The Forest at the Edge of the World

by Mercer, Trish

  “I’m not missing anything, then.”

  Perrin chuckled.

  Jaytsy stirred at the low noise, and both of her parents held their breath. She stretched, grunted, and snuggled back into her father’s arms.

  Her parents exhaled.

  “It seemed to be so easy,” Mahrree murmured quietly. “Feed them, burp them, change them, put them to sleep.”

  “We had no idea what we were getting into, did we?” Perrin smiled. “I wonder if we’ll ever get the hang of it before she outgrows us. Bath time is entertaining, I’ll admit that.”

  “And you’ve become quite expert at changing cloths. I think you’re the only man in Edge who is.”

  “Just don’t let anyone know about that. Not very dignified for the commander of the fort at Edge to be known as a dirty cloth changer.”

  “Just remember it’s because you have a strong stomach, Captain Shin.”

  “And don’t you forget it!” He ran his finger along Jaytsy’s soft cheek. “She’s already getting bigger and fatter. That’s good, right?”

  “Baby fat is very good.”

  “As surprising as all of this has been, I must admit I’m enjoying it. She really is . . . quite . . .” He faltered to find the right word.

  “Say it. I dare you. The ‘c’ word. As your anniversary gift to me.”

  “All right—she’s cute.” He sighed in amused resignation. “There. Satisfied?”

  Mahrree cuddled into him. “Completely! Happy Anniversary, Mr. Shin.”

  “It always will be with you, Mrs. Shin.”

  ---

  Two moons later Jaytsy was five moons old and learning to sit, snatch food off of her parents’ plates, and laugh easily. And Mahrree and Perrin began to feel a bit of confidence in what they were doing.

  Until Mahrree awoke one morning in the second week of Harvest to a most unusual feeling. Not that it wasn’t familiar, just very unexpected. She wished Perrin still had the bucket under the bed, and when the feeling didn’t pass she made a quick trip to the washing room. Then she sat stunned on the small sofa, wondering if it was something she ate or . . .?

  No. It couldn’t be that. Absolutely not already.

  Now, the law was that each woman could birth only two children, in order to keep the population from overtaxing their resources. And Mahrree had heard that some thought it a good idea that if a couple wanted their full quota of babies, they should have the children close together . . .

  But this—this close?!

  By the end of the week Perrin had that same look in his eyes he had over a year before. As Mahrree flopped wearily back into bed from another early run to the washing room, he said, “So I was thinking the next addition should go on the other side of the house, up against the side fence. I have some ideas and I’d like to build this one by myself. I don’t know that Jaytsy would like to share a room when she’s a teenager.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Mahrree muttered. “I mean, it’s really quite miraculous. Something like this shouldn’t happen for quite a while considering . . .” Then the tears began to fall. “But Perrin, Jaytsy still isn’t sleeping through the night!” she wailed. “We’ll never sleep again!”

  “At least this time we’ll know what we’re doing. Sort of.” Perrin chuckled quietly and gave her a comforting kiss on the cheek. “Last Holy Day I heard someone wonder if the Creator has a sense of humor. I think I now have an answer for him.”

  ---

  Two men sat in the dark office of an unlit building.

  “The information on the raid in Trades has been most intriguing. I appreciated the chart you made,” Mal said.

  “Thank you,” the second man nodded. “I was cutting up my wife’s pie, and had the idea that its shape would lend itself to representing the variety of responses. I never before appreciated her pies. After so many years you would think she could figure out how to make a decent one. This one was still undercooked, but at least I—”

  “So,” Mal said, cutting off his partner before he went into too much detail about his disappointing dessert, “Edge has been very quiet for a few moons, hasn’t it?”

  “Well, I suppose you could say that,” the second man said. “At least the forest’s been quiet. Wait a minute. You haven’t heard the news?”

  “News? What news?” Mal squinted.

  “I thought that was the real reason for our meeting tonight, that you were going to twist this into verifying your speculation.”

  “What are you talking about?!” Mal demanded.

