by Jared Ravens
“I see,” said Goetz. “You have come to the same understanding as I.”
Genesee considered this, that Goetz felt the same way about him as he did about humans.
“We must do what we can to guide the creatures we have made,” Goetz continued. “This includes Fairfax. He is a son to me as much as any human. There is a plan at work and he is a part of it. I want Fairfax alive."
"He wants to speak to you," Genesee added. “Personally.
"I know,” Goetz said. “In time."
Atrios followed him down the stairs into the cool blackness of the basement. He pleaded his case, even removing his helmet to reveal his rough, pockmarked face. Genesee did not look back to him as he walked down the stairs.
"You're not protecting anyone" Genesee said. "So what's the point in having you there? You're going to defy my orders and and you're going to defy Goetz's orders."
"I found him three time!"
"And lost him each time."
“I wounded him! He’s on his last leg!”
“I wish I knew that for sure.”
“Send me with her! I can protect Martel.”
Genesee stopped and opened a gate with a key form a thick ring he carried.
“She won't need protection from you. Atrios, I sympathize with you but you've done nothing but stir people up."
Atrios continued talking as they walked down the dark stone hallway. Genesee finally stopped and turned to him.
"I know you're upset Atrios," he said, looking at the man's ghastly face. His complexion resembled gravel under the right lighting. "Your talents are useful but the must be kept dormant in this instance, at this time. But they are useful to me in other ways. Put on your helmet."
Atrios did so. They continued down the hallway before turning left just before it ended.
The boy in the cell looked up at them, fear already entering his eyes. Genesee sat down in the chair next to the bars as Atrios took his place by the wall, his eyes gleaming through the darkness of his helmet. Genesee looked from Atrios to the boy.
"We didn't get very far last time," Genesee said. "I know you know more than you say. I thought we could examine your memory a little more aggressively this time."
He motioned to Atrios who grinned.
"I don't know any more," Dani said, his voice shaking. “Please, I’m tired. I said what I know about Felix.
"His name is Fairfax now. I know you're worried about betraying him. But we'll learn soon enough if there’s any part of him left that still cares about you."
Yelis
The titan’s gift to Theo had been to be send him away. They gave him a gold rock of opportunity, tied it to his ankle and pushed him out of their sight. Just as the managers had been torn every direction by the fiasco, Theo was torn by the punishment. Everyone agreed: The one who brought them Felix must go.
His gift was Yelis, a piece of barren land just north and east of The Hill. Theo would wake every morning hoping the dust and clouds would clear enough that he could see the tip of Mount Sigma. If he did rise and see this sign of civilization he would feel a punch of regret in his stomach. The next thing he would look for was a piece of greenery. A single tree in the yard of his house was sufficient. As far as color went, that’s all there was.
It was land only Spaulding could have thought was beautiful. No house would want to stand in the hot winds and no person would willingly travel the broken roads to see it. Rocky and brownish red, the deserted basin had no character but what people forced on it. What was here was a hole, a vast gapping quarry that dug far into the ground to the point that light could only hit the bottom at the height of the afternoon. Its walls were littered with ladders and poles and scaffolding that led down to its depths where sliver lights twinkled in its darkness like thousands of eyes in the night. Day and night Theo had it running, pulling mounds of dirt and tons of silver and lead to the surface.
Each load was a temporary high. It elated Theo for a moment and then he felt the emptiness of the wilderness around him. He would order them back in, demanding they bring more. The day would build from the calm of morning daylight to the anxiety of nightfall when he would have Maxwell haul him back to his house only to bury himself in a cloud of smoke. He was a rich man in exile, a building magnet forced to dig holes. The wealth was not the type he wanted, and the riches from the mine were only just covering the losses of his businesses back in Sigma. He would end the day exhausted and desiring to return but knowing the impossibility of that at this moment.
“Just stay there a while,” Genesee had told him in a comforting tone that threatened to become angry, should Gensee ever see his retched face again. Theo knew what was happening. He had done what was asked so he couldn’t be punished but he had put himself in the middle of the biggest disaster since the birth of Bautomet. If he stayed anywhere near The Hill he was in danger from any number of managers. Curson had most likely put in a begrudged good word for him to keep him from being executed, though he did not know. He hadn’t been allowed to speak with him since the incident. Thus, he was gifted a punishment, a glittering exile to bid his time until the decided what to do with him.
Genesee had twisted Spaulding’s arm to get this piece of land. The mining manager had not been happy. Spaulding came by twice a week simply to stare at at the mine like a jilted lover salivating over his ex’s naked body. He would glare at Theo as the lesser man that had won the land’s heart. Theo would think:
Take it away, please.
But his infrequent trips into Sigma to visit his family made him question his desire to give the land back. Just as the days in Yelis built to anguished nights, the moment he stepped into the penthouse of the Copper Tower a timer was set. His daughter was against him over his handling of her special friend and his wife was infected with the venomous thoughts of her maker. Petty comments and side eyed looks inevitably built to tense conversations and then, if they were foolish enough to eat in the same room together, an all out shouting match. Celia would scream at him through his own wife’s lips and his daughter would channel her rage at him for not protecting Felix. He would scream at how insolent and unappreciative they had all become and, once his voice had broken, he would walk hunched over to his bedroom and fall on the floor in agony, pining for momentary peace.
