Dawn of Dae

by R. J. Blain

  I decided Colby agreed to make myself feel better, took a step back, and drew a deep breath. “Are you a dae?”

  Maybe my idea had some merit, because Colby hopped onto the sheet of paper indicating yes.

  “Are you my dae?”

  Colby hopped to the other sheet of paper.

  My next question scared me, but if I didn’t ask, I’d never find out. “Do I have a dae?”

  Instead of picking one sheet of paper, Colby bounced between the two in a frantic dance.

  “You’re not sure?”

  Colby answered no. I frowned. “You are sure?”

  When Colby answered yes, I was tempted by the idea of kicking my macaroni and cheese into next week. How could I have a dae but not have a dae? It made no sense to me. Forcing myself to take several calming breaths, I considered the problem—and how my question could have two answers.

  “Do I have a dae, but in a way different from most people?”

  After a moment of hesitation, Colby mostly slid off the paper, leaving me to once again wonder what it meant. “I don’t have a dae, but I associate with them? Like I do with you?”

  Colby plopped onto the sheet of paper labeled yes and squealed, “Mommy!”

  Great. If Colby was right, I didn’t I have a dae of my own but I’d be neck deep in dealing with them, like it or not.

  “Do you have a human?”

  Once again, Colby did its frantic dance between the two sheets of paper.

  “So you’re like me, you don’t have a human, but you associate with them?”

  “Mommy!” Colby settled on the piece of paper with yes written on it.

  “Thanks, Colby.”

  When I had a chance to really think things through, I’d ask Colby more questions. I laughed at the thought of my macaroni and cheese being more helpful than the President of the United States and shook my head at how crazy the world had become in the course of a single day.

  Seven

  Elite were always looking for ways to extend their lifespans.

  Considering the circumstances, a smart woman would have remained hidden in the safety of her apartment. I liked to believe I was smart, but I got dressed, grabbed the list of names the dean had given me, pocketed some of my cash and my gloves, dumped some bills on the counter for my refrigerator-filling benefactors to find, and left for the campus.

  Since the President of the United States had announced the government’s intention to openly advance those with powerful dae to the upper castes, the college would be a madhouse—and a dangerous one at that. Without a dae of my own, would I be able to recognize who—or what—was an actual threat?

  Probably not.

  I couldn’t even tell if my macaroni and cheese would rise up to kill me. So far, Colby seemed content to clean and do repairs in my apartment. For its safety, I’d begged it to stay home while I ventured to the college, uncertain of how the other dae would react to my sentient casserole.

  That I didn’t turn around and march right back to my apartment proved I was a candidate for admission into an asylum. Only the insane would knowingly walk into ground zero of a dangerous situation. If I survived the day, I’d seriously think about a slide back into my old ways and hunt down a dealer for some sedatives. If I didn’t resort to some form of medication, I doubted I’d ever be able to unwind.

  I wished Kenneth had given me a gun for my task of sniffing out Terry Moore. Maybe my mark was already dead, but I needed a way to protect myself and fast. While Colby had done a good job of keeping the nasties at bay, I needed to defend myself. Kneeing Rob in the gut when he had gotten too close for my comfort had worked, but I doubted such tricks would protect me from most dae for long.

  Not much had changed from the evening before; smoke hung over the city in a shroud, and the fumes stung my nose and made my eyes water. Instead of cars packing the streets, huge crowds surrounded the college. The gate leading to the campus was guarded by men and dae with large guns reserved for military use. Police kept the walkway between my apartment building and the college clear. As I approached the front doors of the building, a woman with a tiny, foot-long dragon perched on her shoulder gestured to me.

  The dragon reminded me of Terry Moore, bejeweled in a fortune of shimmering gemstones.

  “Are you a student, Miss?” she asked. The only sign the woman wasn’t fully human—at least any longer—was the odd orange tint to her eyes.

  There were several ways I could introduce myself, and I decided to pick the one most likely to get me to the main administration building without getting eaten along the way. “I’m one of the dean’s student assistants, Officer,” I replied.

  “Are you petitioning to elevate your caste?”

  Without a dae, I had zero chance of success, so I shook my head. The woman made a thoughtful sound, probably trying to decide if I was lying to her. After a few moments, she nodded. “Name?”

  “Alexa Daegberht.” I waited while the officer pulled out a palm-sized tablet, tapping at the screen several times. Unlike me, who had to tap in every command manually, the woman concentrated, betraying her rank as an elite. The implants allowing thought-based control of electronics were so far out of my league I rarely paid attention to who did and didn’t have them.

  Most people had no idea how to spell my name, but the implants let the officer search for my name in the college records without having to spell it. Sure enough, several moments later, the officer nodded and gestured to one of the other officers.

  He was a werewolf, although he didn’t have wings. Dae, apparently, favored feathers, because he had a bright red crest of them, which snapped up at the summons. “Yes?”

  “This woman is one of the college employees. Make certain she gets there without delay,” the woman ordered.