  His partner chuckled to prolong Mal’s irritation. “It seems our Captain Shin has been a very busy man. Truly, Relf didn’t tell you?”

  Mal nearly had smoke coming out of his ears.

  “They kept it quiet for a time, the shock of it all, but . . .” The second man leaned closer to him. “The captain’s going to be a father again. By the end of next Planting Season, most likely.”

  “No!” Mal exclaimed.

  His companion grinned. “Yes.”

  “He’s taken a mistress?”

  “No!” the middle-aged man laughed. “His wife’s expecting again!”

  “That will be two in just over a year’s time!” Mal said in disbelief. “Is that . . . is that typical, Doctor?”

  The doctor shook his head. “No, but not unheard of. You see, in some cases, the female can still—”

  “Ha!” Mal cut him off in sudden realization—and also because the anatomy of women was never anything he was ever interested in. “It IS my speculation! He’s so dissatisfied with the girl that he’s desperately trying for a boy! There!”

  The second man shrugged. “Oh, I don’t think so. From the bits of evidence we’ve gathered, Shin seems to enjoy his daughter. You heard the High General—Perrin even carried his daughter up to the fort to visit her grandfather when he was there for a brief inspection. I watched Relf when he recounted that story. Speaking as a doctor, I believe I saw a spark of approval in his eyes.”

  Mal scoffed at that. “There were women in the room, too. Relf was merely trying to play the proud grandfather role, to show he has a family side to him. That’s all.”

  “That’s all you choose to see,” his partner said reprovingly. “Nicko, consider that you may be losing your objectivity—”

  “Not that again. You know how tiresome you sound? ‘Nicko, you’re not objective!’” Mal whined.

  “You know how childish you sound?”

  “I’m sixty-seven years old!” Mal snapped.

  “Age has nothing to do with childishness,” the second man leaned forward in his chair. “Nicko, you’re a brilliant man with a fantastic mind. Your ability to analyze is unsurpassed. But for some reason, whenever the discussion comes around to Perrin Shin or Relf, you become completely irrational. I see a bead of sweat on your forehead. How’s your heart?”

  “Fine!” Mal bristled and clenched his fists.

  The doctor reached over to him. “Let me feel your pulse.”

  “NO! It’s slightly elevated again, true, but that’s only because I’m angry. A natural reaction!”

  His partner leaned back. “So, you plan to die before you see the conclusion of this extraordinary study of yours? Because that’s what your fury is going to do to you: stop that heart before your mind is ready to quit.”

  Mal took a few deep breaths. “See? Better already.”

  “Oh, yes,” the doctor nodded cynically. “I see the tranquility in your eyes. Nicko, you’re not fooling me. Tell me, why do you let him get to you? How can you be so analytically objective in everything else, but not when it comes to the Shins?”

  “I don’t know!” Mal hissed. “Do I need a reason? You think running the world is easy? You oversee only one twenty-second of it. I oversee it all! Every soldier and citizen is under my watch, and I’m doing an exceptional job! If I choose to vent my irritations and rage on one family, who isn’t even around to feel it, how is that such a problem?! Objective?! No one is objective, my friend! Irratio
nal? Every person in the world has their moments of irrationality. Look on that shelf—I’ve documented thousands of displays of irrationality. If I had enough time, I could find a moment of illogical thought and reasoning in every last person in the world. You’re the one who keeps telling me to take a walk every now and then. Do my heart some good to get the heart rate up. Well, it’s up now! How is this not as healthy as taking a walk, Doctor?!”

  His partner only blinked. “Are you about finished with your little tirade?”

  “We need a new plan for Shin.”

  “Wait a minute—I barely compiled the report on the raid in Trades. It will take seasons to go through all of the information. What do you mean, a new plan for Shin?”

  “I want him tested, now. Again.”

  His companion exhaled. “Still on your tirade.”

  “I’m about to prove to you that I’m a compassionate man, Doctor,” Mal said calmly. “I want Perrin Shin to have a son.”

