Clutch

by JA Huss

  I wait for a few minutes to see if he'll come back and check to see if I'm making trouble, but I'm anxious to start my task and I spill out of the sleeping bag and sit up. He's put a bowl of 'nutrition' next to me, but I swat it away and the spoon goes reeling, clanking across the rock floor.

  I think I've figured out the secret to learning the avian language thanks to Tier's offhanded comment the day before. He said that the mere exposure to avian things triggers something inside me and creates a learning experience. Well, that's my interpretation of what he said anyway, and I'm basing my planned actions on it whether it's a hundred percent correct or not.

  I make my way over to the shelf that houses the tech devices. They are all on screen-lock today. It doesn't matter, I have no interest in them. I'm looking for history that I know must surely be here if this has been his home for the past two years. I figure I can multi-task as I snoop; learn the avian language and figure out what the real situation is regarding my past, present, and future without having it filtered through him first.

  There is nothing in any of the various stacks I sift through first that appears useful – only food, water, clothes, and medical supplies. This last bit stops me cold for a second and I wonder if I should check my missing fingers to see what they look like. My stomach protests at the thought and I skip the medical examination, I wouldn't want to undo all the avian bandages and try to figure out how to wrap it back up. Not when I already have the use of my left hand the way it is.

  I leave that bundle of stuff and make my way over to some more weathered crates and immediately hit the motherlode with a reading device. As a kid this was one of the few tech items I could have – books and reading were always encouraged. I'm not sure of the model, it doesn't look like anything I had, but it's human so I know it can't be that difficult. I try the switch but it does nothing. Maybe it's got a biometric lock? My reading tech never had biometrics, but I have a pad on my bedroom doorknob, so I search the cover looking for a place where a fingerprint might fit, or maybe a retinal scanner. Unless it is very well hidden, I don't see a security precaution.

  Maybe all it needs is a battery charge? I place it on the charge pad with all the other tech devices and continue my search as I wait.

  The next crate has astromaps in it. Lots and lots of astromaps. Some of them are of Earth, and some not. Places I've never seen or heard of before. One is a ship schematic.

  None of them are in English, and none of them have any markings that look remotely familiar. Not a circle around a planet or star, not a symbol, nothing. I put them aside as I continue my search, but after turning over several more crates, bundles, duffel bags, and backpacks I come to the conclusion that none of this shit is of any use to me. I don't know where he conducts all his business, but apparently it isn't here in this cave.

  The reading device beeps and snaps me back to attention.

  I retrieve it and then thumb the little pad that looks like it might be an on switch. It blinks to life.

  "Welcome, Iliana. It has been 407 days since your last access. Would you like to update now?"

  Hmmm. Would I? Why not? "Yeah, OK. Do the update."

  "Updating—" it says in a pleasant voice. "Update complete. Would you like to open the most recent delivery?"

  I'm really snooping now, but fuck it. "Sure." I watch the screen as the sphere is accessed and have a brief moment of panic. Fuck, what if they can track this device? I am about to turn it off when I see the lock icon in the upper left corner that flashes the word secure.

  A letter written in the avian language opens.

  "Translating—" the pleasant voice says once again.

  That was easy.

  "Would you like me to read the document, Iliana?"

  I laugh. "Please do!"

  "Date October 1, 2151 — all communications from this device will cease. End of message."

  Well that sucks. "Are there any old messages?"

  "All messages have been erased, Iliana. Would you like to see your bookshelf?"

  "Yeah, sure." A table of contents flashes but it's all in avian. "Why is it in avian?"

  Silence from the device.

  "Can you translate this?"

  "This is a graphical image and cannot be translated on the screen. Would you like me to read it to you in English?"

  "Yeah, do that."

  "The Seven Siblings: Excerpts from Avian Mythology — Part One…" The device highlights the images as it speaks and this allows me to follow along.

  "Seven siblings of the aftermath

  Seven wandering spirits are they

  Seven siblings created by death

  Seven spirits of universal sway

  Six avian children of light

  All are guilty of the fall

  The seventh castaway in flight

  Mixing blood perpetual

  Making monsters that transcend

  Until the seventh brings the end."

  The device goes silent.

  "That's it? That's the whole myth?"

  "The selection is titled Excerpts, Iliana. It is not the complete myth."

  "Oh. Well, what's it mean?"

  "In avian mythology the Seven Siblings are punished for creating discord among the higher species of Earth. They are cast out to create genetic instability, thus shifting the gene pool towards mutation. When their punishment is over they will come back to Earth and be reborn so that the Seventh Sibling can choose which of the higher species will live."

  "Will live? Why can't both of them live?"

  "The prophecy says the Seventh is a mixture of both species and must choose. And the avian will be destroyed."

  "That sucks. Why would they even bother reading this stupid story?"

  The device doesn't have an answer for that. It must not be sentient.

  I look over the myth again and find I can read some of it myself. I repeat this several times and then fish Tier's letter out of my pants and unfold it slowly. To my surprise my heart is thumping with the thought of knowing what he wrote.

  It doesn't make sense at first, at least not all of it. But my mind knows. It's weird.

  Is this what it's like to have programmed learning?

