Weight of Ashes

by Rook Winters

  Inside, the four of them sat around the stained table. Aimar steepled his fingers in front of his chin.

  “There are two options,” he said. “There’s a smuggling compartment under the lobster tanks in some of the train containers. It’s not a pleasant way to travel but it’s cheap. The other option is to pose as a couple who’ve had their IDs stolen. We can arrange to have new IDs waiting in Toronto. I’m assured that the forged identities are of highest quality. You would travel as regular passengers but be flagged for special ID processing upon arrival. The second option would be more comfortable and you’d have IDs afterward. Obviously, that’s also more expensive.”

  “How much are we talking here?” Moriya asked.

  “For which option?”

  “Both.”

  “For IDs and traveling as proper passengers, eight thousand qynars each.”

  “Sixteen thousand qynars? Are you insane?”

  “How much for the lobster containers?” Elle asked. Moriya gave her a sideways glance but held her expression steady otherwise.

  “So you can speak,” Aimar said.

  “How much?”

  “Four thousand qynars each.”

  “Elon’s fire, Aimar, that’s outrageous.”

  “Let’s go outside,” Elle said to Moriya. “We need to confer in private.”

  The three of them strolled the lane while Aimar waited with his children.

  “It’s far too much,” Moriya said. “A regular train ticket would be three hundred, maybe four hundred, qynars. Eight thousand is exploitative. It’s bullshit.”

  “How much do we have?” Court asked.

  “About twelve hundred from converting the copper and silver,” Elle said. “What do you think we’ll get for the medical supplies?”

  “I’m guessing around eight hundred,” Moriya said.

  “So not even close,” Court said. “Half of what we need for one person.”

  “Time to negotiate,” Moriya said. She turned and shouted up the lane, “Thanks, Aimar. We’re going.”

  Confused, Court followed Moriya as she walked away from the house. Within a dozen seconds, Aimar was calling out between gasping breaths as he chased after them.

  “Wait. Wait. Moriya, one minute.” When he caught up with them, he said, “My friends, where are you going?”

  “I brought these two here because I thought you would treat them decently and you tried to swindle them. I want no part of that. And you should be ashamed of yourself.”

  “Moriya, please, we have known each other for many years. You know I’m no swindler. Things are very hard for everyone. My markup is standard. The prices reflect the work and the risk in a difficult time.”

  “Two hundred a piece for the IDs. Six hundred each for the train.”

  “Sixteen hundred qynars? Now who is being outrageous?”

  “Then we’ll take our chances elsewhere.”

  “Wait, wait. Four thousand total. I will make nothing but I believe I can negotiate with my colleagues.”

  Moriya scoffed, “I know what train passage costs, Aimar. I don’t believe a fake ID costs three thousand qynars.”

  Aimar sighed. “The IDs are six hundred each. Those are not negotiable. A syndicate in Toronto does the work. For nine hundred each, I can get you on a train but you won’t have a seat. You’ll have to wander the train for a few hours since it makes several stops but you’d be onboard. Three thousand total. The best I can do and I’ll be left with about one qynar to buy my family a few eggs.”

  Moriya frowned but Elle said, “We’ll take it but we pay for the IDs in person, not upfront.”

  It was Aimar’s turn to frown. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

  “Then no deal,” Elle said and started walking away.

  “Wait, wait. I’ll make it work. Yes, I’m sure I can call in a favor somehow.”

  Elle held her hand out and Aimar put his palm against it.

  “We have a deal,” she said.

  “I need to take these two for a few supplies,” Moriya said.

  “Then I will take the time to visit with my children. Meet me at the fish market in an hour with your money so we can finalize the details with my contact on the train.”

  Once Aimar was out of earshot, Moriya said, “What are you doing? You don’t have enough money.”

  “If we’re posing as a couple who were robbed, it would be suspicious for us to arrive with a bunch of qynars. Once we’re past the train’s security, we’ll improvise.”

  “You’re going to get yourself killed. A syndicate that peddles forged IDs isn’t going to let you just walk away without paying. Court, surely you aren’t willing to go along with this.”

  “I know it sounds risky but we already have people trying to kill us. Taking action sounds better than waiting around for them to come find us.”

  Moriya shook her head as she started walking back down the lane. “I don’t see how this doesn’t end badly.”

  She took them to an illicit medical clinic where they sold their supplies for 875 qynars. Moriya and Elle seemed pleased with the amount. Their qynar device, which was about the size of one silver coin, showed their new balance as Q2093.

  Court had never seen such a device until they’d exchanged their coins for it. When he’d held it, Court realized it was the first time he’d touched a truly alien piece of technology. A wave of anxiety had hit him as he considered how far he was moving away from the world he knew.

  They met Aimar as planned and Elle transferred 1800 qynars from her device to Aimar’s. He introduced them to a merchant who explained the plan. When the instructions were finished, Moriya wore a grave expression.

  She pulled Court and Elle aside. “I don’t like this.”

  “It will work out,” Elle said. “I can feel it.”

  Moriya wrapped her enormous arms around both of them at the same time.

  “Be safe and be wise. If you can, send word back to Aimar when you’ve arrived so I won’t have to worry, alright?”