  “Uh-huh,” his partner said. “And how are you going to ensure that?”

  “Eliminate his wife and daughter.”

  The doctor choked and coughed before regaining his voice. “What?!”

  “Consider, what if the second baby is another girl? He’s already had one, chances are overwhelming he’ll have a second. Then Shin’s chances at a son are over. What a waste. Even officers are allowed only two children. But,” Mal continued as easily as if he was musing over dinner choices, “as the law states, should his wife and children die, he can remarry and have up to two more children. Another two chances at a son. Now, what’s not compassionate about that?”

  It took the doctor several long, heavy moments to respond. “That’s . . . that’s . . . An expecting woman? That’s a little much, don’t you think? And a baby?”

  Mal eyed him. “Shin’s a test subject, remember? Consider the wealth of information we can gather from such an occurrence. How would someone as strong as Shin respond to the loss of his wife and daughter? What we learn could better the entire world in terms of recommendations coming out of the Office of Family on ways to handle grieving. Then again, if he doesn’t have any strong feelings for them, we will have done him a tremendous favor. In one way, we stand to gain a great deal, another way he gains a great deal. That’s what we call a gain-gain situation.”

  Had there been any more light in the room, Mal might have discerned the growing horror in his companion’s eyes. But perhaps that was why they always met in the dark.

  “Nicko, you can’t be serious. You can’t do this . . . not to them.”

  “Not to them?” Mal squinted. “Are you sure you’re not bonding to him, just a bit? I made that mistake once with a horse. When it died I actually felt some sorrow, and couldn’t fully appreciate the information its death provided me. It was almost not worth killing the beast for. Don’t fall into that trap, now.”

  The doctor held up his hands. “I’m not, I’m not. It’s just that . . . well, that wealth of information you mentioned—perhaps there’s more to this than we realize, a full range of possibilities we haven’t considered. Do you know how rare it is for a man, especially an officer, to have two children? And so close together? Nicko, we shouldn’t eliminate a potentially captivating research project.”

  Mal was unconvinced. “You realize I had others to choose from, but I thought you were the most intelligent and open-minded. There are others willing to take your place, you know.”

  His partner scoffed. “Who, Gadiman? The most paranoid creature to have ever skulked in the world? When we began this you said you wanted balance. Gadiman is as unbalanced and shifty as the land around Mt. Deceit! You replace me with him, you’ll both be discovered and overthrown in less than a year. There’s tragedy, and then there’s outrage. Keep this research to creating tragedy, and you can continue it for decades. But if it produces outrage, someone will start digging, and at the bottom of the pit they’ll find you!”

  Mal met his stony glare. “The return of the Guarders is tragic, my good doctor,” he said slowly. “If Shin wants to avoid tragedy, and wants his woman to birth another baby, he’s going to have to make sure of her safety himself. Shin’s a test subject. If you can’t handle that, I’m sure Gadiman can. What’s it going to be, Doctor Brisack?”

  Brisack swallowed hard. “Speculation—fatherhood has made Shin so fierce a bear that not even a dozen Guarders could bring him down.”

  “A dozen you say? Fine,” Mal smiled thinly. “A dozen for Captain Shin it is, then.”

  ---

  It wasn’t unusual to see the Administrator of Family Life out in the city of Idumea, not even this early as the sun was rising. Of all the administrators he was the least intimidating and most gregarious. He smiled at people as he passed and was known as The Good Doctor, be it for his effectiveness or his manner, no one was quite sure. But his eyes had that twinkle one hoped to see when they’re being told it was indeed a raging infection, but he just might have something new to treat it that didn’t involve cutting, sucking, or bleeding, so don’t worry, sit tight, and be sure not to touch anything on your way out.

  Ten years ago he joined the university working with other surgeons to experiment with sulfurs, resins, herbs, and anything else nature provided that might be medically beneficial. The university work was occasionally more time-consuming but certainly more predictable than panicked knocks on his door at all hours.

