Travelers

by Alia Hess

  “Owl! Owl Melonvine!”

  She whirled around, her long brown braid flopping over one shoulder.

  “Owl! This is God talking. You have been very naughty. I am going to zap you with lightning!”

  It took her a moment to realize the voice came from the trees above and another moment to decide who it must be.

  “God is a bald Russian with orange shoes?”

  “I have hair now.”

  A large black drone materialized out of a tree and hovered in front of her. A shiny screen glistened on the front, and grooves and seams cut trails through the matte black metal. It made no noise, other than the nasally accent coming through unseen speakers.

  “Check it out.” The screen on the drone blinked on, displaying Sasha, seated in a high-backed chair, computer monitors around him on all sides. Black, messy locks of hair curled about his head. He grinned at her.

  “Wow. It’s so weird to be looking back at you. This drone must be new.”

  “Yeah, totally new. We have so many cool things now! This is stealth drone. I’m like spy. And assassin!”

  “Wait—what?” Owl looked down the path on either side. It was only a matter of time before someone came this direction. “Hang on. Can you follow me into these trees? I don’t want someone to spot us. If people see me talking to a drone they’ll probably think I’m the devil.”

  “Yeah, sure.” The drone turned and floated carefully between the trees. Owl hopped over the river bank and slipped past trees. The drone clicked, and spider-like legs unfolded from the bottom, settling in the grass. Owl sat on a rock.

  “Okay, I am here for couple reasons. But first, Owl, you look beautiful, baby. It’s nice to see you again. I like this dress better than one you wore yesterday. Is better color.”

  “Yesterday? Have you been watching me?”

  “I watch everybody! Is my job now. See, I am taking photos of all of America with this drone. We are making big map on computer, with names and roads and everything. It will help people get around better. I am photographing Nis and you and Trav are on my list.”

  “What list?” She set her basket on the grass and peered into the screen.

  Sasha pursed his lips. “My apology list. It’s very long. I decide to be better person.” He leaned closer to the camera, his blue eye taking up most of the screen. He pointed to a scar on his brow. “You see this? This is from Trav. Everytime I see it, it’s reminder for me to not be asshole. I have many people to apologize to. I wrote them all down.”

  She nodded. “Good for you, Sasha. I’m glad to hear it. I know why you want to apologize to Trav, but why to me?”

  “Because I showed you that video and make you puke.”

  Images of body parts and charred houses entered her mind and she shook her head. “You don’t need to apologize to me for that.”

  “Yes! I do! I am sorry I make you puke, and I have new video to show you.”

  “Er, I’m not sure I want to see—”

  “No, no. You like this one. But! First I have favor to ask you.”

  “What is it?”

  Sasha’s face scrunched with irritation. “I have big problem talking to ladies here. They don’t like me. I need something sexy to say. I try to find right words, but nothing sounds good. You give me sexy American phrase for ladies. Can you do this?”

  She laughed.

  “You think is funny, but it’s true! I need help.”

  Sasha was cute, but it wasn’t surprising that he scared all the women away when he opened his mouth. “Okay, I know what to do. Pretend I’m a woman you like.”

  “You are woman. And I like.” Sasha wriggled his eyebrows. “Okay, go ahead—Oh. Wait. Trav is not there, right? He would find me and beat me into bloody mess.”

  “No, he’s not here.” She chuckled. “Okay, so say this to me, ‘I write beautiful poetry, but I can only tell you in my language.’”

  “Beautiful poetry?”

  “Right. Then say something in Russian—anything. But make it sound sexy. Say it like you want to make love to me.”

  Sasha cocked an eyebrow. “I say everything to lady like I want to make love to her. Maybe that is problem. But I try it.” He cleared his throat. “Hello, baby. I write beautiful poetry, but I can only tell you in my language. You want to hear? Oo menya bolit golova i ya golodnyy.”

  “See? That was sexy. What did you say?”

  “I have headache and I’m hungry.”

