by Atlas Kane
Flashing the spear sideways, she cut out the throat of another. And the two remaining warriors struggled to keep her attacks at bay. She stabbed another in the thigh, and he fell to the ground screaming, his leg pouring out blood. But as she made to finish the final attacker off, an axe, thrown by an unseen warrior, crashed into her back.
She fell, trying to hold up her spear to block the next attack. It clattered from her hands and one of the axemen cut out her throat in a quick slash. Satemi fell, bleeding out on the ground and staring at the hut she’d been trying to defend. And as she died, she watched the men rush in and slaughter the last generation of her clan.
Cade wanted to scream, to shout out in protest or draw his own weapon to defend them. Instead, he watched alongside her, helpless and filled with an overwhelming sense of failure.
Then the vision shifted once more, and Cade could feel Satemi within his own mind. He felt her phantom form standing beside him when he was a boy. His own school teacher was talking about his country, its great history, and all that it stands for. The boy listened with rapt attention, and Cade remembered feeling proud of the nation he was born in.
Satemi followed him as the scene shifted. He was standing in a rank of other people, men and women. All were wearing regular clothing, jeans and T-shirts, their hands held up and facing a flag. This was when I pledged my oath to service, Cade realized, and a lump of emotion filled him with unexpected pain. It had meant so much to this young man, only eighteen years old and filled with fervor.
The next scene was one of triumph, Cade marching up a long hill, soaking wet, the skin of his feet pulling free as they trudged onward in wet boots. Purple lightning crackled over the hill and a man in a brown hat began calling out a cadence. The words were well-timed. Exhausted, nearly broken, the young men in his group screamed out their response, filled with more pride and purpose than ever before. Cade carried the heavy gun that was bound to him by destiny. Its extra weight felt like a burden he alone had to endure.
One final change of setting had Cade roiling in discomfort. He somehow knew he could shove Satemi off of him, free himself of this trial. Even as he felt the desire to do so, the memory slowed, almost froze in place.
Why did she deserve these memories of my past? Who is she? But then he recalled her own memories, freely given in an offering. He knew then the purpose of this trial. It was to test a person to see if they knew and accepted themselves. Satemi would know his heart, his deepest regrets and fears when this was over. It was not a complete picture of his mind, but it penetrated past the many layers of ego that people erect to shield themselves from the world.
If someone passed such a test, of course it would be easier to trust them.
So he bit his lip and gave the memory to Satemi.
It was in the spring of 2005. He was in Iraq, in the back of his Stryker, and some song was playing through the vehicle’s speakers. All seemed placid and pleasant for a day spent so far from hearth and home. The men of his platoon, his men, searched the houses of another nameless neighborhood.
All were complacent. It was just an ordinary day.
Then a man emerged from an alleyway, pushing a handcart piled with debris. He seemed to be in a hurry. When he turned to head toward the platoon, Cade waved him off, pointed his gun at the man, and shouted for him to leave.
Instead, the man fell into a run. The cart jostled, a dirty tarp thrown over the top of it. Some indefinable bulk rested below, and Cade could only think of an IED.
Fear gripped Cade, and he aimed his weapon, calling out for the man to stop. Instead, he barreled ahead. Shouting, running, a few warning shots fired, then Cade was sitting behind the barking dragon of his machine gun as it cut the cart, and the man behind it, to pieces.
No explosion came.
He was still alive. He was still alive. And then, somehow, when they searched the cart, not a single weapon was found. No detonation cord, no C-4, no fucking IED was under the tarp. A copy of the holy book was in the man’s front breast pocket, the only thing of note beside a pile of scrap metal and the man’s bullet-shred body.
A whirlwind of old emotion coursed through his very soul. Guilt and shame rode like birds of prey through the gaping holes in his heart. Why did he run at us? Why didn’t he stop? Why did I have to kill a man who had nothing more threatening that a god damned Quran?
Then Cade found himself in a formless room. He stood facing Satemi. The mask was gone, in its place, black tears fell down her strong face. Her form was radiant yet indistinct. “Cade. What is it you want most in life? Why are you in Antinium? And what do you want with my people?”
Her honesty encouraged his own. “I don’t want to be in pain anymore. I want a place to fit in, to be a part of something bigger than myself again. I haven’t felt important or needed since I left the Army. I want both of those. And I don’t desire anything from your people more than simple companionship. It was Vormer who greeted me when I came into Last World. He wants me dead or bound to him. Now that I see there are others who do not abide his law, I have hope again. I wish to join you, Satemi… nothing more.”
The woman nodded and lifted her arm, touching two of her fingers to the center of his forehead.
Cade gasped, his connection to that place suddenly gone. He was covered in sweat and shaking, looking into the metal mask that Satemi wore. The woman removed it with her hands, and gave him a look of shared pain. Tears were streaking down her face unabashedly, and he felt the hot burn of his own.
Fire crackled beside them, and he panted, trying to catch his breath, trying to ground himself in this new place. It was a fine and a foul thing. A new life yet one irrevocably bound to the life he’d lived before. Cade’s body trembled as he looked into the crystalline-green eyes of a woman he now knew as intimately as any of the soldiers he’d served with.