And what place was more peaceful than Yelis?
Though he hated the land, it did provide him with the resources to keep his business afloat and his family fed. It gave him the quiet he needed to think about his next move. But it kept him trapped someplace where he could do nothing to move forward.
He laid on the hard wood board, staring at the beams on the ceiling, not ready to move his tortured back and face the day. He was thinking the same thing he thought every day and every night:
Nothing will change until they found Fairfax.
He laid on his board, feeling the sway of the wind and the dust on his face and watching the ropes above him swing back and forth. At the top, directly in his line of sight, was a pulley hauling him up to the highest floor of a rickey wood tower overlooking the mine. A stiff breeze caught the board and pushed it dangerously close to its side. He heard people yelling and the pulley stopped moving and he wondered for a moment if today was the day when he was finally thrown to his death. Then the breeze stopped and the swaying steadied and he smiled cryptically.
He was still smiling when he reached the top, even when they moved his board so four men could lift him up, and he cursed at the pain of the straps pushing at his waist sending jolts through his lower back as he was raised like piece of meat on a platter. He gritted his teeth as the board tilted and his feet moved towards the ground. He yelled for Maxwell, who came scurrying from in back of him.
“Tell them to put me upright GENTLY!”
Maxwell managed to have the men lift him slowly until he was nearly straight up. He breathed heavily, feeling a moment of peace in his spine at the new angle. His viewpoint was now one of wonder, the sight of the enormous hole drive
n into the ground bathed in the warm morning light. People moved like insects, in and out of the darkness, up and down ladders, carrying baskets and crates full of tiny bits of happiness. Theo smiled a little more until he felt Maxwell stop at his side, his heavy breath indicating a question or a problem coming that his assistant was reluctant to allow to leave his lips.
“What is it?” Theo sighed. “Is Spaulding coming again today to tell me how to run a mine?”
“There’s an issue with hole, sir,” Maxwell replied nervously. “There’s been shaking.”
“Shaking?”
“The miners in the deepest parts have said there is swaying that could be a sign that we’ve dug too far…”
“Too far?” Theo said incredulously. “There’s nothing but dirt for eternity down there. There’s no such thing as too far.”
“They’re afraid it could split the ground in such a way…”
Theo stuck his tough out and blew, cutting Maxwell off with the sound. He moved within his straps, feeling the pain inching back into him.
“It’s cause they’re lazy and stupid. You can’t dig too far. They want to cost me money cause they don’t want to work.”
“They’re scared, sir. They hear things.”
“Like what?”
“Scraping. On the other side.”
Theo laid his head back and shut his eyes. The people he had to hire out here were about as bright as they needed to be to use an outhouse in the morning and buy a round of home distilled grava in the evening. Nothing they did in between those times could be allowed to strain their heads.
“The next layer we are digging…” Theo said.
“Yes?”
“Let’s make it easy for them. Let’s blow it up.”
Maxwell tilted his head as if he didn’t understand. Theo spoke louder.
“Let’s blow the blasted layer of rock up, now. No more digging we are going to do it right and blast it. Mix some briman and cindle and get it going.”
“That could…”
“That could blow up some of the silver, I don’t care. I want to show them there’s nothing but rock down there. Otherwise they won’t work and they’ll use the boogieman as an excuse.”
Against all advice he demanded that this be done. He waited in the rickey tower as they prepared the explosive mix below him. His workers layered on layers of light green chemicals into the cracks of the rock floor until it glowed the dimness of the late afternoon light. Theo wanted it done now, not safely, and he wanted it the explosion to be large. Thus when the time came to light the mixture there was a mass exodus of miners from the hole, racing from level to level to escape like rats from a sinking ship.
Theo didn’t wait for them all to leave. The vast hole was deep enough that he felt no one should feel a thing on the surface. So he gave the order and Maxwell yelled down a metal tube for the workers at the base to light it up.
There was a flash of light and a noise like Staley releasing a dozen bolts of lightening into a tunnel. Then a mass of black smoke shot up with a rush of fire behind it. But when the fire disappeared the smoke continued to rumble up and over the people running in its wake. The blackness floated up to the top of the tower like a wall closing in on its inhabitants and Theo looked to each side for an escape. Maxwell reached out with a rag and covered his boss’ mouth but it the smoke still made its way to his lung, causing him to cough for several minutes.
As it cleared Theo became aware of a rumble. Through teared eyes he looked through the smoke to see the source: A deep, bellowing moaning followed by a shadow moving in the bottom. Screams rose from people in the tower. Out of the darkness of the mine came a body. It crawled slowly, making its way up each landing of the open mine. It wore a cloak, black with dirt and dust from the hole it had grown out of, and it coughed loudly, spitting black debris with each hard breath.
