Kzine Issue 20

by Graeme Hurry et al.

  The only one who knew, lived through that hell and stayed alive, Tanaka-San, had always refused to talk. What Geri did also know for a fact was that the mainland was now a land of murderers, diseased and outlaws. Mom said we’re from Oban, and we escaped to Mull Island at the time of the disaster, living peacefully until… Until one day disaster struck again, this time in the form of marauders from the mainland, that arrived on their fast hovercrafts pillaging and killing everybody. Only infants had been left to die in their own time. I was lucky, like a few other kids—we were away with Tanaka-san, fishing. When we came back at night, we found only ashes, bodies on the ground, and little Ellis’s desperate cries.

  Five years had passed since that day.

  Years that look like decades. We abandoned Tobermory and settled into the woods in the Northern part of the island. Michael forbade all of us to go closer than five miles to the old cities. And I started longing for the sea.

  Missing her mom every time she thought about those events, Geri fell in to an agitated sleep.

  * * *

  It was already evening when Lindsay woke her up, bringing bread and beans she had stolen for her. Geri bowed to her and started eating.

  “I have taken care of little Ellis today,” Lindsay said.

  “Thanks.”

  They remained in silence, while Geri ate her food.

  “Geri, you need to stop confronting Michael like that.”

  “He means nothing to me. I only do what I need to do.”

  “No, what you need is get these crazy ideas out of your head.”

  “They are not crazy,” Geri replied. “I will leave Mull one day. ”

  “I can’t allow you to do it,” she said. “I don’t want you to die, Geri.”

  “No, you don’t want me to live.”

  The girls looked at each other for a long while. Then Lindsay caressed her hair and took her into her arms, hugging her so tight that Geri could only just breathe. She loved Lindsay—blond, beautiful Lindsay that lived in a cabin a few meters away and at 17 was one of the adults. And Michael’s girlfriend.

  “Why is it so important to you?” Lindsay said when they separated. “Is it because of your books? This is why you keep them?”

  “Tanaka-San taught us how to read for a reason.”

  “Tanaka-San is an old fool, he’s seriously ill now, and you should stop listening to him,” Lindsay said. “And you should burn those stupid books too. They belong to a world than doesn’t exist any longer.”

  “A world that’s still haunting us, and always will. We’re made of it, mind, heart, blood,” Geri said. “I want to go, and see what’s there.”

  “There’s nothing there, you fool. There’s the reason why our parents left, and why we are here now.” She just shook his head in despair. “Let’s say you’re somehow able to cross the sea, and reach the mainland. Once you’re there, you won’t be able to come back. You will be contaminated too—whatever it is that has doomed our world.”

  “You’re an idiot, Lindsay. If things are like you people said, we are already contaminated. Us like the rest of the world. We will all die young. I don’t want to go like that.”

  “Well, there are no ferries running any longer. Chances are that nobody lives there anyway. And if they do, they will be people like those bands of marauders that killed your mother when they came to loot Tobermory. They’re going to kill you too, and worse.”

  “What is your alternative, Lindsay? Remaining here until the end of your life?”

  “What’s wrong with that? Mull is beautiful, uncontaminated, safe. We are alone, and nobody can find us hidden as we are. There is enough to eat for everybody. Yes, I do want to stay and live peacefully, with the people I care about.”

  “Michael, you mean?”

  “It’s not just Michael.”

  Geri looked into her eyes, and she took the older girl’s hand, caressing it. Lindsay did not move.

  “Do you love me, Lindsay?”

  “You know I love you. I love Ellis too.”

  “It is not what I meant,” she said, kissing her hand. “Do you love me as a lover does?”

  “Nonsense,” Lindsay replied, withdrawing her hand.

  “Why? Only because I have never slept with a man you believe I’m unable to understand what love is?”

  “You’re still a child,” she said, with an embarrassed smile. “An amazing child. I love you, Geri. And I will name my child after you, if I have a baby girl.”

