway through my rounds, I approached the Barrier itself. A young girl was hanging laundry nearby. I thought I'd seen her a few times before. She lived in a hut quite close to the border. She, with her parents. She was still young, but proud enough to raise her head and fix me with a cold gaze. At least that's how I perceived it, as the distance blurred her features and expression. I watched her disappear into the gray-brown hut where she lived with her father and mother. I moved on.

"In my opinion, humanitarian aid should be increased by at least thirty percent to meet the needs of the refugees." I finished my verbal briefing for my daily report. Major Knuckles looked at the report again and cleared his throat.

"We're already maxing out our support program for these people..." He hesitated. "We have to wait for additional funding from the UN.

" "We need help now. The wave of emigrants is increasing daily," I interjected in a low voice. The Major glanced at me, then buried his nose in the report again.

"We understand that... You may leave."

I saluted reluctantly and headed for the exit.

"You're doing a great job, Nick. Keep it up," I heard from the doorway. "

Thank you, Major," I replied quietly.

Evening was approaching inexorably. Even though I no longer felt sleepy from my afternoon nap, I had no desire to go on patrol. For a moment, I fought the temptation to check on the medic and beg for leave due to a temporary indisposition. However, I fought the thought and forced myself to drink a strong, sweet coffee. I gathered my gear and notes and set off. The march through the rocky desert wasn't the most comfortable, but at least the rusty sand and stones provided solid footing for my combat boots. As every day, I spotted a few new huts, and it was clear that in some places people were organizing themselves. Unfortunately, they were more likely to form gangs of men who could decide the future life and death of the remaining refugees. I hoped that if the frequency of food drops were increased, peace would be maintained. I made corrections in my notebook. The sun was inexorably sinking below the horizon, and with each passing moment, the space beyond the barrier became clearer and brighter than on my side. Despite this, I didn't notice them. Only as I was writing another report did I notice the sheet of paper reflecting an uncertain, flickering light. At that same moment, the faint hum of the energy pylons fell silent. The silence lasted only a fraction of a second. The broken barrier between the spires gaped black, contrasting sharply with the view beyond the active fragments. Running footsteps and silhouettes emerged from the darkness several dozen meters away. The sheets of report paper scattered chaotically as I reached for the rifle slung across my back.

"Stop! You're violating the quarantine zone!" I shouted, feeling a wave of hot sweat run down my back. They turned their heads towards me for only a moment, then ran on. I fired a short burst into the sky. The rifle roared, spitting a handful of deadly bullets. Their silhouettes shrank, but they continued running. All but one, who turned towards me. Something flashed, and a moment later, a heated bullet whizzed through the air next to me. With an ingrained, almost automatic reflex, I threw myself to the ground. Another flash, and a mound of earth scattered beside me. I uncovered the scope and put it to my eye. The faint silhouette of the shooter loomed in my viewfinder. I felt the switch above the trigger, and a green haze filled my vision. In the night vision, the target was clearer, but no longer human. A bright blur. He's not human, I repeat to myself. My hands sweat as I try to find the trigger again. I fire once, twice... The spot shrinks. I squeeze the trigger twice more. Somewhere nearby, the lights of speeding Humvees flash, and I hear the rumble of heavy machine guns mounted on their turrets. I hear helicopters too, but I can't locate them against the cloudy sky. The gunfire stops, trucks and armored Humvees converge, stopping before the damaged section of the Barrier, aiming their rifles at the dark spot. The message is clear. Men in white overalls, face masks, get out of the trucks. Some head for the disabled pylons, others for the man I shot. They secure the area, put the body in a container, and cover it with what looks like lime from this distance. I stand quite close to the barrier, resting the barrel of my rifle on the ground, trying to get my bearings. Jesus... is it true that I just killed a man? Someone is standing just beyond the barrier. I raise my head. It's the girl I've seen a few times before. She's beautiful. I immediately scold myself for the thought, remembering what I've just done. But I can't tear my eyes away from her. She stands so proud, she doesn't need to say anything; her gaze is my judge, my tribunal, my executioner. I shake my head as if to deny something. I want to say something, but nothing makes sense now; there's only her—beautiful, proud, cursing me with her eyes. Finally, she turns away from me and walks away. Somewhere nearby, a loudspeaker screamed:

"This isn't a military barrier..."