When it reached the surface it pulled itself up to a height of four stories, as tall as the wood tower, and shook the cloak, letting large chunks of dirt fall off of it while it continued to cough. It looked up finally, a long, pale grey face peering out of a dirty hood. It breathed in a thick gust of air and coughed a final breath of blackness that overtook everyone in the tower.
Theo doubled over, chocking on the dust. He lifted his head to see the being remove its hood. Thick, dirty, yellow hair flowed wildly from the giant man’s pale, boney head.
“Waring…” Theo said weakly, recovering slowly. “I presume we disturbed you.”
“Ohhhh….” Waring replied, gripping the two sides of the tower with thing fingers, causing it to shake. “I disturbed you. I’ve been digging upwards. I needed…” he looked up at the light in the sky, disturbed by it. “…air.”
“I am so sorry,” Maxwell interjected. “We meant no offense…”
“Questions…” Waring continued, looking at Maxwell. His voice was slow and deliberate and low. “…Answers. I put my ear to the ceiling and I heard your voice. I had an inclination… to come up.”
His very presence was dark and heavy. There was an immense sense of gravity in his face as if he was pulling everything towards him him while scrambled to pull away. The dark green eyes looked inquisitively at Theo.
“That’s how he hurt you,” he said, looking at the board.
“Oh… Just a bit of a bad accident.”
“So Fairfax tried to kill you too,” he replied, his mouth tensing at the words. Theo looked to Maxwell, understanding what this was about.
“Sir… Waring,” Theo replied. “Yes, yes he did. With the ruble that fell down from the ceiling. He tried to kill us all, just as he did your friend.”
“Ohhh,” Waring said, closing his eyes momentarily. “They let him free! And Batomet, he sits down with me quietly, peacefully himself and nothing else.”
“Batomet…” Theo repeated kindly, trying to envision loving that beast at all.
“Bodiless, senseless. I cannot put him back together.”
“Oh,” said Maxwell. “He’s just a spirit now.”
“Less than that, less every day.”
Theo tried to unlatch himself from his upright board and, failing to do so, flailed his hands around until several men including Maxwell came to his assistance.
“So, Waring. You have business here? You heard my voice and you know my experience in these matters.”
“Many know your experience in these matters,” he replied cryptically.
“I see,” Theo said, finally free of his straps. He staggered off the board, walking stiffly but forcing his back to move slightly. “I can make my way down and perhaps we can talk in private.”
Waring did not respond to this offer, instead walking to the stairway where Theo made his way down, flight after flight. Waring would shrink with each flight so his large head would stay even with Theo’s body as he reached progressively lower levels.
“We need to take care of it, before it strikes again.”
“I know,” Theo replied.
“No, we need to take care of it before something happens.” He repeated, emphasizing the words.
“I hear you.”
“No, we do.”
Theo stopped on a landing, wiggling his aching back and looking into the face that was as large as his body. Which ‘we’ was he talking about? Waring had no social skills to speak of, a result of spending eternity in hole with nothing but spirits to converse with.
“We have help?” Theo asked.
“He needs to be gone, or changed.” Waring’s eyes got big with the word ‘changed’. “I have my hopes on either.”
“I do too,” Theo said, walking again. “Again with this ‘we’ business…”
“There needs to be an army. Genesee disbanded the one that failed him. I, myself, do not lead like that.”
“Oh, but I do!” Theo lied. “I have and I can lead an army.”
“Well,” Waring said, with a flat tone. “That is all good. It is good you are so willing. But this task, you would not be… associated wi
th me.”
“Of course.”
“For the sake of… appearances.”
Theo nodded, happy to have Waring disappear at any time. He was on the ground and Waring was now his height.
“Waring,” he said, bowing slightly, partly to stretch his back, “no one wants this more than me. If you wish it, I will be your general. I will cause the death of this blight of a man.”
“Death. There is no death, I know this. But he will be changed, in one way or another.”
“However you wish to phrase it. But I will need resources.”
“If you are quiet about the means, then I can provide,” Waring said, his face suddenly lighting up.
“I am quiet about anything a patron needs me to be quiet about.”
Waring turned and disappeared over the cliff, moving quickly down into the depths of the mine. Maxwell reached the bottom of the stairs and walked up behind Theo.
“He wants us to go after Fairfax because he killed his friend,” Theo said out of the side of his mouth. “He’s giving us money to raise troops.”
Behind Maxwell’s eyes the possibilities swirled.
“Sir,” he replied. “Be careful. If he’s using you for something…”
“I have to get out of here, Maxwell. And what better reason to do it?”
“I understand, sir,” Maxwell replied. “These things… They’re never as simple as we think they are.”
“You think I, of all people don’t know that?” Theo replied, incredulously, turning to him. “I know there’s always strings but what else do people like us have? To be a handbag for a much larger person is the best most can hope for. But want to give me militia to protect me? Think about that. Sometimes they fuck up in our favor.”
When Waring returned he was in full form, many stories high. He leaned onto the cliff, his arms full of silver and black, and dumped his load in front of Theo. The rumble was so large it cause the ground to shake. Theo could barely suppress his smile. He looked to Maxwell.