  “That’s dangerous. She would be like me.” She stood up, giving back the bowl. “I’m going to leave. One day, I will go away, disappearing at dawn in a sea that’s made of fire.”

  “You’re dreaming, Geri.”

  “Yes. And my dreams are your nightmares. Have a good evening, Lindsay.”

  She left her there and went walking up to the hill, to search for wood. She was not going to see Tanaka-san that evening. His health was declining so fast that the old sensei could not work two nights in a row. So those coming hours were going to be for her and for her only.

  After collecting enough branches for her fire, she took out her books and read well past the sunset, in the moonlight. Her fingers flipped through the pages of Hagakure, the old book of the samurai, her favourite. Tanaka-san had taught her to read it in Japanese, and she knew it by heart. Only plunging recklessly towards an irrational death, you will awake from your dreams. And you will make them true.

  She took out her bokken and started practicing alone. And she did it until she could see the moon setting down and the first lights of the day looming into the woods.

  Geri turned toward the sea. There was no longer any silver shade on the water. The sun was so red, a disk of fire on the breaking waves. People fear, lie and make you suffer, but nature never disappoints you, she thought with a serene smile. The sea is alive. The sea is made of burning flames. And one day I will pass through that fire.

  * * *

  After Tanaka-San had missed two appointments, Geri went to visit him to his hut on the other side of the hill, facing the sea. That was their agreement, and her sensei’s rules were the only ones she respected.

  She found him lying on his tatami, shivering from fever, his breath difficult.

  “My time has come, Geri,” he said, without looking at her.

  “I knew it. I will do the deed, Tanaka-San.”

  The old man looked at her in silence.

  “I am a kuinichi-no-jutsu, and no swordsman deserves to die unassisted,” she said. “Please honour me and let me be your kaishakunin, sensei.”

  “You’re too young to take a life,” he said.

  “If I am old enough to love, am I not also ready to give death?”

  He nodded and let her help him dress and prepare his food. She waited whilst he ate and wrote his last haiku; she handed him the tanto, preparing for the rite. She stood at his shoulder, and whilst he plunged the knife into his abdomen, she unsheathed the katana and cut his head off with a precise blow. Ignoring the tears welling up in her eyes, Geri recited the warriors’ prayer, one that an anonymous samurai - of a world that didn’t exist any longer - had written in the XIV century.

  I have no parents: heaven and earth are my parents.

  She remained near her sensei’s body for a while, to allow his spirit to fly away in peace.

  I have no body: endurance is my body.

  She put together all his possessions, which were to follow him into his last journey. She was only to keep his katana, as he had asked her to. It was going to come with her during her own travel, last or otherwise.

  I have no friends: my mind is my friend.

  It was early morning when she finished preparing his grave. Tanaka-San was no Christian, and it was only intended to protect his body from nature’s grip and from the others’ views. That would please his kami.

  I have no enemy: carelessness is my enemy.

  She was tired but satisfied when she finally put him there and covered it with stones. She no long
er had a reason to remain.

  “Sleep well, Tanaka-San.” She bowed in front of her old teacher’s grave. “Tomorrow, when Amaterasu sets the sea on fire, I will be there to assist her.”

  * * *

  Everything was ready, Geri thought. She had allowed herself only a short nap after having taken care of her sensei, but her decision was taken, and the sooner, the better.

  She checked again her inventory. According to her calculations, she could make it to the mainland in a couple of days even by avoiding Oban, which seemed important in terms of security. She was not sure what she was going to find, but avoiding cities was one of the first things Tanaka-san hammered into her head when they had discussed her travel plan. He had also drawn a map for her, and she was going to use it.

  Most of the packing was for little Ellis. He required more food than she did and she could not count on him for hunting or fishing. So she had to make sure to carry extra rations.

  Just a few hours more, and I will be on the sea.

  She was still sharpening the blade of her knife when a noise made her stop. She jumped upright, ready to fight. Then she heard a soft knock on the door, and she realised it was Lindsay. She came in and took Geri into her arms, hugging her.