  The wolf licked its lips, displaying its sharp, pointy teeth. After witnessing what one of his kind had done to Terry Moore, I had no doubts he could chew through my bones without much effort. I swallowed, and despite my instinct and desire to return to my apartment, I forced a smile.

  “This way,” the werewolf growled, stalking towards the street.

  The gathered humans and dae alike got out of his way. The police officer had retractable claws, which he flexed and showed off. He didn’t need a gun; all he had to do was flick out his hands and wiggle his fingers to scare people, myself included.

  I made some quick adjustments to my general list of priorities. While escaping Kenneth Smith’s plans for me was still near the top, he wouldn’t matter if I got eaten by a hungry dae.

  Despite my misgivings about keeping company with a werewolf, I made it all the way to the main administration building without being hassled. The campus was packed, and by the time I reached the dean’s office, my head spun from the variety of species I encountered.

  Like Kelsie, a few of them sniffled and coughed, and I bet we’d get to enjoy an early flu season thanks to the dae. Hopefully, Kelsie would get over her cold, although I suspected the dae present at the college would be on the mend sooner than my friend would.

  They could afford good food and medical treatment.

  Most of dae present belonged in fairy tales or horror novels, which only made me wonder how much of what I had perceived as fantasy was actually founded on some twisted reality somehow hidden from the world for ages. I had no idea where they had come from, but whoever had created them was a pretty twisted person—or they were a fan of banned literature.

  Maybe the shifters were gathering in force because their changes were so obvious, but as I worked my way towards the dean’s office, the number of normal-looking people increased exponentially, until my werewolf escort was the only truly strange being in the area. He left me in the hall. I was aware of the line of people staring at me.

  The dean’s office door opened, drawing the attention of those in line. The dean escorted a young man out, and like so many others I had seen, his eyes were tinged with purple.

  “Ah, you’re here, Miss Daegberht. Excelle
nt. You will help prescreen the hopefuls,” the dean said, returning to his office only to return moments later with a slim laptop, which he offered to me. I took it, tucking it under my arm with my papers. “Coordinate with the police staff and set up outside. Send those who pass the initial prescreening to my office for additional questioning. The last idiot was sending everyone this way. I trust you can do better.”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied, wondering if the last idiot had gotten himself killed being stupid. “What qualifications do you want me to check for?”

  “Make certain the shifters know how to change forms, for starters. If they can’t function as a human, they’re certainly not fit for the elite caste,” the dean snapped, glaring at the line. When he didn’t see any non-humans, he relaxed. “We’ve seen enough fire-breathers for a decade. Try to find me someone interesting, Miss Daegberht.”

  The last thing I wanted was to meet anyone interesting if breathing fire counted as normal. I restrained my urge to sigh and replied, “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. I’d like to go home sometime tonight, so get to work.”

  “Yes, sir.” While old-fashioned, I bowed, turned on a heel, and marched by the line, once again aware of those staring at me. At least their expressions had changed from scorn to curiosity. While I looked old for my age, I was still young enough. They were likely considering how to earn favor with me so they could get favor with the dean. If they were stupid enough to think I could help them, it wasn’t my problem.

  It’d be difficult enough keeping my nose clean and staying in favor with the dean and college when I was on the fast track for rejoining the lowest caste, no matter what education level I achieved. I sighed, headed out the front doors of the main building, and hunted down one of the uniformed police officers.

  I chose the first one who looked human. He was an older man with graying hair and a bullet scar streaking across one of his cheeks. At my approach, he frowned.

  “The dean wants me to prescreen people, Officer. I’ve been told to coordinate with you.”

  “Well, you’re already ahead of the other bloke,” he replied, snorting his disgust. Were the dae imports from Britain? I was starting to think so, considering their accents and tendency to use odd slang. “Come along, then. We already had a station set up, but he was about as useful as a bloody sack of rocks.”

  I wondered who could manage to irritate so many people; I had no idea what working for the dean was actually like, but he didn’t seem too bad, as far as the elite went. Strict expectations and a tendency to overlook good performance was pretty normal, as were harsh crackdowns for failure to perform as expected.

  Then again, the dean seemed to get along with Kenneth, which put the man in the worst-of-the-worst category by default. The type of men who got along with my drug-dealing boss were usually the type who viewed those in the lower castes as stepping stones and little else.

  The cop led me to the far end of the campus close to the main gate, which was a noisy bustle of people—and shifted dae—all desperate for their one chance to break out of their set lot in life. So many people were shouting I could barely hear myself think, which didn’t bode well for me screening anyone.

  I narrowed my eyes at the sturdy wooden table set up within a stone’s throw of the gate before turning in a slow circle. I had no idea what the nearby three-storied brick and stone building was for, but it was fringed with trees offering shade and would offer some shelter from the noise—and a place to isolate people for screening.

  “If you move the table over there, it’ll be easier to screen people and control the flow of the crowd. Let in a couple dozen at a time, line them up, and once it’s clear, let in a new batch,” I suggested, pointing at the largest of the trees flanking the building. “The rejects you can take to one of the other gates while the good ones can be escorted to the administration building.”