  Owl laughed again. “Perfect. Just do that. Say anything, but say it sexy.”

  Sasha grinned. “This is great. Thank you. I will try this out tonight. …After I take shower.” He cracked his knuckles and shifted in his seat. “Okay, now, good news for you. You going to love this. You know Winter? Guy that made new territory for slavers in the North?”

  “Yeah…”

  “I shot him in the head.”

  “What?” Owl put a hand over her mouth. “He’s dead?”

  “Yes—very dead. It was not really planned. Dr. Orlov is crazy if he think he can give me drones with guns and I’m not going to shoot them. See, this facility is much larger now. And many more people. Dr. Krupin have almost perfected the vaccine. There is much less side-effects for people. And only fifteen percent of people die from vaccine instead of twenty-five percent. We are building town on top. A new town for Russian immigrants. It’s called Priyut. We have much better electronics and drones, computers… everything. I am boss of technical stuff now.”

  She put a hand on her chin, waiting for Sasha to get to the point.

  He twirled around in his chair and continued. “Anyway, I am using this stealthy drone to fly over Winter’s territory and look at everything and take pictures. The place is really sucks. Lots of slaves—womens and kids. Scary Soots. Trashdogs. People in cages. Horrible. Then I see Winter. Mean-looking bastard. He is standing on stage, talking to people. Maybe telling important speech. I don’t know. And then I think, ‘I have guns! I could kill this guy right now!’ No one can see drone because is invisible, right? So I fly little closer and push button to make guns come out. Then I aim at his head, right as he is saying something important, maybe, yeah? And then, bam! I shoot the gun and he falled off the stage.”

  Winter’s dead. The head of the army cut off—just like that. And Sasha did it? Sasha?

  He leaned back in his chair and cackled with glee. “Oh, it was best thing ever. I have video recorded. You want to see now?”

  “Yeah, show me the video.” The screen went blank for a moment, then displayed an aerial view of a large stage, crowds of mostly Islanders standing around. A formidable Mainlander stood on the stage, large cages behind him. Several people knelt near his feet with their heads hanging down. Winter addressed the crowd. The speakers on the drone emitted a click, then a bright green circle appeared on the screen. It moved around, then centered on Winter’s head. The barking report of gunshots blasted from the speakers and blood spurted from Winter’s head. He fell off the stage into the crowd. People screamed and roared and chaos ensued. They shot each other, shoved each other, and looked to the sky. Someone shot one of the men tied up on the stage. The other stood up and ran away. The video disappeared, and Sasha’s grinning face filled the screen once more.

  Owl sat back, stunned.

  “Pretty cool, huh? But Dr. Orlov tell me I can’t use guns anymore. Says it is interrupting order of nature in America or something like that. But I think I did America big favor. You’re happy he’s dead, right?”

  “Yes. Definitely! I still can’t believe you did that, though. So, are all of the slavers still there? Or did the whole place fall apart after you killed Winter?”

  “Eh, I don’t know. I think maybe you pull one weed and two more grows instead. There is no new boss man, but maybe someone else will come to replace. And maybe I can’t shoot him next time. But who knows? It could be different in month or two. I will keep watching. If I see something new, I can let you know.”

  “That would be great. Even t
hough I’m not on the Mainland, I worry about what happens there. …Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course, baby. What’s up?” Sasha leaned into the screen.

  “Is Dr. Krupin really going to release the virus on the rest of the world and cause another Collapse? Or were you making that up?”

  “I was not making it up. I really hacked his notes and emails and read it. It was him and Dr. Kuznetsov’s plan. But Dr. Kuznetsov died after taking vaccine. Now, I think Dr. Orlov don’t like that idea very much. He is trying to talk Dr. Krupin out of it. But it’s still possibility. Why? You worried?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  Sasha shrugged. “Doesn’t affect me. Maybe I should care more, but rest of the world sucks. I would never make plan like that—to kill all those people—but if it happens, it happens.”

