Weight of Ashes

by Rook Winters

  CHAPTER 8: ELLE

  Elle had opted out of a repeat trip to check snares with Court, so she had some time to herself. She sat on her bunk staring at the suit. It looked so out of place sitting in a log cabin in the middle of the wilderness. The village felt like a safe place, but how safe was she? She didn’t know the story behind the suit. There could be a tracking device in it. Would someone from the center show up looking for it? For her?

  Who could she trust if that happened? She didn’t know these people. Was Marsh actually a friend of Dr. Donovan? Was he the rabbit? Those first few hours were a blur. She didn’t trust her own memories of them. Was Marsh telling her what she wanted to hear? Telling her that this place was safe and that, yes, of course this is where Dr. Donovan was bringing her all along? But he knew Dr. Donovan’s name was Clint. Or had she given that information away? Or did the Qyntarak say it and Court heard and told Marsh?

  Court seemed genuinely naive; he was capable in his familiar environment but ignorant of the wider world.

  She’d know if they weren’t being truthful with her, wouldn’t she? Wouldn’t she see something in their faces? The village didn’t feel like a place built on deceit but wasn’t that the way of dishonest people? You never knew for sure.

  “Dr. Donovan, why?” she whispered, almost sighing the words.

  Unbidden, her mind replayed the sight of his missing chest. She pressed her palms into her eyes. “Stop stop stop.”

  It didn’t stop. She kept seeing it over and over.

  Air wouldn’t come into her lungs. She tried to inhale and gasped desperately with no relief. It felt like she was drowning.

  Elle flung herself out the door into the fresh air and braced herself against the cabin wall. Her heart felt like it was coming through her ribs with each beat.

  L37, control your breathing.

  She focused on the memory of Master Zheng.

  Control my breathing, right.

  She forced a long exhale then a ragged inhale.

  Again.

  Again.

  Eventually, her heart rate slowed. She put her palms on her sides, arms akimbo, and walked a small circle in front of the cabin.

  I have to stop staring at that suit, it’s making me crazy.

  She went to the white cabin where she found Vaidehi organizing a cabinet.

  “Afternoon, Elle.”

  “Hi. I was wondering, do you have a waterproof container that I can have? A pouch or something would be great. I want to wrap up my suit, to be safe. I don’t know how sensitive it is and I hate to keep it just laying out.”

  Vaidehi pulled on her lower lip as she thought. “Well, I suppose you don’t need anything that’s medical grade sterile, so…” She flipped up the lid of a blue container and pulled out a semi-transparent bag. “This could work. Had a splash pad in it.”

  “What’s a splash pad?”

  “For wrapping injuries. Technically, it’s a wound-sealing antiseptic mesh wrap with embedded growth accelerant. Way easier than stitching up skin and less likely to get infected, which is pretty important out here since antibiotics are hard to come by. Used this one to patch up Evangeline. Sliced her leg open trying to get a chicken back into its pen. Her foot slipped off a grip and tore a gash down most of her thigh. Would leave a nasty scar without the growth accelerant. Her kid let the chicken out to play, if you can believe that. Anyway, not sure why we call them splash pads, but that’s what everyone called them back in med school.”

  “You went to medical school? You’re not from here?”

  “Blazes, no. Went to John Hopkins. Got stationed up here as an itinerant medic for some of the state facilities.”

  “So, why are you here then? This isn’t a state facility.”

  “Love.”

  “What?”

  “Met a guy while I was traveling. He thought I should leave my job and live the simple life. You know, pick up work for cash or barter. Deliver babies, set bones, that kind of stuff. Anyway, that worked for a while then the weaselly bastard cheated on me. A friend introduced me to Moriya who introduced me to Marsh who invited me here and been living the free life ever since.”

  “Wait, who’s Moriya? Someone in the village?”