  “Everybody knows about Tanaka-san. Michael went at noon to search for him and he found his grave.” She kissed Geri on the cheek. “You could have called us for help. You have done it all alone.”

  “I was up to me to take care of him, not you.”

  “He was our teacher too, Geri.”

  “Whatever.”

  Lindsay looked around. She noticed her rucksack, provisions, the knife on the table. His green eyes widened in surprise, for the sudden realisation. “I don’t understand. How can you possibly leave Mull?”

  “I’ll sail to the mainland, South of Oban. From there, I’ll walk.”

  “You don’t have a yacht—and even if you had one, you would not know how to use it.”

  “You’re wrong. Twice. I’ve studied. Those books, you know. And regarding practicing, ” Geri looked at Lindsay with a smile, “you think I was always going to the castle for the view? The yacht Tanaka-San and I built is anchored just down the cliff. And since nobody goes there…”

  “Nobody has ever noticed. Clever,” Lindsay admitted. “But yachting is not children’s play, Geri, not even in summertime. You remember the old stories-”

  “We did it, Tanaka-san and I. We sailed out here together. I know how to fish, I know how to survive on the sea. And once on the mainland, I’ll think about it.” Geri replied. “Maybe I’ll find out that things ain’t as bad as we think they are, or what they were once. And if this is the case, we can all move back there. Start a new life on the mainland, one where we would never again be afraid of the sea.”

  “You’ll only manage to get killed.”

  “Tanaka-San taught us that if you’re ready to live, you must be ready to die. I am.”

  The two girls looked at each other for a long moment, and it was Lindsay that lowered her eyes. Without a word, Geri went back to work, finishing packing her stuff.

  Lindsay kept quiet for a while, looking at her. Then she took Geri’s hand and put it over her face. “Would you remain here—if I were not with Michael?” She said. “If I were able to love you as a lover does?”

  “I’m still a child—that’s what you said.”

  “Answer me.”

  The cry of an owl made them both look outside for a moment. Geri took Lindsay’s head between her hands and kissed her. Then she withdrew. “I’ve dreamt of you as early as I can remember, Lindsay, and those dreams will never leave me. But they won’t turn into reality either. I wouldn’t remain here even if you agreed to be mine.”

  Geri stepped away and walked towards the door. But Lindsay didn’t move. “And Ellis?”

  Geri shook her head. “Ellis is my brother. He’s coming along.”

  “You can’t decide for him.”

  “Haven’t the grown-ups decided for us, always?” She opened the door. “Leave me alone now. I need to rest.”

  Lindsay walked to the door too, but instead of going out she stared at Geri. “I’ve always told you’re a fool, Geri. What do you think you’re going to find out there?”

  “A reason. A way out. Each will be more than I have ever had.”

  “Then leave Ellis with me.”

  “No way,” Geri replied.

  “If you’re serious about what you’ve just said, you should go alone. This is the price of my silence, Geri.” Lindsay’s eyes were cold as stone, almost glaring. “Ellis will hold you back. You’ll only have a chance on your own, and you know it.” She walked out into the garden and turned her head to look at Geri. “Make it through and come back for Ellis. Come back for all of us.”

  * * *

  The moon was still in the sky when Lindsay woke up. She slipped away from the bed she shared with Michael and went outside, shivering for the cold breeze of the morning.

  Her first thought was to go to Geri’s shack, but she already knew she would find it empty. She walked in fear up to the hill, to be able to see the coastline. And she saw them. She saw the yacht, anchored just in front of the beach, slowly swaying in the rising tide. She observed Geri carrying her rucksack, and other provisions, on her shoulders, slender and strong, with little Ellis trotting along. They entered the water. Geri kissed her brother and, after having held him in her arms for a couple of moments, she hoisted herself on the boat.

  The sun was rising from the sea line, and its rays like flames leapt the sides of the yacht, colouring the sail with an orange shade. Lindsay could see her backlit silhouette standing on the deck and Ellis waving his hands, but not their faces. And yet, she was sure they were smiling.