  “But you could stop it.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is if Dr. Krupin don’t give Russia vaccine—which he won’t—they will send new team of scientist here to make one. And maybe other countries will too. If they have resistance, who knows what they could do to America in future. That would affect me. I don’t want native people of America slaughtered like in ancient history.”

  “But Dr. Krupin is going to slaughter the rest of the world instead.”

  “I’m sorry, baby, but I don’t have time for philosophical conversation right now. We would just go round and round in circles anyway.” Sasha twirled in his chair. “Can you get Trav now? Don’t really want to talk to him because, no offense, but your consort is scary. But I need to apologize for making him mad. Need to cross him off my list.”

  Owl gave him a small smile. “Sure. He should be in our house. I’ll go get him.”

  “Okay. I’ll just hang out until you come back.” He laughed. The drone floated into the air, spidery legs retracting back into the body, then became invisible, dissipating like smoke. The trees behind the drone wavered, like objects seen through ripples of heat.

  Owl headed through the trees, replaying Sasha’s video in her mind. The doctors causing another Collapse was horrifying, but in a distant, surreal sort of way. She didn’t know what the rest of the world was like, and she certainly didn’t want some other country to invade America. Maybe Sasha was right—mulling over it too much would be dizzying and pointless.

  And his good news was about something that did affect her. Winter was dead. It was true that someone equally as horrible might pop up in his place, but it was a start. Phantom bullets from the sky would probably discourage people from amassing again soon.

  She hopped over the river and ran to the house. Trav stood in the kitchen, preparing fish. He looked up. “I was starting to worry that something happened to you. Where’ve you been?”

  “I was talking to Sasha. You remember Sasha? He has an apology for you and there’s a video you have got to see.”

  18 ~ Tea and Cookies ~

  July 02, 154—I think I’m pregnant! I’m late, and lately, I’ve been feeling really nauseous. Certain smells make me feel sick and thinking about eating certain foods too. Trav will be so excited since we’ve been trying for a while now. I’m excited too, but I want to be for certain that I really am before I say anything to him.

  July 02 (cont.)—I went to the doctor this afternoon, while Trav was out fishing. That old woman creeps me out, but I wanted to know for sure if I was pregnant or not. She asked me some questions, felt my forehead, and poked and prodded me a little bit and then confirmed that I am. I’m so excited! Seasalt just found out she’s pregnant also, so our babies will be same-aged cousins just like Trav and Quietbird, which is pretty cool. Now I just need to decide how to tell Trav.

  Owl stepped outside, formulating her announcement in her mind. She pressed her face into a shimmery purple Stargazer blossom and inhaled. The velvety, light scent filled her with a sweet calm. Above the flowers, the whale mural on the wall was cheerful and bright. They painted it last. Trav had helped his mother paint it when he was a child, and he insisted on using the same colorful palette. Unfortunately, bright pink and teal were harder pigments to obtain and they had to travel to Pearlolla to purchase them. Maybe one day they would paint a second generation whale next to the first, with their own child.

  Their fawn and black chickens wandered the yard, pecking at insects and chasing each other around. They followed Owl as she rounded the side of the house. Trav knelt in the garden, his cloak crumpled on the ground near a pile of weeds. His chin-length blond locks hung about his face as he ripped weeds from the furrows.

  Owl stepped past rows overflowing with large melon leaves, lacy carrot greens, and tiny pink and purple pea flowers. She squatted by a line of lettuce heads, inspecting the undersides for slugs.

  Trav looked up, wiping his sweaty, dirt-smeared face. “What’s the matter, farm girl? You think I can’t do this on my own?”

  She smiled and picked a small black slug from a lettuce leaf and tossed it away. “Actually, I was wondering if there was something else you could do for me…”

  Trav’s shoulders sagged a little, but he gave her his best smile. “What do you need?”

  “You’re pretty good at making things out of wood, right?”

  “Uh, not really. Depends on what it is.”

  “Furniture?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. But Mothwing is much better than I am.”