  “No, an old friend of Marsh’s. More than a friend, if you want my opinion, but Marsh’ll never admit to anything. Lives down in the Chignecto settlement. Kind of a kooky old bat but she’s got connections. Here, take this tape. If you put your suit in and squeeze out the air, you can seal it with the tape and that’ll keep the water and dirt out.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Hey, no worries. Listen, I know it can be hard adjusting to life here. Thought about leaving a bunch of times myself the first couple of years, trust me. But these are good folks.”

  “It’s definitely different here.”

  “That it is. If you ever want to just sit and talk it out, let me know. We can get into my stash of corn whiskey. It’ll burn your insides but it does the trick now and then.”

  “I’ve never had whiskey before. We weren’t allowed to have alcohol. Dr. Donovan and the others said there was too much risk that it would interfere with the study results.”

  “Study results? And I thought I had stories to tell. Well, when you’re ready, I can introduce you to your first ever whiskey then. Good news is that anything you drink in the future will almost certainly be an improvement.”

  Elle gave her a genuine smile. Vaidehi seemed decent, like she was someone Elle might consider opening up to.

  “Thank you again for the bag and the tape.”

  After the hospital, Elle borrowed a shovel from the village gardens and went back to her cabin. By rolling up the suit and stuffing it into the helmet’s cavity, she was able to squeeze everything into the bag and seal it shut with the tape.

  Elle didn’t know how long she would leave it hidden, only that she needed it away from herself and there was no one to trust with it. She carried the suit and shovel across the clearing into the woods, following a trail leading away from the village until she found a pile of rocks as big as a cabin.

  According to Court, the pile was there long before the village, from a farmer clearing rocks from his fields hundreds of years earlier. It was a tradition in the village to have the teenagers carry rocks from the land they farmed now to the old rock pile. Court said it was to build strength and endurance. Elle suspected it was a way to keep teenagers busy and tired so they stayed out of trouble. She also suspected that Court was too naive to have figured that out.

  She cleared away some rocks from the edge and began digging. It was hard work, harder than it looked in the old movies she’d watched with Dr. Donovan. Her hands burned, and she was soaked with sweat by the time she had a big enough hole. She lined it with thin, broad rocks to create a crude floor and walls before she laid the suit in.

  A blister tore open on her hand while filling in the hole, which was now a bulge of dirt rising above the ground. She covered the small mound with rocks and stepped back to inspect her work. Other than footprints in the dirt, there was no evidence.

  Good.

  The task had been more work than she’d expected but she felt refreshed as she returned to the village, like a thousand pounds had been lifted from her shoulders. The open sore from the burst blister stung as she walked. She thought again of Master Zheng and observed the pain instead of feeling it. Tomorrow, she’d go see Vaidehi about it. For now, she would observe.

  CHAPTER 9: MARSH

  Marsh tapped a copper coin on the bar top to get the bartender’s attention. Nine other patrons sat scattered throughout The Squid and Whale. A quartet of men with sinewy arms played a game with little wooden tiles at a table crowded with empty glasses. There was a man and woman, her not much older than Walker and him much older, pawing at each other in a corner. Two men that Walker guessed to be late twenties chewed wordlessly on sandwiches. And one man sat slumped over with his face on the weathered bar, a half full bottle of something yellow an inch fr
om his unmoving fingers.

  The bartender, a gaunt woman who looked ancient to Walker but moved behind the bar with ease, eyed the coin first and then its owner.

  “We don’t serve kids in here. I ain’t lookin’ for trouble from no one. The religious nuts’ll ruin me if I do.”

  Marsh waved his thumb at the other customers. “They don’t care about the rest of the folks you’re serving?”

  “People can do whatever they like when you’re grown but corruptin’ the youth gets em into a lather.”

  “Then we can be on our way. I came in looking for a friend but I see he’s not to be found here.”

  The bartender eyed the copper coin again. “Who’s that you’re looking for?”

  “A man named Polk.”

  The woman’s laugh sounded like someone had dropped a handful of stones on the bar. “You must be confused. Polk ain’t got friends.”

  “I suppose that’s true. I have business with him.”