  “We’ll do our best,” Court said, although he realized as he said it that he didn’t know how one sends word back from Toronto to Alma.

  “Aimar will take care of you from here. I need to be getting back. It’s almost dusk and I have an hour’s walk ahead of me.”

  Court reached into his pocket and pulled out a solitary silver coin. “I saved this for you. I know it’s not much, but it’s all I have to say thank you.”

  Moriya looked like she might cry when she saw it. “You sneaky bastard. You waited until it was too late to exchange it for qynars so I couldn’t refuse, didn’t you?”

  Court smiled at her and shrugged. “Maybe you can pay off your meal tab.”

  Moriya gave him another hug. “Marsh taught you well. You’d make him proud if he could see you now.”

  The compliment made Court fidget uncomfortably and Moriya kept looking at him long enough to take it all in. Then she patted Elle on the shoulder and said, “Take good care of him out there.”

  “I will.”

  And with that, Moriya left for her return walk to Chignecto.

  They turned their attention back to the merchant who said, “Oh, just one more thing.”

  CHAPTER 25: PETRA

  Wilkes had his feet up on the desk. Petra hated when he did that. With a firm shove, she pushed his utility boots off the work surface.

  “Hey.”

  Petra brushed off the sprinkling of dirt left behind. “Next interview is starting. I need my space.”

  On one of several active tablet screens, a live video showed Kane leaning over a table and staring into the eyes of a nervous-looking man in a lab coat.

  “Dr. Lochlan, you worked with Clint Donovan for almost two years. When is the first time you suspected he was a terrorist?”

  It was a ridiculous opening question, but a psychologist had recommended it as an opening salvo for these interrogations. He had argued that it would threaten the scientists’ egos to have missed something
so significant and that the outmoded word terrorist would evoke emotions from the mostly older contingent of researchers.

  It worked on old Lochlan. Flustered, he stumbled over his response until he squeaked out, “I never thought he was a terrorist.”

  “I see.” Kane pretended to take notes on his tablet. So much of an interrogation was theater. Three sentences in and Lochlan was on the defensive, feeling insecure, and worried about his reputation. The man would talk. The question that remained to be answered was whether he knew anything of value.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I knew he was willing to challenge policies and fight the status quo. Everybody knew that. But kidnapping a patient, that was unexpected.”

  “And tell me, doctor, why do you think he kidnapped patient L37?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I know he loved her like a daughter. It’s natural, most of us get attached to our wards. That’s why we aren’t allowed to be in control of their research programs. Maybe he caught wind of what was in the plan for Elle and decided he didn’t want that for her.”

  “Elle?”

  “That’s what Clint nicknamed her. Most of the subjects have nicknames, something more personal than their identification number.”

  “I see.” More pretending to take notes. “What was L37’s research program?”

  “I didn’t work with her directly but her L designation means she’s in a program for adapting humans to interact with the Others.”

  “Qyntarak.”

  “What?”

  “Qyntarak, not Others. This is a formal investigation, doctor. You should use official language. Many Qyntarak are offended by being called other. And some of them may see the recordings or transcripts of these interviews.”

  “Oh…”

  “Let’s stick to the subject at hand. L37 was part of an experimental group for making humans better at communicating with Qyntarak?”

  “Yes, based on her designation. I’d have to pull up her records to tell you specifics.”

  “No, that’s fine. I’ll be speaking with the researchers that worked directly with her. Tell me, though, why wasn’t L37 reported missing until the staff here was questioned about Dr. Donovan?”

  “I don’t know. Like I said, I didn’t work directly with her.”

  “So someone working directly with L37 was collaborating with Clint Donovan.”

  Lochlan held up his hands. “Hold on, I didn’t say that. That’s a big assumption to make. Look, these aren’t rats in a twentieth century lab. They’re complex human beings, many of them teenagers, and they have all the same problems as regular teenagers. They get sick, they have bad days, they have fights with their friends, they give people the silent treatment. Nobody gets too bent out of shape if a patient misses a daily check-in every now and then. We worry about trends and the big picture. You have to roll with the punches on a day-to-day basis. Working with humans is messy, you know?”

  Kane smiled at that. “Believe me, I know.”

  It was obvious to Petra that Dr. Lochlan was another dead end. They had seventeen more researchers to interview and several dozen assistants after that. The first seven scientists had provided no actionable intelligence. She knew what would come next—Kane would have to issue an official bulletin looking for L37.

  “Thank you, doctor. That’s all for now. We may call you back for more discussion.”

  “Oh, alright then.” Lochlan rose from his chair clumsily and fumbled with the door handle. Petra frowned. Having the door locked when interviewees tried to leave was a childish power move but Kane liked people to feel off balance around him.

  “Let me get that for you,” Kane said.

  Beside her, Wilkes tapped on his wrist computer to unlock the door.

  Kane followed Lochlan into the hallway and came into the next room where Wilkes and Petra were waiting.

  “Another dud,” Petra said.

  “Donovan must’ve really been living two lives,” Wilkes said, “for seven of them to be clueless.”

  “Nothing from the sensors?”

