Weight of Ashes

by Rook Winters

  “Well, my friend, the situation has become dire. My contacts in the leadership leaked to me that a new law is coming. Humans are being reclassified. We will effectively become livestock.”

  Polk stopped the playback again. “I told you if you were Claimers to get out. This maniac sounds like a Claimer propagandist to me.”

  Marsh felt lightheaded. “And I already told you we’re not Claimers. I don’t believe Clint was either. He’s not a radical or an activist. But if what he’s saying is true…”

  “I want you out. Pay your bill and leave.”

  “We’re not paying until we see the whole thing.”

  “Listen, old man,” Polk said and gripped Marsh’s shirt sleeve. Walker, who had been watching silently, grabbed Polk’s wrist and twisted it. The man was a couple decades older but the boy was strong from a life of manual labor. Polk lost his grip on Marsh and swore at Walker. “You two are a pain in the ass. Get out.”

  “Let’s all just settle down,” Marsh said. “Polk, you and I have a decent history. You’re a business man. This video is just the rambling of an old man who’s dead now anyway. Let it play and get paid. No one will ever know we were here.”

  Polk’s eyes rolled upward as he considered the situation. Whether persuaded by the silver or the unexpected strength of Walker’s grip or an urge to hear the rest of the video, Polk resumed the playback without further comment.

  Marsh listened then said, “It’s time for Elle and me to follow your lead. We are abandoning the research lab to live off the land where we can still enjoy some freedom. If something happens to me, I pray that you will welcome Elle into your community. She is smart and has a strong work ethic. I hope you never have to hear this message. I am looking forward to seeing you face to face soon.”

  “That’s it?” Polk said. “No offense to your friend but that was a little underwhelming at the end.”

  “You know us old scientist folks.”

  “Now you leave and I don’t want to see you again. Next time you need to acquire something for your little commune, go elsewhere, understand?”

  “As you say.” Marsh dropped three rough silver coins and seven copper ones into Polk’s outstretched hand.

  Polk frowned at the sum. “That’s not enough.”

  “That’s all we have.”

  Polk clamped his hand shut. “Then you’d better go and don’t bother coming back to Alma at all. No one’s going to deal with you once I spread word that you can’t pay your fees. I hope hearing from your dead pal was worth it.”

  Marsh clasped Walker’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  They left the tavern and then the town in silence.

  Once they were well beyond the last building, it was Walker who broke the silence. “That doesn’t seem like it was worth it.”

  “No, I suppose it would seem that way if my translation had been accurate. Clint didn’t ask us to welcome Elle into our community.”

  CHAPTER 14: COURT

  Three clangs of the bell.

  Bear in the village.

  Court swung his feet to the ground from the bunk he’d been napping on.

  “Elle?”

  No reply.

  Where is she?

  The fog from sleep was still heavy as he pulled on his boots.

  Apple picking, she went harvesting with some villagers.

  He grabbed a pot and a wooden spoon on his way outside. A bear would leave on its own if given the chance. It didn’t want to be around humans any more than the humans wanted it in their village. Court just had to follow protocol—make sure none of the children were roaming in the wrong spot and bang a pot to encourage the animal to move northward through the cabins. He’d done it at least a dozen times over the years.

  A mother and daughter were returning to their cabin next to Court’s, the little girl almost running to keep up with her mom.

  “Where is it?” Court asked.

  The girl pointed. “Dat way. By da hospidal.”

  Court winked at her. “Thanks.”

  He walked quickly but with caution. Sneaking up on a scared bear was a good way to get an extended visit to the “hospidal.” He heard a couple bangs on a pot then someone hollered, “Stop.”

  Court quickened his pace and found a less than ideal scenario. Several villagers were out with pots and pans. The bear was slapping its paws on the ground and snorting at Brighton. Court could hear the clacking of the bear’s molars as it opened and closed its mouth. It was agitated and scared. Brighton was only eight but he knew protocol. This shouldn’t be happening.

  Standing between two cabins in the middle of the bear’s escape route was Elle, a basket of apples locked in the death grip of her white-knuckled hands.

  Court waved his hand at her, motioning for her to back up. She nodded in understanding.

  He kept his voice soft and calm. “Brighton, back away. Slowly.”

  The boy took a step back and the bear lunged forward. It would be a bluff meant to reinforce Brighton’s retreat. The boy yelped and triple stepped backward. Then an apple struck the bear in the side of the head. It grunted and its ears folded back as it turned. Another apple hit the bear’s neck and it started to charge. Court didn’t think this one would be a bluff and he sprinted after it, not considering what would happen when he tackled a black bear with only a pot and spoon in hand. A third apple hit the bear on the nose and it let out a high-pitched barking sound as its charge faltered.

  “Get out of the way,” Court shouted at Elle.

  She still had an apple in her hand ready to throw when she jumped to the side, almost slamming into the wall of a cabin, and Court screamed while smacking the spoon against his pot. With a clear path in front of it, the bear bolted.

  Others joined in and they chased the bear with their din as it ran across the clearing beyond the village and crashed through a stand of birch saplings.

  Court returned to Elle who was staring at the apples trampled by the bear.