  Still, he was frequently stopped along the road to “take a quick look” at something. It never failed to amuse him how modesty vanished in public places when the most famous doctor in the world could be persuaded to examine a body part usually kept under wraps, even in one’s darkened bedroom.

  But The Good Doctor marched with single-mindedness this morning through the mansion district and on to the official messenger service several blocks away. Something like this shouldn’t go through the regular messenger service, because that mode of delivery would serve only to confuse, not enlighten.

  The fifty-five-year-old man, his gray-brown hair balding on top—and no, he wasn’t working on a cure for something as vain as that; besides, balding men are more virile, everyone knew that—didn’t notice the waves to get his attention, or the elderly man who held up a wrapped foot barely outside his peripheral vision. The Good Doctor stared only ahead of him, dodging citizens, carts, horses, and anything else that suddenly appeared in his shortened view.

  He only hoped he worded it correctly. It had to be subtle yet obvious, while vague yet telling. But writing complex details, cataloguing findings, choosing words for their specificity, not their ambiguity, was all he’d ever done before.

  Yet he couldn’t allow this. This was beyond research, running into senseless revenge. Revenge for a purpose, yes; he could see the reasoning for balancing the scales once they’d been brutally upset.

  But this? To call it research insulted science, and he wouldn’t stand for that. It was now a cruel game, and the main participant didn’t even know he was playing. He deserved a fighting chance.

  The Good Doctor was going to give him one.

  After all, it was the doctor who gave Wiles’ map of Edge to Mal, marked with the future Mrs. Shin’s home. He was merely evening the odds.

  ---

  Chairman Mal took a deep breath and sighed. “Yes, I actually do want to see him again,” he said to the page that stood at the door.

  “Told you!” said a voice full of heartless glee, and the lanky man barged through.

  The page backed up quickly, shutting the door behind him.

  “Well, Gadiman?” Mal asked calmly.

  “I had him followed all the way! Found the message, too!” His small eyes brightened as he licked his lips.

  “Where’s the message now, Gadiman?”

  “On its way. That’s what you wanted, right?”

  Mal nodded. “Yes. Were you careful?”

  “I’m always careful!” Gadiman bristled. “No one will be able to tell the seal was broken or the message read.”
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  “So what did it say?” Mal clasped his hands together.

  “He wrote, ‘Captain Shin, a dozen will be awaiting in the shadows to assist in the care of your wife and daughter.’”

  Mal pondered that while Gadiman puffed and bounced from one foot to another.

  “Don’t you get it? He told Shin! About the twelve men you’re going to send!”

  Mal nodded slowly. “I could tell that he couldn’t let this happen. He knows he can’t stop it, but thinks he can send a warning.”

  “So can I bring him in for questioning?!”

  “No! Of course not! What has he done wrong, as an administrator? Nothing. I can handle him—if there’s anything to handle. Shin may understand the warning, but he won’t know when, or how, or what. In fact, it will make him all the more edgy.” His smile sucked all the warmth out of the room. “Indeed, Brisack just made this more intriguing. How will a paranoid man behave if he knows that an attack is imminent, but doesn’t know when? Oh, how I wished I had eyes in Edge right now! Hmm. That’s not a bad idea, is it now?” he muttered to himself. “My own set of eyes in Edge . . .”

  Gadiman scowled at the Chairman, following only half of what he was saying. “Sir?”

  Mal looked up.

  “What should be done?! Shin will know!”

  Mal’s smile frosted the windows. “He’s been warned there are twelve. That’s why I already sent word that fourteen will be on this mission.”

  Chapter 22 ~ “Do I look like I’m about to do something stupid?”

  “And so that resolves the concerns about soldiers patrolling along the canal system, but we’re still having some complaints from farmers in the east. It seems that—” Captain Shin’s face began to contort.

  Karna started to smile and glanced over to the new staff sergeant and master sergeant who were sitting with him in the forward command office. The master sergeant glanced over at the sand clock on Shin’s bookshelf, nodded in admiration, and winked at the lieutenant.