  She eyed Marsh again and waggled her finger. “Yes. You’ve been here before. Your beard’s longer and grayer, I almost didn’t recognize you.”

  “Is he around?”

  “Leave that copper and I’ll pour you a drink while I send for him.”

  “For a copper, I’ll want a proper beer and a cup of clean water.”

  The bartender clucked but pulled out two glass mugs, both heavily scratched. She pumped a plunger on a metal canister and used a hose to fill one mug with amber beer until the foam threatened to spill over the lip. The other she filled with water from a jug.

  “Give me a minute. My son will go fetch Polk.”

  She slipped out through a frayed curtain tacked over a doorway. When she was out of sight, Marsh reached over the bar and topped up his mug with the hose.

  “A whole copper coin and she doesn’t bother to pour a full pint. Unbelievable.” He pushed the water in front of Walker. “Drink. Good water’s hard to find here.”

  The bartender was back in seconds. “My boy’s off to find him.”

  Walker had finished the water and Marsh’s mug was nearing empty when the slap of the screen door slamming shut behind them grabbed the attention of all but the man sleeping on the bar.

  A stout man entered; he was oddly proportioned, like his legs were too long for the rest of his body. The whites of his eyes seemed to glow. Those eyes troubled Walker. They were small and radiated disdain.

  “I told you to water down his hooch.” He tilted his head toward to the unconscious bar guest.

  “I did but he can tell. I watered it down more as he drank but he doesn’t stop. I been pouring a long time, and I ain’t never seen anyone get sober by being tricked.”

  The man snarled at the bartender and she moved away to check on her other guests.

  He turned to Marsh. “I hear you have business to discuss.”

  “I do. Something requiring a more private venue.”

  Polk nodded to the curtain behind the bar and led them through.

  “I don’t forget faces. You’re from one of the little villages. March, I think.”

  “Close. Marsh.”

  “How’s that water purifier working for you?”

  “Humming along nicely. Three years and counting.”

  “Good, good. Always happy to see a satisfied customer. What can I find for you this time?”

  “Not looking to acquire anything. A friend gave me a piece of tech that I can’t make work.”

  “Why not ask them for help then?”

  “Because he died.”

  “He died or you killed him?”

  “I didn’t kill him. He was a friend.”

  “In my line of work, those aren’t mutually exclusive.” Polk laughed at himself. “I suppose that’s why folks like you live far away from us.”

  Marsh smiled at the comment but Walker could tell it was forced.

  “So where is this tech?”

  The bone fragments clinked as Marsh pulled the necklace out from under his shirt. “Embedded in a piece of bone.”

  Polk stuttered a little when he replied, “A piece of bone?”

  “Yes, we think it might be a data chip of some sort but we don’t know how to access it. Is there a problem?”

  “No problem. Not exactly a water purifier this time though, is it?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “And you have payment? Real coin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s go take a look then. Follow me.”

  Through an old door, they descended stairs that groaned with each step and Walker feared one would give way before he made it to the bottom. In a dark corner, Polk picked up a metal rod with curved ends. Walker sucked in a breath and he felt his chest tighten as fight-or-flight instincts kicked in. He bent his knees, memories of lessons with Court buzzing through his mind. But Polk turned his back to them and slid the rod between the dusty glass jugs on a shelf of a wooden cabinet. With a twist of his wrist, something clicked and Polk pulled on the rod, leaning back to use his weight for assistance. Sounds of wood scraping on stone accompanied the shifting of the shelf.

  “Old moonshine room. The main reason I bought the tavern in the first place.”

  “Fascinating,” Marsh said.

  Walker followed the older men into the room, which seemed to be made entirely of metal and glass like the tablets used by the village council members.

  Marsh removed his wire necklace and gave it to Polk. “This one.” He tapped the chunk of bone from Clint Donovan’s leg. Polk winced as he took it and placed the fragment between a pair of metal panels.

  An image appeared on a wall-mounted tablet. Polk manipulated the image, stretching and sliding while he examined the magnified 3D image.

  “Looks like an Aldebaran data vault to me.”