And together, they clutched at the things around them, trying to forget the pain of such disappointment and shame.
12
The Enemy of My Enemy is My Friend with Benefits
Cade hung his head, overwhelmed by the tumult of emotions and relived experiences. He hadn’t known what to expect in the trial, but the reality was taxing to say the least.
A hand on his shoulder made him look up, and the last person in the world he expected gave him a grin. Satemi held out her hand, helping him to his feet. “I am sorry I doubted you. I still don’t like that axe of yours, but as far as I am concerned, you are welcome in this place.”
He accepted the invitation, but had to know more. “I saw your past. That village. It was real, wasn’t it? The memories I gave to you certainly were.”
She nodded gravely, swallowing back emotion.
“What was it like for you, then? You were the one wearing the mask. I know you’ve seen and felt much of my experiences, Satemi, but how do you now trust me?”
Satemi didn’t break eye contact, but he could see her thinking, trying to find the right words to explain. “When you wear the mask, you become connected to the world more intimately. It restricts your sight and even hearing somewhat, but you can feel the emotions, the intentions, the existence of the things around you. And the test. It is a skill that Imenda chose upon gaining a level. It creates a full joining of two souls. You were faced with your own emotions and no doubt felt some of mine. What I experienced, though, far surpassed yours in many ways. I know your heart, and I do not find it wanting, Cade. You are a good man.”
When she finished, she handed him a small waterskin as if it were a gift.
Grateful for some degree of consolation, Cade asked, “What’s this? Water, or…”
“Not water. Also not quite wine, at least not as good as they have in the city. But it tastes nice, and if you don’t drink too much, it won’t kill you.”
Cade tipped back his head and drank deep, the burn of the alcohol helping him come back to the present. Then he wiped the rest of the tears from his face and thanked the woman who only minutes ago had wanted him dead. He could
admit that the moments they’d shared, those most painful and intimate moments, were the best way to not only learn to trust one another, but to take a step beyond into mutual respect, even friendship.
The tension of the trials dissipated shortly after, and everyone fell to the final tasks of preparing a meal for the night.
Waving over Imenda, Cade offered some of his own food. “I have a ton of scorching sweet potatoes and some drakeling meat. Oh, also cobalt plantains. Anything you guys need, I do not mind sharing.”
“That is wonderful. We can throw some of the potatoes in the coals and they will be ready after the main meal is finished. For now, why don’t you hold on to the meat. We have a boar for the night. And those plantains are Minda’s favorite. She will be very grateful to have some for dessert.”
Cade pulled out the offered items, which reduced his Inventory, but it felt like the right thing to do. If these people ate better for a single night, then that was something he wanted to give them.
Soon, portions of roast pig were passed around, and Cade thought sadly about the boar he’d seen earlier. They might be eating that poor beast’s best friend. But when he sat down near Minda and saw her grinning, a chunk of meat being pleasantly crushed in her powerful little jaws, he allowed all sentiment to drift away. Besides, the ribs he was given, a generous portion of meat, tasted so good that he hunkered down and ate it all in a studious fervor that consumed his attention entirely.
When he’d finished, Minda punched him in the arm and laughed. Then she stood up, declaring for all to hear, “This one is strong! I claim him for my tent tonight. Anyone who disagrees will need to match me with bow or blade!” Then she laughed again, her white teeth flashing in the fire light, and left to get a second helping of the steamed plantains.
Cade’s mind spun with thoughts of Minda “claiming him,” making it harder to focus on his meal. Is she serious? Woman is so fine, I wouldn’t kick her out of bed for making crumbs. He fantasized of what her body might look like underneath her clothes and moved on to one of the sweet potatoes Imenda brought him.
Peeling away the skin was easy after it cooked in the hot coals of the fire. He was hesitant at first until Imenda patted him on the shoulder and encouraged him. “When you cook them long enough, most of their fire is extinguished. Don’t worry. They’re delicious.”
Sure enough, the sweet potatoes tasted good.
Cade ate four of them.
More of the jungle wine flowed from a few skins, and Cade noticed the hazy blur of the beginnings of a solid buzz take over his mind. Bring it on, he thought and took another pull off the nearest skin.
A few of the other villagers were sitting close by, talking to themselves in a tight group. One held the carved club he’d seen earlier, a hardwood weapon, polished by extensive handling. The sight made him curious. “Hey, excuse me for asking, but where are your soul weapons? I saw that more than a few of you carry ordinary weapons.”
The chatter died down, and nobody offered an answer. Some even glanced down in shame.
Satemi was the first to answer. “That golden pubic hair of a man took them. All that come into this world are given a choice of soul weapon, but though they cannot be destroyed, they can be taken. That mask you saw me wear is not my own. It is Imenda’s. It’s a powerful weapon and tool of its own kind, but it doesn’t belong to me. Still, if I were a bastard like Vormer, I could kill her and take it for my own.”
Cade thought about her words for a moment, the significance of it churning his stomach. “And he took all of their weapons. How then did you all escape the city? Surely, he didn’t want you to leave in the first place.”