  “What in the nacking hell is wrong with you?” he bellowed.

  “You told me to throw apples at it.”

  “Are you insane? I told you to back away.”

  “You went like this.” She waved her arm in a throwing motion.

  “I was telling you to back up.”

  “That’s clearly a signal for throwing.”

  Court pointed to Brighton who was being led away by his mother, the front of his pants soaked through. “The bear was bluffing. That’s what they do. You start throwing things at it and it becomes unpredictable. Brighton could’ve been seriously hurt. Or worse.”

  One of the parents, Andrus, jammed a finger into Court’s chest. “This is your fault. Marsh left you in charge of watching the girl. Have you taught her any of the protocols?”

  Andrus poked Court again and Court grabbed the man’s finger. Court had fast reflexes and a low tolerance for accusations. He wasn’t going to take this from Andrus. The guy had a lot of bluster for someone who let the garlic crop die.

  “Bear visits are rare. It wasn’t a high priority.” He squeezed the finger and Andrus squirmed.

  “Let go of me.” Andrus pushed Court and he let go of the finger. “Mind your place, boy.”

  Court clenched his jaw involuntarily. He heard the faint voice of Marsh in his mind, a memory from a lesson long ago.

  Control yourself first so you can control your surroundings.

  Easy for Marsh to say when everyone respected and deferred to him. Court didn’t realize he’d squeezed his hand into a fist until he felt Elle wrap her hands around it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know and Court’s right, there have been other things to focus on, like pulling my own weight around here.”

  “Do better next time.” Andrus spun in place and marched off toward the gardens.

  Court looked down at Elle’s hands on his. She let go and he felt a little disappointed.

  “Next time you do better with your hand signals,” she said and after an a
wkward moment of silence, they both laughed. Genuine laughter that melted the tension. It felt good. He hadn’t heard her laugh before. He liked it.

  “Court.” He turned to see Colleen waving at him. “Can you go relieve Paulo from watch and tell him to come see me? You can take Elle with you. Wouldn’t hurt for her to learn about keeping watch.”

  “Of course,” he said.

  Getting to the watch platform required climbing stairs so steep they were almost a ladder. When they were near the top, Court called up, “Hey, Paulo, Colleen wants to see you. She asked me to relieve you.”

  “About the bear, I suppose.”

  Court chuckled. “Hard to imagine it’s about anything else. What happened?”

  “I don’t know. It came barreling in like the forest was burning down, and it was really moving. I didn’t even have time to grab a noisemaker.”

  Elle pulled herself up onto the platform after Court. “A noisemaker?”

  Paulo flipped open a container and pointed at a miniature mag gun.

  “Another Marsh invention,” Court said. “Fires a special arrow that makes a loud noise when it hits something.”

  Paulo pointed at the ground. “If something wanders into the clearing and doesn’t leave when you yell at it, you fire one of them at the ground between the animal and the village. Scares the spit out of them most of the time and they take off back the way they came.”

  “And scares the teeth off the little kids in the village,” Court added.

  “Alright,” Paulo said, “I best be getting over to see Colleen.”

  When Paulo was gone, Elle asked, “How often do bears come into the village?”

  “Not very often. Young ones’ll wander into the clearing every year until they learn about the noisemakers. It’s pretty rare to get one right in the village. Once every year or two. Strange for this time of year. Usually, it’s in the spring when they’re hungry after waking up from hibernation.”

  Elle stared off into the trees. “So something out there must have scared it.”

  CHAPTER 15: KANE

  Kantarka-Ta uncurled its upper body to expose its feeding slit. It was as long as Kane’s forearm. A thick, opaque mucus hung in strands between a dozen mandibles as they pushed open the slit. Kantarka-Ta leaned forward onto its pile of chilled meat. Kane guessed it was gorilla based on the smell but he was no expert.

  Kantarka-Ta wasn’t the only Qyntarak to develop a taste for primate but he had an extreme proclivity for it. When the new laws come into effect, it wouldn’t be out of the question for human meat to appear on its plate, and Kane suspected it wouldn’t be the first time for Kantarka-Ta.

  When is it too much?

  The question was haunting him more frequently these days. One of his informants had said they were selling out their species. The next day, he took his own life.

  No, we’re just trying to survive like everyone else.

  Kane had access that let him occasionally influence decisions that impacted humans. That was more than he’d be able to do if he was blacklisted and unable to work. And changes were going to come regardless. He might as well be comfortable while they did. That was more than most people could hope for.

  Kantarka-Ta finished pushing meat through the slit with its mandibles then retracted them so the slit could close. Kantarka-Ta folded over its upper body, returning to the natural standing position of a Qyntarak.

  Kane was careful to hold his position and keep his expression neutral. Kantarka-Ta was skilled at reading human body language, a rare talent among Qyntarak. It was unnecessary for it to invite Kane in during its feeding time. It wanted him to be intimidated. He refused to be.

  “Kane,” it hissed, “how rude of me to not of-f-fer you any.”

  Kane tapped the helmet of his suit. “Translator’s on. No need to make me suffer listening to your English.”

