by Ian Creasey
It was clear they were discussing what to do with her. She made her hands visible, away from her sides. There was little point to fighting. Little point to anything other than waiting for them to kill her or not.
Then they closed around her and started herding her east. She had never heard of the Furs taking prisoners. Then she realized why she might not have. Captives would not have returned to tell the story. Maybe she was about to become slave labor. Maybe they were planning on killing and eating her.
That was a horrible thought. She had once refused stew because she knew it contained their meat. The idea revolted her. It felt wrong to consume the flesh of something as intelligent as herself. But she knew they’d have no problem eating her.
They pushed her onto a narrow path that led through arching trees. She had always assumed the Furs lived in small groups, but there were at least twelve of them here. Was she being taken to a town? Did they have towns?
It seemed so. There was a wall around it, hidden with forest litter and vegetation but high enough to keep out wandering humans and deer. The gates were opened, and she was steered inside.
Clearly, this had been a human settlement. The houses were the old-fashioned clapboard style, but remarkably well-maintained. Not all of them seemed to be occupied. Apparently, they were leaving room for their population to grow.
Three Fur cubs ran past her. They stopped, stared, then went back to their game, which appeared to be a form of tag. Several other cubs joined them. How much like human children they seemed ... so playful, even innocent.
The Furs had set up a sort of public square ... she realized it might have always been there. Sitting in the center of it was a female, who seemed to hold some place of honor in the Fur community. Her coat had faded to pale grey, and when she lifted a hand to signal the others, her movements were awkward and slow. Jane guessed she was very old.
Furs gathered around and exchanged a few chittered words. Then the old one spoke in accented English.
“You travel the old road, human. Where are you going?”
“I’m looking for another human settlement.” The truth seemed to be the best policy.
“And why would you do that?”
“To find a mate.” That came out before she thought about it.
The hissing sound that came from the Furs was laughter, she was sure. Laughter at her and her stupid naiveté.
She braced herself for death once more, but once more it did not come. The old one was not laughing.
“Humans,” the elder mused. “What are we to do with you?”
Jane sensed the question was not referring only to her.
“We could try to live in peace, but is peace even possible? Your kind destroy our kind,” the old one said.
“Your kind destroy ours,” Jane answered.
The Furs who were listening hissed again. The old one eyed Jane solemnly.
“Why haven’t you killed me?”
“I have another use for you. I want you to go to the city.”
“That’s where I’m going.”
“Take a message to the leaders there. Tell them our people want peace. You must do this, human. If you don’t, you will be hiding for the rest of your life, and it might not be a long one.”
Jane nodded. “And if there are no humans in the city?”
“There are. We have seen them. You will return with their answer. I promise you will then be free to go your way.”
What was the value of a Fur’s promise? But Jane had no choice. “I agree.”
They let her go, escorting her to the road and all but forcibly placing her back on it. Jane suspected she would be followed a good distance.
For the next two days, she camped by night and walked by day, flanked by Furs barely hidden in the foliage. She kept to the crumbled road, feeling weirdly protected by the unseen beings around her. Clearly the Furs were invested in her safe delivery of the message.
The Furs wanted peace, but would they get it? Or would their message be used as a way for the humans to send an extermination team? Oddly, Jane did not want that to happen. It was, perhaps, an honor thing. After all, she had been spared.
The road became less broken toward the end of the second day. Jane saw a pile of recent manure, and wondered what had left it. She knew she was being shadowed, but was finding it hard to care. They had not caused her physical harm. She was just taking a message. A request for a truce and a meeting. Any Fur that approached a sizable human settlement would be driven off at best, killed at worst. Capturing a human and forcing her to take their message made sense.
When Jane came over the hill and caught her first glimpse of the city, she felt a sense of despair. Crumbling houses, falling down, had been overtaken by trees. If anyone still lived in them, they were in worse straits than the humans in the compound she had left. What self-respecting person would live in a house and let it fall down? Something that looked like a feral dog padded across the road ahead of her.
Why did the Furs want peace? She did not know how many of them there were, but they were the ones with the children, with the future. They were the new dominant species.
Perhaps they were tired of fighting. Perhaps at least this one elder hoped to work with the humans, not against them.
Jane knew the Furs would follow her until she was almost at the city. They had nothing but her word on delivery of the message. They would probably try again if they got nothing back. The next unwary human to wander the road ...
Jane entered the city and picked her way through the deserted ruins. She found a plastic doll, its head missing, and stared at it for a moment. That had belonged to some little girl. Girls had had dolls like that, before. Before her time and memory. Before the Furs, exploding in number, breeding in litters. Destroying what they could not use, which was almost everything.
Hoofbeats. Something larger than a deer. Four legs, long ears, not a horse. A well-dressed human rider.
“Ho!” she called.
The mule did not spook but gave her a disgusted look. The rider turned, his look only slightly less disgusted.
“Lost?”
“Looking for people.”