The moment of silence that followed told Cade he’d touched upon a sensitive subject. He sighed, hoping he hadn’t ruined the mood entirely, but he was learning more and more of the politics in the world, and he wasn’t liking the picture it painted. Cade needed to know the truth.
Minda returned from behind him, touching his cheek with her hand. “It is a sad story, but only if you forget that all of us have survived. We too once lived in the city. But a few months ago, Vormer came through the portal, and with him, he brought many changes. This is an old world, or so our demons told us, and it once was home to thousands. When I came through the portal a year ago, there were hundreds.
“But Vormer changed it all. For some reason, he came through at a higher level, and he spoke of his Burning God. None of us have seen this deity with our eyes, but Vormer showed us his power. A few of us who were gifted in war attempted to overthrow him. But his guards, those who chose to give themselves over to his master, rose against us. The faceless ones hide behind masks and move like dolls pulled along by his string.
“So after a pitched battle, we fled, taking all of those who were strong enough of will and body to come. It was during that retreat that so many of us lost our soul weapons.”
Her story came to an end, and Cade saw the fire of anger in the eyes of those around him. One man spoke in a voice that trembled with rage, “I had a javelin that could fell a boar from two hundred strides. It was knocked from my grip by a guard, and I nearly died trying to retrieve it. We would not have forsaken such gifts willingly.”
Imenda came forward and spoke once more, putting an end to the discussion. “And what is worse is that some suspect Vormer to be tampering with the portal itself. It runs on a magic so ancient and potent none of us know how it functions. You are the first to come to Antinium since the battle, but once there used to be a few each day. So yes, Cade, we have much to fear. But we have much to celebrate as well. Enough of this talk for the evening. We have reasons to be joyful in plenty.”
Then the old woman chugged a good portion of the wine herself and stunned them all with an elegant burp. This lady is like my mom. I’ll bet she’d smoke pot with me in a heartbeat, Cade thought with a grin.
A few of the villagers began to dance, spurred on by their elder’s spirit. Satemi pulled out one of her swords and inspected the edge of its blade, her face filled with emotion. Cade could understand; the vortex of pain and nostalgia they’d both been subjected to was harsh. No amount of good food and cheap wine could erase it entirely.
He was considering joining her again, perhaps speaking further about the village she once protected when a hand fell on his shoulder. “Excuse me, but I for one am ready for something more entertaining than dancing. Come with me, Cade,” Minda said, then walked away, her ass swishing with each step.
The woman wore a plain cotton shirt and leather skirt. But she wore only a pair of canvas shorts below. Their frayed edges told him they’d once been pants, but the legs had been cut away. It was fortunate they had been, for Cade saw the supple union between ass and thighs glowing in the light of the fire. He felt his heart begin to race.
She stopped, turning to grin at his admiration. Then continued onward. He stood and followed. What else am I supposed to do? She obviously isn’t a Terran, but she’s humanoid enough for any red-blooded American. Cade chuckled at his ridiculous thought and ducked into the hide tent.
It was dark, and at first, he blinked around, trying to see what he could. “Is there a candle or a torch we can light?” he asked, nerves getting the better of him.
“No need, Cade. Your eyes will adjust, and the light from the campfire will be enough.”
“Okay,” he answered, surprised at the flutter of nerves and excitement that filled his chest. It had been years since he’d felt this rush. “So, Minda, how long have you known Satemi?”
She giggled softly. “You come into a tent with me and ask of my friend? This is a bad sign, Cade.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. Believe me, I am thrilled to be here with you. She made an impression on me tonight though. The test was something I’ll never forget.”
“I don’t think it is supposed to be forgotten. I’ve known Satemi since I left the city. She is broken, but as she has already begun to heal herself, I can see there are few who can match her strength of will,” Minda
said. “She is a true friend.”
Cade’s mind flitted between the woman whose breath and perfume he could hear and smell so close to him, and the odd shift in his circumstances. “Why do you think we were chosen to come here? I happened to help someone, or tried to, just before I died. But I despised myself before I came here.”
Minda hummed thoughtfully. “Too much of the jungle wine for you I think. You are lucky none of the villagers found anything with more kick. I don’t know why we are here, Cade. Though I will admit the question has kept me up more than a few nights.”
Then he saw the silhouette of the woman as she removed her skirt, then her shirt and shorts. Minda was naked though he couldn’t see a thing yet but for the glowing white of her skin. He fussed with his buckle a moment until she growled faintly, then shoved him down on a pile of furs.
“Slow, Cade. Too slow for my taste. You were brave in accepting Satemi’s challenge, and you were honest with those I care about. These things have stirred a desire within me.” She pulled off his belt and threw it against the tent wall. He laughed as she took off his pants next, then gestured impatiently with her hands for him to do the same with his shirt.
“Wait, don’t you want to talk awhile longer? Maybe get to know the man you’re about to fuck?” Cade asked while trying to suppress a laugh.
He could see her face now, a dark-orange glow suffusing the tent enough for him to make out as much as he desired to see. She was laughing too, soft and quiet, sharing everything with him in the moment. She gestured to his cock, as hard as diamond and twice as precious. “It seems you are ready enough. I think we will come to learn more about each other while we play than sitting here and talking. Don’t you?”