  The cop stared at me, turned his attention to the table serving as a desk, and glanced over his shoulder at the crowd. When he chuckled, his expression softened, his frown making way for a friendly grin. “Good thinking,” he replied, snapping his fingers at several of the cops near the gate, recruiting them to the task of moving the heavy table and its chair, neither of which were really meant to be outdoors in the first place.

  When the table was in position, I tossed my stack of papers to the side, flipping them upside down so no one would see the list of names. I scowled at the spreadsheet someone had rigged for the screening process. While I could make it work, it was clunky, and it’d be easy to make mistakes entering data.

  I hated when someone else set me up to fail, but there was nothing I could to about it. I could code a form, but it’d take time—time I didn’t have. Sighing, I reviewed what little information I’d been given, created a list of questions, and memorized them.

  I braced myself for a living hell and signaled to one of the police officers, who let in the first wave of hopefuls looking to take advantage of an offer the President never should have made in the first place.

  There wasn’t a single human in the first batch of people the police escorted to my table. I counted six werewolves, with and without wings, one dragon, and a flock of geese with human faces.

  None of them seemed capable of figuring out how to form a line without intervention, which didn’t give me much hope of finding someone useful or interesting. “Werewolves first, line up,” I ordered, filling out the spreadsheet with what information I could while waiting for them to get their acts together.

  It didn’t take them too long, and once satisfied they weren’t going to mob me all at once, I pointed at the first in line. Unlike the other werewolves I had seen, who had legs similar to a human’s, his were long and gangly, and his entire body bobbed as he loped to me. His nostrils flared, and he lowered his head, snuffling.

  “Your name?” I asked, keeping my attention on the computer.

  “Gerald,” he growled.

  “Surname?”

  Like me, he had an unusual last name; instead of even bothering to pronounce it, he spelled it. Asians weren’t common in Baltimore, and I wondered what had brought the man overseas, and how he had managed to get a visa in the first place.

  “Age?”

  “Fifty-three.”

  I paused, glancing up from the screen. As a werewolf, there were no signs of him being an older man. His brown and black fur was free of gray. Maybe werewolves didn’t age in the same way as dogs? I noted his age in the spreadsheet, added a column for comments, and noted his lack of aging.

  Elite were always looking for ways to extend their lifespans.

  “Address and occupation.”

  As expected, Gerald lived within the fringe, and before the dae had showed up, he had been a shipyard worker. At his age, I had the feeling he was close to outliving his usefulness.

  I understood desperate. After all, I worked for Kenneth Smith.

  “Can you shift to human?” I asked, careful to keep my eyes locked on the screen.

  “Yes,” he snarled, “but I don’t want to.”

  “Shifters who can’t shift don’t see the dean; his orders,” I replied, risking a glance upward. “If you want to see the dean, you need to demonstrate you have skills suitable for the elite caste.”

  I hated the words coming out of my mouth, but if I didn’t show my authority, it’d be taken away from me, and like the person before me, I’d be proven useless in short order.

  “I can shift,” the werewolf whined before he glanced over his shoulder, sighed, and began to transform.

  Accepting men could turn into beasts and dealing with the consequences of such a drastic change in our reality with so little time to adapt was one thing, but watching the process was another entirely. Fur didn’t sprout from human skin under normal circumstances, and I learned something rather gross about the dae in less than thirty seconds.

  Werewolf dae had a lot of extra bits compared to humans, and in order to shift between forms, they had to get rid of the excess.
It surprised me the scientific laws of conversion of matter seemed to apply to the dae. In Gerald’s case, what didn’t quite match human anatomy ended up on the ground around his feet. Bones shifted, cracked, and sloughed off the excess, and while Gerald had easily been eight to nine feet tall when fully erect, he was shorter than I was when human.

  To make matters worse, judging from the way Gerald’s expression contorted, it hurt like hell. By the time it was over, he was gasping for air and shaking.

  His clothes, at least, went with him, though even watching, I had no idea how his jeans and denim work shirt survived the transformation without so much as a single bloodstain.

  Magic, I decided, was alive and well on Earth, because science had no way to explain the process.

  I swallowed several times so I wouldn’t throw up and made another note on my laptop. At fifty-three years old, Gerald looked younger than I did. I cleared my throat and asked, “May I see your identification card, please?”

  He pulled out a worn wallet from his back pocket and tossed the whole thing to me. I caught it, dug out the card, and verified his age. I offered the wallet back, made a final note commenting on his youthful appearance, and gestured for one of the police.

  “Please send him to the administration building,” I said, and watching him go, I wondered which one of us was the bigger, badder monster: him for transforming into a wolf, or me for sending him to the elite, knowing they’d be far more interested in Gerald’s apparent youth than in his well-being.

  I lost track of time while sorting through the endless stream of dae. Through it all, I missed Colby, who came across as far more sensible than most I met. The police seemed determined to send in all of the shifters first, and I was so accustomed to talking to humanoid animals that when the first human approached my desk, I gawked, at a total loss of what to say or do. She was a middle-aged woman with pale blond hair and blue eyes a match for the autumn sky.