  Kantarka-Ta leaned back in irritation and Kane suppressed a smile. Perhaps he’d gotten too comfortable taking shots at this particular Qyntarak. Even though they both reported to the governor, they were not equals. He didn’t want to end up on its feeding tray at some point.

  “Genuine suffering in reality I wish on you, ape.”

  “Ape? That’s over the line—”

  “Shut your talking hole.” The translation didn’t convey the intensity of the message. Through the helmet’s thermal overlay, Kane saw the hot spots at the base of the Qyntarak’s antennae. It was not in a good mood. “We have business.”

  Kane dropped his chin and took a step back, a human variation of a Qyntarak yielding the floor. His instincts were telling him to defuse the interaction rather than escalate it.

  “Your team has the requirement to investigate a report from the minor city of Alma.”

  “Alma? That’s near where Donovan was taken down.”

  “Accurate. Donovan is part of the subject of the investigation. Two human males went to Alma with a data vault two days before today. It stored a recording of Clint Donovan. Clint Donovan talked about the improved laws and a subject from the research organization. A local security team searched the area where Clint Donovan was terminated but the body and transport are not there any longer. You are required to go in the company of your staff and sanitize.”

  “Two days ago? Why are we just hearing of this now?”

  “It took time for the intelligence to ascend the layers of management. A local freelancer sold the information because the two human males did not pay adequate prices for services.”

  “Do we have a copy of the recording?”

  “No.”

  “And what about the research subject?”

  “Clint Donovan was the guardian for a human female patient. The location of that patient is unknown.”

  “Was she reported missing?”

  “No. Not until staff were questioned.”

  “So people were covering for Donovan.”

  “Data is insufficient to create that conclusion.”

  “Did he take her with him?”

  “The security staff who tracked Clint Donovan said no.”

  “So you have a dead scientist, a missing patient, a video leaking sensitive information, and at least three people who know about it. And you thought my organization wouldn’t be needed anymore. Someone’s got to clean up your messes.”

  Kantarka-Ta flung its food tray across the room, spraying Kane’s ambassadorial suit with the remnants of blood mixed with alien mucus. “Do the job you are required to do.”

  He looked down at his suit.

  Gross.

  At least someone else would have to clean that mess.

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes. The two humans who carried the recording. The older human is called Marsh Lapin.”

  “Should that name mean something to me?”

  “Marsh Lapin was my staff.”

  CHAPTER 16: COURT

  Marsh looks exhausted, Court thought. The trip to Alma must have been hard on him.

  In a break from protocol, Court and Elle were seated at the council table with the council members. The council had only invited Elle, but she’d insisted on having Court with her, so the council had brought in a pair of campfire stools for them. The room was cloaked and Marsh was recounting the details of his journey with Walker.

  “His instructions at the end were a little cryptic. He asked if I would have our friend give Elle a tour and ask her how the suit compares to old A2 jackets. To be honest, I don’t know what it means except the part about a friend giving a tour.”

  “The tour guide?” Elle said.

  “I didn’t understand the reference at first but when Clint said ‘the three of us’ in the recording, I knew he meant Nora. We worked on a research project together. She was an anthropologist and used to make extra money doing tours of the city, showing visitors the historic sites. The tour guide is Nora. That’s the friend Clint wants me to take Elle to see.”

  “But why?” Court asked.

  “That I don’t k
now. Elle, what did he tell you about her?”

  “He didn’t tell me anything. We left in a hurry. He came rushing in and said it wasn’t safe anymore and we had to leave. That we had to go find the rabbit and the tour guide. The old motorcycle was waiting outside, I don’t know where he got it. He sealed me in the suit and we left. We didn’t stop until—”

  Her voice caught. Court had an unexpected urge to comfort her, to hold her hand or wrap his arm around her, but he resisted the impulse. It wouldn’t be appropriate in a gathering with the council, he knew that, and he suspected he’d receive a sharp elbow to the ribs from Elle if he did.

  Paul, the bald councilperson, asked, “What are you proposing we do?”

  “Clint was my friend, and this was his dying request of me. I need to honor that. But my first obligation is to the ongoing stability of the village. So this is my proposal: I would like a six month leave of absence and the blessing of the council to go with Elle to find Nora Barrett.”

  Colleen broke the heavy silence. “Marsh, you can’t be serious. You’re still recovering from your trip to Alma. And do you even know where to start looking for someone you knew forty years ago?”

  “It’s been a while since I checked in on her but I know she was a professor at the old University of Toronto until it was closed.”

  “That was a dozen years ago, at least,” Paul said. “She could be anywhere now. And not to be indelicate, but she might not even be alive still.”

  Marsh did not relent. “I understand there are uncertainties, but doing nothing is a bigger risk to the village than not trying. I don’t mean to be insensitive, Elle, but you are a fugitive from a state-sponsored research center. At some point, they’ll come looking for you.”

  “No, I understand. Dr. Donovan was the only family I had. If getting to this Nora Barrett was important enough to give up everything we knew, I want to go.”

  “Marsh, you’re chair of the council,” Colleen said. “It’s not as simple as just taking some time off.”

  “Ah, but it is. The protocols clearly cover this type of scenario. As vice chair, you’ll become acting chair and the council will elect an interim member during my leave.”