Survivors - Jean Lorrah [0]
THE PLANET WAS CALLED New Paris, for the emigrants from Earth who sought refuge in space after the Post-Atomic Horror meant their new world to be a planet of light. They intended to found a society where people could be free, healthy, and happy, where the arts would flourish, where love would grow and hate wither.
Unfortunately, when New Paris was rediscovered by the United Federation of Planets in the Twenty-fourth Century, it was far more like the Paris portrayed by Victor Hugo than that depicted by Toulouse-Lautrec. The dream had died generations since; in the struggle first for survival and then for dominion, the inhabitants of New Paris had brought upon themselves the very fate their ancestors had risked their lives in fragile sub-light ships to escape.
In a city that had once been a model of the union of form and function to produce beauty and comfort, a fifteen-year-old girl huddled in the ruins left by The Last War. There were no more wars on New Paris that could destroy on that scale; today’s ganglords held power by the strength of their bodies, their numbers, their fighting skills, or their control over food and drug supplies.
Ragged and filthy, the girl held in her arms the one comfort in her life, a ginger cat with whom she shared what food she could find or steal, who in turn kept the rats away from her while she slept-in fact allowed her to sleep, knowing the cat would wake her if anyone or anything came near. One time it had even sprung, yowling, on the neck of a man who was trying to kill the girl for the roasted fowl she had pilfered. It gave her the chance to get her knife out, and while the cat kept the attacker occupied, dispatch him. Needless to say, the cat shared generously in the girl’s stolen feast that day.
But the cat, which she had never named because she knew nothing of the Earth custom of keeping pets and giving them names, could not help her now. She had been spotted by one of the rape gangs-and she was only too aware that this time they would not give up their pursuit.
The one and only time they had caught her, she had been barely twelve. That time, they had used her for their own amusement, then laughed at her and let her go. She was too young, too skinny, too hungry.
“We’re throwin’ ya back, gel. Grow up and get some bazooms! Then it’ll be worth it t’feed yer hungry belly, ‘cause there’s allus geezers’ll pay high fer fresh meat-an’ you’ll get nice clothes and lotsa pretties, and plenty o’ joy dust t’keep ya happy.”
That was when the girl learned to fight. There were girls in the gangs; in fact some gangs were made up of women and girls. But, as she had not been born into a gang, they would not have her while she was small and skinny, weak and hungry. The only way to join a gang was to prove your worth-and she had no worth, as the rape gang had just demonstrated. Well, she certainly didn’t want to become valuable in their way! The only alternative was to become strong and skilled, so she could join the warrior women, and never worry about rape gangs again. She turned her shock and fear into anger, her anger into determination.
But determination was one thing; training was another. The girl had no connections with any of the gangs. Her mother had deserted her when she was only five, and the old woman who had taken pity on the starving child was a derelict who had outlived the rest of her own gang. She saw in the child someone to do petty thieving for her, and huddle with her against the cold at night. And perhaps most of all, someone to talk to. She had taught the girl the tricks of a cutpurse, simple lock-picking, and the very important skill of finding the way through the labyrinth of ruined buildings.
She taught the girl to read a little, to be able to decipher the occasional sign still legible in the cellars and tunnels that had survived the holocaust. To the street people of New Paris-the vast majority of the population-avoiding radioactive zones or finding the way through endless miles of identical corridors was the only use for understanding letters. There were