  “Nothing,” Petra said. “Body temperature, pheromone release, sweat production, eye dilation, all negative. No signs of deception, only stress and nervousness.”

  “And you can’t blame him for that,” Wilkes said.

  “These are scientists who specialize in controlling human physiology. It’s not out of the question that they’ve found a way to suppress their reactions. But we don’t have time to waste on that. We need to put out a bulletin for L37. High priority facial recognition analysis on all video feeds. Voice recognition in all transportation stations. Confirm that we have triggers on her identity, all her bank accounts, and her data files. Any sightings, any access, we move. Instruct local authorities to apprehend and detain with prejudice, treat as dangerous and hostile.”

  “You got it, boss,” Wilkes said.

  “I’m going to take a break. You can both take fifteen as well, as soon as you get those bulletins out.”

  When the featureless gray door closed behind Kane, Petra asked if Wilkes wanted help with the bulletins.

  “Nah, will only take a couple minutes.”

  “Alright, I’m going to get a little sunshine and a cup of tea. You want something?”

  “Coffee would be great. Thanks.”

  Petra noticed her hands were shaking as she reached for the door. She shoved them into the pockets of her slacks as she walked. Once outside, she moved behind some shrubs where she knew there were no cameras aimed and put her hands on her knees while she fought to get her pounding heart under control. When she stood up again, her palms left sweaty prints behind on her pants.

  CHAPTER 26: BRITT

  Bear frowned as he delivered the news about their last shipment.

  “All of it?” Britt asked, still not believing the report.

  “All of it. Tea, coffee, and medicine. So not only is no medicine going out, we won’t get paid for the tea and coffee either.”

  “Well, nacking sour split.”

  “Such language.”

  “Not ladylike enough for you?”

  “You just don’t hear old human profanity mixed with Qyntarak metaphors very often.”

  “What can I say, I’m a cultural bridge builder.”

  “Not enough of a bridge builder to keep our shipments from being seized.”

  “Our illegal, undocumented shipments, you mean?”

  “Yes, those.”

  “You know as well as I do that it happens. I’m glad to see you’re worked up about it, though. It means you haven’t lost your heart.”

  “People are going to die without that medicine. I’d say you’re not worked up enough.”

  She exhaled a slow, weary sigh. “I learned a long time ago that this is a game of averages. Losing the occasional package is a cost of playing the game.”

  Bear’s frown intensified.

  “Blazes, I’m not happy about it. You don’t have to frown for the both of us.”

  “There’s more. The reason I came to see you in person. Novak’s disappeared.”

  “That’s inconvenient. Where was he transferred?”

  “Not transferred. Not fired, either. Just disappeared.”

  “Shit.”

  “The timing can’t be a coincidence.”

  “I’d say not. Could be one of the syndicates making a play for control of the smuggling routes.”

  “But why eliminate Novak if he was already bribable?”

  “I’m not sure. What do we know about who is replacing him?”

  “Nothing yet. I’m having drinks later today with some managers. I’ll see what I can glean.”

  “Good. Thank you. Time to get more serious in the hunt for alternate drop sites in case Novak’s replacement is a tight ass.”

  “What about the Willow Wisp? Is there any way…”

  “I wish there was, but if we had a way to get things into a launch later in the process, we wouldn’t be sneaking containers onto cargo trains.”


  “What about a smaller crate? Enough for their worst cases?”

  Britt closed her eyes and shook her head.

  “I’m sorry. I know you have people up there.”

  “The last message was…”

  “Heartbreaking. I know. I’ll transmit a message to let the Wisp know that the shipment isn’t coming. We’ll just have to hope they can keep the virus at bay for the next six months.”

  CHAPTER 27: ELLE

  Elle rubbed her hand over her scalp again after they sat down in the dining car. Her head felt cold.

  “You have to stop doing that. It’s making you look nervous.”

  “I can’t help it. It feels so weird.”

  “You’ll get used to it. I shave my hair all the time. Besides, it’ll grow back.”

  “Except growing it back means it won’t match the new ID photo and we can’t do anything that gives anyone a reason to look closely at our IDs. So it might be like this for a while. I just hope that guy was right that this is in style in Toronto right now.”

  “For what it’s worth, it looks good on you.”

  She smiled and turned to study her reflection in the window. The style was simple with most of her hair trimmed so short it was barely visible. Only a narrow strip of longer hair curved from the front right to the back left.

  She had a sunburn from so much time outside. The merchant who took her ID photo promised he would alter it to reduce the redness so the picture would better match her natural coloring when the sunburn faded.

  The dining car was utilitarian with tables bolted to the floor and plain, ivory-colored benches that wouldn’t be comfortable for the full three hours they’d be on the train. Physical discomfort was quickly becoming a theme of her new life.

  Wall-mounted displays alternated between photos of the daily specials and instructions for ordering food from wrist computers or personal tablets. Since they had neither, it was unlikely they’d be eating any of the train food, which was for the best since the prices would cut heavily into the 286 qynars they had left.

  “Shouldn’t the train be leaving?” Court asked.

  “Soon, I think.”

  She kept staring out the window. He fidgeted with his fingers while they waited.