  “I want you to make something.”

  He chuckled. “It’s gonna look ugly, but… what did you have in mind?”

  Owl plucked a weed from the dirt. “A cradle.”

  He blinked. “A cradle.” A grin overtook his face. “Are you—”

  “Yes.”

  Trav raised his eyebrows and put a hand over his mouth. He walked to Owl, still squatting next to the lettuce.

  “I’m going to be a father?”

  “That’s right.” Owl smiled as the reality sunk into Trav’s face. His hug was more of a collapse than a squeeze as he threw his arms around her and knocked her off balance. She sat back in the dirt, laughing.

  He stroked her hair and kissed her temple as they lay in the lettuce, then he put a hand on her stomach. “I’m excited. Are you excited?”

  “Yes. I thought we could tell everyone tomorrow night at Quietbird’s get-together.” Trav nodded and she smirked. “Seasalt is pregnant too. Our babies will be born around the same time.”

  “Oh, man. Look out world.” Trav laughed. He pushed himself up and offered Owl a hand. She stood, and Trav brushed the dirt from her arms.

  “I think the garden can wait.” He looked at the pile of weeds on the ground. “I have a cradle to build.”

  The next morning, Owl walked along the path back home, swinging her empty egg basket with a contented smile. The brightly-colored whale mural greeted her cheerfully. One of their chickens, a fawn hen named Bubble, stood in front of the door next to a cloth-covered basket.

  Owl stopped. There didn’t appear to be anyone around. She picked it up and went inside. After hanging up the egg basket, she set the other on the counter in the kitchen.

  “Trav?”

  He was probably down at the beach. Owl frowned at the basket, then untied the string holding the cloth in place. Inside the basket were two roughly-woven drawstring bags. In one was cookies, the other, tea.

  “Huh.” A strong odor emanated from the tea, almost like wet wood. She pulled out a cookie; they looked pretty good, golden brown and filled with some type of dried fruit. Owl ate one as she leaned against the counter.

  I wonder who left this. And why? One of our neighbors? Trav did help Whitespring fix his roof the other day. That must be it.

  She started a fire in the stove and set a water kettle on to boil.

  Everyone has been so nice to us. Always offering to help—and people stop and talk to me around town. But sometimes I still have a hard time deciding whether someone is genuine or not.

  She took down two tea cups from a shelf sculpted into the kitchen wall and deposited a generous amount of the
tea leaves into a brewing vessel. When the water was hot, she poured it over.

  Her morning sickness hadn’t kicked in yet today and she was grateful. She pulled out another cookie, thinking about their announcement at Quietbird’s tonight.

  Owl poured tea into the cups as the front door opened.

  “Hey, darling.” She swallowed a mouthful of cookie.

  “Hey.” Trav came into view, setting his fishing pole against the wall. “Man, the wind blowing off the water this morning is really cold. I just want to crawl back into bed and get warm.”

  “You want some tea?”

  He turned. His hair hung in windblown locks, bare chest glistening with ocean spray.

  “Yeah, sure. What’s that?” He pointed to the basket on the counter.

  “I don’t know. Some kind of goodie package. It was sitting on the step when I got back from the market. There’s tea and cookies inside.”

  “That’s weird.” Trav walked into the kitchen. “I wonder who left it.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know. I thought maybe Whitespring. These cookies are good, though. The tea smells weird.” Owl picked up one of the teacups and inhaled the steam wafting from the top.

  Trav stared at the cup, then slapped it out of her hand. It shattered on the floor, sending tea everywhere.

  Owl stared at him in shock. “What the hell was that?”

  “Did you drink that?” Trav gripped her shoulders. “Did you?”

  “No! Why? What’s the matter?”

  Trav swiped the brewing vessel into the basin, then took the bag of tea and dumped it in the garbage. When he turned around, there was so much pain and hatred in his face that Owl took a step back.

  His mouth twitched. “That’s ringhorn tea. There’s only one reason people drink it. It kills their unborn child.”