  Geri lifted the anchor, adjusted the draft of her headsail and took the helm, heading towards the deep sea. The yacht wobbled dangerously as it picked up wind, and then straightened up, vanishing against a horizon where crimson dragons danced over fire-like waves.

  THE COMMONWEALTH TURN

  by William Delman

  I stared at my phone, glued to the drone footage. Our daughter Drexler looked ferocious wheeling her paddle, the carbon fiber blades slicing and driving through the Berkeley canal, her kayak incising the surface like a scalpel. The crowd around us was vacillating between shocked whispers and cheers, between looking at their phones and tablets, and squinting at the racers coming up the canal.

  Julie Kwik, the Olympic team captain and her closest competitor, had fallen six lengths back and seemed to be flagging.

  “We are witnessing history people!” One of the commentators yelled. His voice echoed, booming through the canal park PAs and the live web coverage. “Drexler Reese, a novice, barely eighteen, is about to reach the Commonwealth turn faster than anyone in the history of the Boston 4000!” I lowered the volume on my earbuds and looked at my wife.

  “How is she doing this?” I said quietly. My voice evaporated in the crowd’s crescendo.

  “Impressive.” Sarah was smiling at her tablet, her eyes voraciously consuming a half-dozen charts and graphs. The feed of our daughter’s preternatural effort sat in a corner, surrounded by data. That’s when I knew.

  Barely a week before, Sarah and I had stood on the Mass Ave Bridge, huddled like spies, arguing between sips of iced coffee. “It’s my project, Thomas, and I’m telling you there’s almost no risk. DARPA is already getting results with my work in military trials. We can do this.”

  “Are you serious? I know she hasn’t been getting the training times she’d hoped for, but even if she misses the Olympic trials there’s still college, scholarships, and in four years who knows? No matter what happens on Sunday, she’s going to be fine.”

  “Fine? All she’s ever wanted is to be the best, and I, we can give her that. There aren’t even any rules for what I’m talking about. I checked. Besides, she doesn’t even need to know, at least not right away. I can infuse one of her protein shakes, and we can explain late
r.” Sarah’s voice had dropped in volume as a crowd of pedestrians passed behind us.

  “We are not turning our daughter into one of your projects. It isn’t right.” I felt my face turning red, even as I tried to keep my voice down.

  “That’s not fair. This isn’t about me. Just because you’re afraid—”

  I cut her off. “Even if we did pump our daughter full of your nanobot super-serum, or whatever you call it, who says that’s going to make her the best? She’ll be out there with a hundred other women, most of them in their mid-twenties, some of them professionally coached and trained. And don’t forget, Kwik’s in her field this year. The Olympic captain, Sarah. And there’s always the element of chance. No, if we do this, only one thing is guaranteed. Our daughter will never be the same, and if she finds out she’ll never forgive us. You’re also ignoring what might happen to her, and us, legally speaking if we got caught.”

  Sarah dismissed this last concern with a perfunctory wave. “Thom, there are no tests for this stuff yet, or I should say there are no tests I didn’t personally design. There’s no way for the athletic board, or anyone else to find out. I’m telling you, our daughter will be amazing, and not just for this race. She’ll break every record in the book before she’s done, and in twenty years these treatments are going to be everywhere. The human race is evolving, Thom. It’s a new world.”

  I’d had enough. “You know that’s not what this is really about. This is about Drexler, what she wants. That’s why you’re having this argument with me, and not her. She’d never agree to this. Call it what you want, but it’s doping, and you know it.”

  Her face went blank. We stood in silence for a moment, drinking our coffees and watching the river before she turned to me. “Right. I have to run. See you tonight.” Then she pecked me on the cheek before leaving me to watch her disappear into the midday crowd.

  Our evening had passed quietly. I’d made a vegetarian chop suey, heavy on the edamame for Drexler. One night slid into the next day, and the next. I hadn’t brought up the subject again, and neither had Sarah.