  “Aldebaran…” Marsh repeated.

  “Yeah, biggest company there is for hybrid human-Qyntarak tech. Was your friend associating with Qyntarak?”

  “It seems likely.”

  “A collaborator?”

  Marsh shifted his weight and adjusted his grip on his walking stick. His body language seemed to answer Polk’s inquiry.

  “Let me try pinging it.”

  “What’s that mean?” Walker asked.

  “Basic challenge-response type protocol signals. We’ll see if it responds to any of the standard stuff. If I’m right and it’s Aldebaran, we should get something back.”

  While they waited on Polk, Walker studied the room. It was not, in fact, all metal and glass even though that was the dominant impression. Their chairs were white leather. In addition to metal and glass, Walker saw wood and the material that villagers called plastic but that Marsh insisted was called restin—an organic polymer, whatever that was.

  “I’ve got something,” Polk said.

  CHAPTER 10: ELLE

  “Just line up the two sights and squeeze the button.” Court let go of the mag gun and Elle held it in front of her eye. She drew in a slow breath and squeezed.

  The gun whirred and snapped. The projectile, a wooden arrow not much longer than her index finger, shattered against a slab of shale behind the apple she was aiming for. Dr. Donovan had let her train with a lot of weapons, high and low tech, but she’d never shot something like this.

  “A good first try,” Court said.

  Give me an hour and I’ll outshoot you with your own weapon, she thought.

  Aloud, she said, “Let me try again.”

  She pressed another arrow through the gun’s reloading slot. Wooden arrows were a clever choice given how easily villagers could make new ammo in the forest.

  “It uses magnets to launch the arrow. Marsh designed it himself.”

  “Magnets? But wood isn’t magnetic.”

  “Yeah, I’m not good with all the engineering and inventing stuff. Marsh can explain it when he’s back.”

  She aimed and fired again. The arrow brushed the left side of the target and it wobbled on the tree stump.

  “Nice shot.”


  “Again.”

  Elle reloaded and fired, clipping the apple’s upper right curve. Her next shot struck a little left of center, sending the apple flying off the stump. She fired once more, this time at a rotting apple on the ground, and it exploded into a pulpy mass of brown mush.

  She held out her hand for another arrow.

  “That’s all I brought. I was just giving you a feel for it. I didn’t expect you to take to it like that.”

  Elle did like the weapon. It was quiet and surprisingly accurate. Sure, it was primitive with a limited range and wouldn’t take down anything serious, but she respected the ingenuity. She could imagine Dr. Donovan and Marsh Lapin being friends.

  CHAPTER 11: WALKER

  “It’s definitely Aldebaran tech,” Polk said. “An encrypted personal data vault. Very short range signal, so hard to detect if you don’t know it’s there. It uses a standard handshake but requires a decryption key.”

  “Can we brute force it?” Marsh asked.

  “Just a moment. Let me check the specifications.” Polk tapped and swiped on one of his many displays. “No, it says here that it makes you wait longer between every failed attempt, maxing out at one attempt per day. Huh, it says that you can request unencrypted metadata. That’s unusual. Let me try that.”

  Walker understood the individual words they were saying but was missing the meaning of the conversation. Too self-conscious of his ignorance to say anything, he tried to look like he was following along but Marsh wasn’t fooled. He said to Walker, “We can’t read what’s on the data chip unless we can figure out the combination of letters and numbers to unlock it. And if we guess wrong too many times, we have to wait twenty-four hours between guesses.”

  Walker nodded to acknowledge that he understood.

  “Well, now, this is interesting. Unencrypted metadata isn’t part of any standard protocols but this could be a clue to the key.” Polk tapped on the screen and Marsh leaned in to read it.

  “C-H-E-R-I-C-I-T-R-U-S.” Marsh ran his fingers through his beard as he considered the word. “Che-ricit-rus. Che-ric-itus. Che-ri-citrus. Oh, it’s cheri citrus. Of course. I wonder… How long does the decryption key have to be?”