Notes

Dome Nation — The Trade
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Omelia was accused of conspiring against Dome City soldiers. But a mysterious merchant made a deal with the officer to buy her out. You can read part one here.
“Wake up!” one of the soldiers barked, opening the cage.
Omelia wasn’t sleeping, the shivering kept her awake. A tiny portable heater in the corner was not doing any good. She turned to the soldiers. It was time already? Strange. She thought it would be harder. She was ready to feel anger, regret, remorse, anything but there was only coldness.
“Move it!” the soldier spat, impatiently hitting the bars with his rifle.
She stood up and walked out. At the exit of the cage, she saw a strange man looking at her through some idiotic goggles.
“They ran out of visors?” she grinned.
The man huffed and waved to the soldiers.
“I’ll take it from here. Thank you, friends.”
Omelia frowned, looking at the soldiers. They returned to the table and picked dice to continue the game as if nothing had just happened.
“What’s going on?” she said.
“Nothing to be afraid of,” replied the man in goggles. “My name is Ehmet. Here, put this on, we don’t want to carry a frozen body to the wagon, do we?”
He handed her a heating vest and turned to go.
Omelia threw one last gaze at the soldiers. They were busy gambling, seemingly uninterrupted by the whole situation.
“Hey, goggles,” she caught up with the merchant.
“It’s Ehmet. And… you are Omelia, right?” said the man in a calm voice.
“How did you know that? Listen, if you are going to sell me, you better kill me right now, or I’ll do it myself later. I’m no merchandise, and I don’t intend to be one,” Omelia said staring at Ehmet.
She was serious, deadly serious.
“Three boxes of chocolate, two packs of ground coffee, seven packs of cigarettes, a universal kilo of sugar, three cans of special meat concentrate, and a fresh pineapple,” counted Ehmet looking straight forward.
“What?”
“This is your price. A price your assigned Dome City officer sold you to me.”
“Then you cut a bad deal,” Omelia replied, not sure she knew what a pineapple was. “I am no slave, and… I wasn’t his to sell.”
“Of course. You’re free to go, but let me finish,” Ehmet took his goggles off and put them into his pocket. “Dry eyes, can’t go long without them. I witnessed your little performance today at the trial.”
“Impressed?”
“Not in the slightest. What I saw was a brave woman with the patience of a little girl. There was no reason for blaming the village.”
“You know nothing about me or my reasons,” Omelia replied offended.
“I don’t need to know anything. I want to offer you a job,” Ehmet finally stopped. “I’m a merchant, but traveling from one Dome City to another is not a walk in the park if you know what a park is. I need people to help me: carrying stuff, keeping watch during the night, and occasionally shooting wild riders. I won’t pay you because, let’s be honest, money is not quite useful to people like you, but you’ll get good food and shelter when we station at the Dome Cities. Oh, and… you’ll get a chance to meet like-minded people. Trust me, you need friends out here,” he laughed at the last words.
Omelia couldn’t overcome her disbelief. It was just too good to be true. She noticed a large man walking a few meters behind them. There it is, she concluded. The jolly old fella will either sell her at the first wild trading station or use her for his disgusting pleasures.
“No,” she finally said, keeping her head up.
“No?”
Ehmet moved his head slightly.
“No, sorry, goggles. I don’t buy it. Thank you for everything, but as I’ve said, you cut a bad deal,” she replied.
She was trying to figure out where she would go next. There weren’t many options. Worst of all, none of them ended up with Omelia staying alive.
“Alright. Be as it may. But remember, dear Omelia. One who rebels for the sake of freedom will eventually find freedom for himself and others. One who rebels for the sake of rebellion is only putting one more chain around his neck.”
Ehmet waved his hand and the man behind rushed to him.
Omelia was left alone with her thoughts but she couldn’t think about anything other than the man’s final words. What were they meant for? Why were they so important to her?
There was something to it, something that made Omelia’s curiosity beg for more. Omelia rolled her eyes and ran towards the figures almost fading in the darkness of the falling evening.
After a good hour of walking, they finally made it through the snow to a large metal wagon, guarded by people with rifles. As they came closer, Omelia saw two men and two women of different ages, skin color, and complexion. They didn’t look like regular Dome soldiers, more like a gang of outlaws or a peculiar bunch of free nomads.
“Everyone, please, welcome Omelia. She’s our newest member,” Ehmet said, raising his hands and saluting his squad.
Omelia studied new faces, curiously looking at her. They all probably were in her place at some point, bought out of the claws of imminent death, and agreed to the unknown. What was obvious to her was that none of them gave any sign of regretting their decision. Omelia felt slightly relieved.
Ehmet looked up and a tall woman with dark, glossy skin took a step forward.
“Tora, please, give Omelia all the instructions necessary and brief her on our next scrap village visit. It’s rather sufficient that we get as much data about their defense systems as possible. Oh, and… she’s not good with rifles, so I think, she should be on the lookout this time.”
“Wait, defense systems? Data?”
Omelia rounded her eyes, shifting her gaze from Tora to Ehmet. That couldn’t be some unfamiliar tradesman’s lingo. Nothing of what Ehmet said was remotely close to selling goods for profit.
“My dear girl, you don’t really think I’m a regular merchant, getting his kicks in buying people here and there?” Ehmet blew a loud whistle and rotated his finger in the air, signaling the driver to start moving. The wagon slowly took off, and the rest of the people followed. “As I’ve said, one who rebels for the sake of freedom will eventually find it. Let’s say we are a small link in this elaborate freedom-searching chain.”
Ehmet put his strange goggles back on and threw one last glance at the speechless girl.
“Welcome to what one day will be called a resistance, Omelia.”
In a dystopian, totalitarian future, humans live amidst ice and snow. Those who can afford it stay in warm, enormous Dome Cities. Those who can’t — survive in small villages and gather scrap metal left from the War of Machines in exchange for food.
Nick H. Struutinsky © 2024 All Rights Reserved.

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