“You found us. Come on.”
Without dismounting, he pointed the mule back toward the inner part of the city. The Furs had been almost more polite. She followed the man through more ruins.
“What’s your name, girl?”
“Jane.”
The rider was what Tony wished he was: calm confidence and strength. A woman could be attracted to a man like this, but she wasn’t. Not yet, anyway.
“I’m Dennis. You’ve been out in the wilds?”
“I was in a settlement, but I left.”
“Why?”
She paused. “To get away from a disgusting man who wanted me to be his second wife.”
Silence. Complete except for the sound of the mule’s footfalls.
“I keep saying we should pull those people in, but maybe Edith is right and it’s best to keep some segregation.”
“How many people are in the city?”
“Not enough. Things are better further north, but not much.”
Did he mean there were still places where people had cars and radios? They had been so isolated. Anything could be happening in the world out there.
“I hear things are pretty bad out in the wilds. Perhaps you should all come in.”
Dennis dismounted from the mule, leading it on foot. Jane was glad he had climbed down, which placed him more on her level.
“We have some things here you likely do not,” he said.
“Better roads.”
“From the look of you, better food.”
Her stomach rumbled at the mention of the word. Better food alone might explain why no one had returned.
“What about the Furs?”
“They don’t come here. Too smart. They know they’re outnumbered and outgunned. I’m going to take you to somebody on the council. She’ll lay everything out for you.”<
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Jane nodded. That person could take her message.
They had come to a part of the city where things were not so run down. People walked the streets, going in and out of real houses.
“You said it was better further north.”
“Somewhat.”
“Why not go there, then?”
“That would be letting the furry bastards win.”
“What if they were willing to make peace?”
“You couldn’t trust them. Not now. Not ever.”
Jane nodded. “I doubt you could, but would it not be worth the experiment?”
“One day, we’ll find a way to kill every last one of them.”
Her heart did not so much sink as shudder. The matter-of-fact tone in the man’s voice made her cold.
She had seen their cubs play just like human children. It was as if she had been caught up in those children for a moment. Just long enough to realize they were not vermin. She would try to talk to the person in charge here, or to whomever on the council she was brought to.
That did not happen immediately. An older woman took charge of her and fed her some kind of soup. She did not ask what was in it, but it tasted like chicken. It was good, better than anything she had ever eaten.
Then they took her to a room. It was cleaner than what she was used to, in a house that had clearly been kept up, at least patched. It even had a bed – a wooden frame with a thin mattress.
Oddly, Jane found she could not sleep. Too unfamiliar, and the room too close around her. No way could she hear Furs sneaking in, no way she could ensure she was safe.
She spent half the night standing by a window that still held glass, feeling a little trapped, staring out into the darkness.
The next day she was taken to see the councilor.
“So how bad are things to the south?” Grey hair framed the woman’s face, with crow’s feet marking her dark, hard eyes. There was no softness about her that Jane could see.
“Pretty bad. Where I come from, we’re struggling. Not enough of us.”
“Perhaps your friends should come here.” The woman’s voice had a harshness to it.
“Perhaps they should, although I’m not sure you would want a couple of them.” There was something about the woman that set Jane on edge, but she would not wish Tony on these people or on anyone.
She had not decided to stay. Part of her wanted to, deeply. Here she would not go hungry. She could get used to this: to the house, the bed, the food. Yet at the same time, something didn’t feel right. She couldn’t put her finger it. Probably just the newness of the place.
“We can find a place for you,” the councilor was saying. “As long as you do your part and show respect, you will be welcome here.”
“All right, ma’am.” Jane paused. “There is something I need to tell you. The Furs to the south are asking for a peace treaty. They stopped me on my way here and asked me to bring you that message.”
The woman gazed at Jane for a moment, showing no particular reaction.
“They did not harm you?”
“I was more valuable to them in one piece, I suppose.”
Than in the cook pot ... she had no illusions about where those they did kill wound up. Nobody, human or Fur, could afford to waste protein. The only reason her people had not resorted to cannibalism was because it was not worth the health risks.
“Well. I will mention it to the council.”
The councilor signaled a girl about Jane’s age who was walking by. ”Samantha, would you be a guide for this young person, for as long as she chooses to stay?”
Samantha flickered a grin, then proceeded to show Jane around, taking her first to the old school gymnasium where most of the people ate. It was more efficient to eat communally. Jane had never seen so many people in one place. It was enough to tempt her to flee back into the woods.
In the afternoon, she was taken to see a doctor.
“Nothing wrong with you a few groceries won’t cure,” he pronounced. “But I’m going to give you something that might help. We have some herbs; we’re saving them for people who really need them. I’ll give you a packet.”
“Thanks.”
“Swallow a pinch at a time, once a day.” He handed her some water. The powder tasted sharp, but she supposed it would do her good.