  I shake my head. Stupid father. I never got to learn shit this quick, I had to study like an idiot.

  I focus back to the letter and my brow bunches up in frustration as I put the words together. But it's not anything I want to hear. I turn back to the myth and the acid in my stomach makes me nauseas as I take in my new information.

  What do I really know about this avian, anyway? Beyond the fact that he has no aversion to murder? Nothing. That's what. I know nothing about him. My entire body is suddenly hot. Why didn't I leave last night?

  Jasus, Junco! You fell for the oldest fucking trick in existence. A man!

  "No, fuck – calm down. I don't fall for anyone, let alone an alien."

  Shit, what the fuck am I doing here? Am I in some sort of trance? Are all those healing chemicals screwing with me?

  "Goddamn it – there's no problem here. I'm on top of it."

  I get up and pace the floor, wondering if I should chance it in the tunnel and leave now before he comes back. I give it some serious thought, but then I look down at my hand, at my missing fingers. They don't hurt, which is just more evidence that there are drug-like factors running through my bloodstream, dulling my senses. But even more powerful than that observation is the reality of the nightdogs. I physically shudder just thinking about them and I have real doubts that I can make that walk back outside knowing this is a breeding nest. There are a few iffy spots that would have me in a panic and I don't even have my knife. It was left back in the tunnel where we were attacked.

  I hear footsteps in the tunnel and know he's on his way back. So much for taking action, Junco. I pick up the reading device and the letter in my good hand and wait for the confrontation.

  He slips into the bright light of the cavern and walks quickly over to the tech devices and supplies t
o rummage around, paying no attention to me at all.

  So I wait.

  "Can I help ya, Junco?" he asks, but does not turn or stop looking through the supplies.

  "I–" I begin, but the words get lost before they come out of my mouth.

  Apparently finding what he is looking for, he turns, "Ya what?" His eyes dart down to my good hand and they lock there, briefly studying the reading tech and the letter, then lift upward to meet my own gaze. "Well?" he says walking briskly towards me, the top of his wings a little higher up behind his back that they usually are. "What's on yer mind?"

  I look down, switch the letter to my injured hand, and then hold each one up as he approaches me, but the words are still stuck. He looks at both, then finds my eyes once more. "Don't believe everything you read, eh?"

  My whole face squints up at him in annoyance. "What does that mean?" He ignores me and instead grabs my jacket and shirt and pulls so that they slip down to reveal the bare skin of my shoulder. "What are you doing?"

  When his eyes find mine, I step back a little in fear. He grabs my shoulder tightly and pulls me toward him, so close that when I tip my face up to question him, his mouth is only a few inches away. "What the hell are you doing, Tier?"

  His eyes glow briefly and I am transfixed for the second it takes for him to extend his razors, slash open my upper arm, and tear into my skin. The hot blood begins to seep out before I can even understand what's happening, and by then he's already plucked out a small flexible mesh of metal. He shakes me – hard. "What is this, Junco?"

  I twist and jerk until I rip myself free from his grip and my anger grows as the blood travels along the length of my arm and drips slowly out of my jacket sleeve and onto the floor. "My health tracker, you asshole!"

  "A health tracker? You do realize what Republic ya live in, correct? Ya remember, the one that shuns technology?"

  "We don't shun technology, you idiot! We use it when it's necessary, and when a baby is sick and requires monitoring, we monitor them. I was very sick as a child so I have a health tracker, so fucking what?"

  He flicks the small piece of tech across the room, grabs me by the arm, and pulls my shirt and jacket down once more. "Get off me." I wiggle and push him back. His grip is firm and I hear my shirt rip as he forces it down to reveal my torn skin. Then he slaps a membrane over the wound and releases me with a little push.

  "We're leaving right now. If there is something ya want to take with ya," he says, eyeing the letter and the reading tech, "get it now."

  He turns back to his supplies and continues to pull things out of storage and shove them in the sack.

  "No," I say weakly from my motionless position in the center of the room.

  He turns. "No, what?"

  "I'm not going with you, Tier. Whatever's coming down that tunnel that's got you freaked out, I'm not going."

  He turns back to his task and ignores me.

  "I'm not going, Tier. I mean it. I want to go home now."

  I watch him finish packing the small sack and seal it up. And then he walks calmly toward me and the anger in his eyes escapes as light. "Yer coming, OK. I'm not asking ya. I'm telling ya."

  He grabs me by the jacket once again and pulls me with him towards the tunnel I've yet to travel through. I drop my letter and reading tech as I pull away. He lets go and trains his eyes on mine. "That health tracker, Junco? It was tracking something all right, but not yer health. It was tracking you. All these years. Everything ya did. Every. Single. Thing. And ya know what we call that, in the avian world, Junco?"

  I shake my head, still locking eyes with his.

  "Spying. Now, let me explain to ya exactly why we're leaving, and I do mean we. Yer precious government, who by the way, has never used this tracking on any other member of the RR, sick or not, is in collusion with the Mountain Republic and every other god-forsaken pseudo-government on this continent."

  My heart skips a beat, then balances out with a series of short staccato thumps that force me to take a deep breath to calm myself.