The canteen was bustling with activity, as usual from this time on. The air conditioning wasn't working, so the atmosphere was thick with alcohol fumes and smoke. And also with gambling, although this time Heat was betting on them. The two of us were chatting at a shabby table just beneath the canvas wall of the tent. Heat leaned conspiratorially over the table and asked again,

"Don't you remember? Young, about your age... He was in the carrier with us when they brought us here."

"Ah!" I slapped my forehead, maybe a little too hard from the alcohol, but for the same reason the pain was already dulled. "I remember! Such a short boy... How was he?

" "Daniel," Heat reminded me. "They took him for surveillance and radar control."

"Good job. He won't get tired of fucking walking around there." I crushed another beer can.

"He won't get tired because he's gone. They transferred him back to Mount Kenna this morning. And you know what for?" Heat asked. "

Wait... It was that computer geek... He probably screwed with some device on the night shift." I tried a joke.

"Almost Nick, almost." Heat laughed. "I don't know how, but he got the photos.

" "What photos?" I asked impatiently as Heat lit another cigarette.

"From the Barrier. Right in the middle of it," he replied, exhaling smoke. I sobered instantly and fixed him with a questioning gaze.

I walked along the barrier again. I passed the places where we had stopped the escapees. The ground was covered with a white substance where bodies had lain.

"There's no virus," Heat's words came to mind. I'd stopped taking notes for a while now; today I didn't even have a notebook. "Inside, the earth is gray, like dust on the moon." I glanced at the horizon beyond the barrier. How many more days did the gray death have before it crawled towards these poor, dilapidated huts? "It's spreading in all directions. From the North, it's already reached the Barrier, but it'll be two or three weeks before it arrives here. Daniel showed me photos of a settlement like this one, which was surrounded by dust. Piles of bodies lay right next to the Barrier." A group of people demolished a hut, dragging its inhabitants outside. "The barrier stops the dust. But nothing would stop such a wave of refugees. It's politics, Nick. This land is scorched, it won't produce crops. No one will take in such a mass of people."

I ran to the Barrier. A girl, the same one I'd seen earlier, was running into her hut. The barrier effectively muffled sounds, but the sight of the swaying metal sheets and shattering makeshift windows left no doubt. Two men pulled her father from inside. One knocked him to the ground and began kicking him, the other mercilessly pummeled him with a metal bar. Another commotion in the hut, and the girl tried to leave. Her desperately outstretched hand flashed across the threshold, but then the figure was pulled inside. I screamed something, I'm not sure what. The rifle stock had long since crumbled from methodically striking the Barrier. The two executioners returned to the hut, dragging the girl's mother out. They beat her in the same manner as her husband. I don't know how much time passed; on my side, it was already dark. The men patrolling the area trudged along, heads bowed sadly, as if they'd just realized they were guarding the Barrier, not the people behind it. Dawn was slowly breaking when the door to the hut opened again. I looked up. A girl. Holding the remains of her torn clothing, she limped toward the Barrier. Up close, I saw bruises and scratches on her arms, thighs, and face. A patch of dried blood on her lips and near her nose. I placed my hands on the Barrier, as if to hug her. Then, only then, did she burst into tears. She curled into herself, suddenly so small, as if she'd never have the strength to raise her head and look at anyone again. Sitting, she leaned against the Barrier. Her body shook with silent spasms of sobbing. Everything was wrong; even I was on the wrong side of the Barrier. In the morning, someone dragged me back to camp, and the next day they sent me back to Mount Kenna.

A good month later, when I was back in civilian life and had saved up some money, I went to Talle. I hired a pilot, and we set off in a small plane from there, near the barrier. The pilot said he would land no closer than ten kilometers from the barrier, due to military orders, which, though greatly diminished, still guarded the area. He agreed to come with me, however. He had never seen the barrier. It made a great impression on him even from a distance. The booming pylons, the shimmering air... But only up close did the barrier reveal its charms. Skeletons lay one on top of the other, clinging to the barrier. Gray dust still covered large swaths of ground here and there. The pilot whistled. "

I read it in the newspapers, but to see it with my own eyes... I heard most of them killed themselves before the vaccine arrived...

The vaccine. Another lie for the masses.

" "Like barbarians," the pilot added unnecessarily.

"The entire civilization was here, beyond the Barrier," I said. "It was a few centimeters beyond that shimmering air." As I spoke, I touched the Barrier with my fingers. "

Let's go back." I decisively turned away from the Barrier and headed back, leaving the surprised pilot behind.