They wanted her to stay. She knew why. She was another set of hands and, ultimately, more babies. She was seeing lots of children in the heart of the city. No issues with breeding here. If she stayed, her own would join them one day. Somehow that did not feel like so bad a fate.
Samantha came up behind her. “They want you to go take a message back to the Furs. On the grounds that they let you through once. But only ...”
“I know. If I go back, I won’t be any use to them anymore. The Furs might kill me.”
Or they might decide to demonstrate good faith ...
“Maybe they really want peace,” Jane said.
“I find that hard to believe. They’re Furs. It’s dangerous.”
Jane thought a moment. “I’ll do it.”
She was not sure where the decision came from, other than the fact that she did indeed wish peace herself. Did anyone else?
“Assuming the message I’m to take back isn’t ‘screw you’.”
Samantha giggled. “It’s to arrange a meeting under flag of truce.”
Jane smiled. A meeting. Hope for a better future.
Samantha smiled back.
Two days later, Jane left the city heading south. She turned down a horse, knowing she could never control the beast, but accepted better clothes and road supplies.
No Furs seemed to be flanking her journey this time. Maybe they had grown tired of waiting for her, thinking she wasn’t returning with a message.
The road was quiet, peaceful. She remembered where the turnoff was and headed for it, walking briskly. The better time she made, the sooner this would be over, and the tension she felt would be gone. She feared one side or the other might break faith, that the coming meeting might become a battle.
The sound of racing hoof beats interrupted her thoughts. She stepped to one side of the road, turning to see what was coming, expecting a wild horse.
Instead, she saw a rider crouched low over his mount’s neck. Then the rider sat up. Not a him, after all. It was Samantha.
“What are you doing here?” Jane asked in surprise.
“I came the moment I found out.”
The other girl was out of breath, and her horse’s sides heaved from its run.
“What?”
“Those herbs they gave you. They weren’t herbs. They gave you an oral virus. Harmless to humans, but lethal to ...”
“... to Furs.”
Jane felt dizzy. She leaned against a tree. They had betrayed her. They had betrayed a request for peace.
“I’m thinking I was wrong,” said Samantha. “What if those Furs really do want peace? But all the humans see is an opportunity to kill them. To never have to worry about them again. It isn’t fair.”
Jane kicked a stone in frustration.
“What am I supposed to do? I can’t go forward, and I can’t go back.”
She would not be an instrument of death. Not even to the Furs. Their children floated before her eyes.
“Out here, sooner or later, I’m going to run into them, contaminate them ...”
“Only for three days, if they were telling the truth about that. Then you won’t be contagious. They were bragging about the virus, how they got it from the north, how soon there will be no more ‘damn raccoons.’“
Jane looked up at the other girl. “Those ‘damn raccoons’ are far better people than the humans on your council.”
And people, she realized, they were. Only a different species.
How did she fight the ones who would exterminate them? Somehow they’d find a way. It wasn’t right. The Furs sought peace.
“We have to do something,” said Jane.
“What ca
n we do?”
“You don’t have the virus. It’s not transmitted airborne between humans?”
“That’s right. Specifically designed not to be. I suppose they’re worried about it changing to something that might – .“
“Samantha, you can go to the Furs camp. Warn them to stay far away from the humans. I’ll wait for you here in the woods.”
“Then what?”
“Not sure yet. But we can go back to the city together. I doubt everyone there is on board with genocide. We’ll find a way to let the others know. We can stop this.”
Jane realized now there were two kinds of peace. One where only humans lived, and one where they and the Furs stood as equals. She was finally understanding which kind was better.
Hera’s Tempest
By Rob Jacobsen
His voice seems to resonate from everywhere. He has a god’s soul, he says. The wrath and the judgment. The Old Testament killer: pouring down pain on imperfection – each man a death-marked target, like Ananias.
He’s an ugly thing, this man in the machine. The concrete of the walls melds together with the iron of his metal encasement so all I can see of his flesh is his head and chest, both with grossly-sized wires and ribbed tubes plugged into them. His eyes are large, wild like a cornered animal, and his nose looks like it’s been broken more than once.
So I point my gun at him, half-machine/half-alive, and ask, “Who is she?”
“Who?”
I let one finger lift from its curled position around the rifle to point at the young woman chained to where his feet might be. She is naked, thin, frail. At one point she may have been beautiful, but that would have been before hopelessness hollowed out her eyes into vessels of desperation.
“Her.”
She uses the chains to pull herself into a proper sitting position and stares at me with a mixture of fear, curiosity, and pity.
You’d think he couldn’t speak – his jaw wrapped in a metallic shell and his lips fastened shut by thick staples – but I can hear his voice. It cracks like thunder: “You do not have the right to involve my love!”
Glancing around the large grey room, I see a bucket of water and some empty food packets next to the girl. Massive cylindrical shafts jut out of the machine and disappear into the roof and walls. Maybe they’re cooling ducts, maybe electrical tunnels. Maybe they go up to the planet’s surface or out into the facility.