  "They were coming for ya, Junco, and only yer little impulsive flicker of teenage rebellion, and my timely appearance, has saved ya from a life of poking and prodding so they can figure out just exactly how to use ya to further their agenda."

  I bring my hands up to my head and close my eyes. "Tier, I don't know what you're fucking talking–"

  "And another thing, that filthy little mouth ya have is really starting to piss me off."

  The last few words come out as a growl and I slink back a micro-step before pushing it down.

  "Ya seem to think your Republic is just and good, that ya rural people are somehow better than the rest of them, more moral with all yer rules and traditions, a little higher, a little mightier. But yer vile mouth is all the proof I need that yer just another pathetic human pretender who follows the rules when it suits ya, and disregards them when it doesn't. Have a little self-respect, Junco. If ya believe in the founding principles of the RR, at least have the self-respect to follow the rules yer parents taught ya!"

  I pick up the letter and shove it into his chest and let it go. "You'd know all about following rules, wouldn't you?"

  He glares down at me. "Don't even pretend like ya know me, Junco." His eyes are not kidding and his face screams back off. "You have no idea who I am beyond being a soldier, a soldier who is trying to do the right thing. So, don't look at me like I'm something I'm not."

  My anger bleeds out of me. "So what I think is the right thing doesn't matter? You're just allowed to come in here and totally fuck up my life?"

  "Jasus Christ, Junco. Ya fucked yer life up plenty good without my help. Get a grip, will ya! It's over!" He reaches out and thunks a finger against my head. "Think!"

  What's over? I drop my guard for a moment and turn when I hear noise coming from the tunnel.

  "They're here now, and we're leaving." He grabs the letter and the reading device and quickly stashes them inside the small pack and reseals it. Then he takes my hand and pulls me with him into the hazy light of the tunnel.

  And we flee.

  Chapter Thirteen

  My thoughts of standing my ground disappear with the light and the only thing on my mind now is the darkness. And the nightdogs.

  I flick my missing fingers absently as we move, and I realize, even after everything that's happened over the past few days, I'm more terrified of those animals than I am of anything else right now. Every step into the black we take makes my panic grow and I know that it will overtake me soon. I will be helpless.

  In my mind I hear the snapping of my flesh and feel the cool air as the vicious animal rips off pieces of my body. I hear whimpering and it takes me a minute to realize that I'm actually crying.

  Tier stops abruptly and I think it is because the dogs are up ahead. A sob escapes my mouth and the tears stream down my face. He jerks my arm and his angry whisper briefly snaps me out of it. "Shut up, Junco!"

  I do. I hold it in and wait for him to pull me along again. I can hear more noise behind us now. The soldiers have found our cavern. They will follow, probably send a team into each of the two possible escape routes, and they'll use lanterns of course. The jerky light attracts the nightdogs and will bring them out in force.

  This makes me hyperventilate, and Tier stops again. "What the hell is the matter with ya?"

  "The dogs, Tier! They're gonna use lights to find us and the dogs will come!"

  He pressed his hand over my mouth to stop the words, but his glowing eyes soften as they search my face in the dark. "I know where the dogs are, don't worry. They're not here, OK?" I just look at his eyes, but say nothing as I try to decide if this makes it better.

  He removes his hand. "OK?" he asks again. I nod, and he must be able to see me because he turns and begins to pull again.

  We don't travel on the main tunnel, but take a series of side passages and when I realize I would never be able to find my own way out if something happened to Tier, the panic sets in again.
He catches it before I get out of hand, and pulls me close and whispers, "Yer OK."

  Our pace slows after that and I don't hear any more noises from behind. Unless they have this place mapped somehow, I don't see how they will ever find us. It feels like we've been wandering forever, twisting through small passages and crawling through low tunnels until I am helplessly turned around – I don't even know which way is up. "We're lost." The words come out before I realize I'm talking and Tier stops.

  "We're not lost, Junco. Just relax, will ya?"

  We begin a long descent and I slip and fall so many times my hands begin to bleed from reaching out in the dark, only to find the things I'm clasping onto are sharper than the rocks below my feet. We finally end up in a place where I can hear water dripping close by.

  Tier cracks a lightstick and the room is immediately illuminated with the glowing green light that reminds me of his eyes.

  I search the cavern frantically, looking for any signs of the nightdogs. He catches my panic and pulls me into his wings. "It's OK. No dogs, all right?"

  I nod as I press my face into his coat, but I don't trust myself to say anything. I stay there. And he lets me.

  "What did ya think of the myth you read?" he asks out of nowhere.

  "The Seven Siblings? How did you know I read—"

  "You updated the reader, Junco. I get updates too."

  "Oh. Is it fake or is it true?"

  I feel a shrug. "It's a myth."

  "Is it a common myth," I ask, "with the avian?"

  "A bedtime story," he replies, "recited to every young clutch many times as they grow."

  "Is that how you raise your young? In a clutch?"

  He doesn't answer right away, and I'm just about ready to think he's gonna dodge the question when he takes a breath and begins. "It's complicated, really. We don't come from eggs, maybe you didn't know that, but we're not birds. And we don't have our young naturally, because we're–"