by Zen DiPietro
After saying his goodbyes, Arc retired to his own room. He would have preferred to talk more with his new colleagues, but they’d gone to their rooms to rest. Arc supposed he should enjoy the quiet while he had the chance. There was no telling what the days ahead would bring.
Chapter 3
The monorail system made it possible to travel just about anywhere within the mid-lats in fewer than five hours. Travel to Sub-Apex was a completely different matter. Because of its poor conditions and lack of features, most people spent their entire lives without ever visiting Sub-Apex. Other than mining activities, there was just no reason to go there.
After an early lunch, the newly-minted team of five boarded a monorail for a brief hop across a major rail line to a hub station. After a three-hour ride over a minor route, they disembarked for an hour-long layover. A half-hour ride delivered them at a significantly smaller, less metropolitan station for a two-hour layover. Finally they boarded their final monorail of the day. Izzy slouched in her seat as she rode, willing their arrival at the day’s final destination. Though they were all hardy individuals, the extended travel time was unusual, and she knew she was not the only one who’d grown tired of it.
Throughout the journey, Izzy had used the time to observe her companions. At times, she assessed blatantly, and at others, she employed discretion.
Because of her innate perception, she’d always known her future profession. In college, she studied psychology, sociology, and criminology. Pretty much any people-oriented discipline that ended in –ology, really. Her academic pursuits augmented her inborn gifts in a way that had made her the premier reader in Terath. She didn’t mind the distinction one bit.
She frequently assisted with business negotiations and marriage contracts, to make sure her client wasn’t being cheated. She also counseled people to help them through personal difficulties. Izzy had far more opportunities for work than she had time, so she had the great luxuries of selectivity and the ability to dictate her own pay rate.
After assessing the other four people Magistrate Trewe had sent on this mission, she’d decided that their team was as well-equipped to investigate the disappearance of Sorrow as any group could be. She looked forward to the opportunity to become acquainted with Luc, whom she knew of by reputation as a first-rate manahi. Arc showed promise as a companion, and she already liked Will. As for the justice . . . well, the justice would no doubt be a tremendous asset.
Finally, the monorail glided to a smooth stop, and they disembarked at the only monorail station in all of Sub-Apex.
“Wow.” She surveyed their destination as she stepped out of the car and onto the station’s single platform. “This is the tiniest station I’ve ever seen.”
Her opinion didn’t change when they’d gathered their belongings and entered the station’s main corridor. Or rather, its only corridor. Its only room, even. Instead of a sprawling emporium that housed the expected variety of wares and services, this station was uninhabited to the point of abandonment. Clearly, it did not receive enough travelers to make a comprehensive collection of offerings worthwhile. Judging by the lack of activity, there was also a marked lack of people native to the area. Not surprising, since they’d just moments ago passed beyond the northern reaches of the mid-lats and into Sub-Apex. So far, they’d only watched the change in scenery from within the heated, comfortable monorail car. But they’d arrived at the end of the line, and from here, would have to forge their own path via rented carts.
“If you have any messages to send, now’s the time,” the lone station agent told them as he gave them the keys to the carts Luc had chartered ahead of time. “Past this point, there’s no comm line. There aren’t any satellites this far north and we barely even get a connection here at the station. Your hand comms will work at short range with one another if you network them, but you’ll have no connection to the comm itself once you take a few steps north. You’ll be left only with communication with each other and whatever information you have pre-loaded on your hand comms.”
He slapped his hand down on the counter and squinted at them. “Don’t know your reason for heading out there, but whatever it is, it’s probably a bad idea.” Having offered his best information, he turned away from the counter and disappeared through a doorway to do whatever he did to while away the hours at a little-used monorail station.
Izzy suspected the station agent made the same speech to all comers. She wondered what prompted the man to take this particular assignment. For his sake, Izzy hoped it was only a rotating position. It made her sad to think of someone perpetually in charge of such a derelict station in this inhospitable place.
The group of five said little as they donned coats and gloves and gathered their items to load them into the heavy carts. Their movements created ripples of sound that eroded the chilly quiet of the terminal. If you could call it a terminal.
Izzy ran her hands down the coat Luc had given her. She wasn’t sure what she thought of the novelty of being all bundled up. She felt like the filling inside a roll-up sandwich.
Once outside, beneath the dreary gray sky, Izzy slid behind the wheel of one heavy cart ahead of any discussion about seating arrangements. She’d ridden in one the time she’d come to Sub-Apex, so she was familiar with its big tires, heavy-duty frame, and transparent wrap that formed a roof and windows. The carts weren’t cramped, but they weren’t as roomy as a monorail car, either. And her backside remembered the experience of riding across the rutted terrain of Sub-Apex. She knew they were in for a rough, boring ride, as the cold, barren landscape offered nothing but gray skies and craggy, barren land.
She waited while the justice settled into the backseat of her cart and Arc settled into the front passenger seat beside her. Luc slid behind the wheel of the second cart, while Will seated himself next to Luc rather than occupy the last seat in her own cart. Perhaps he meant to provide Luc with some company, but she suspected it wasn’t the only reason. She laughed to herself, then laughed again when she sensed Arc’s curiosity about her outburst.
Izzy Gin was proving to be an interesting colleague. Arc felt sure she would add some spice to the group, along with her professional expertise. He appreciated her ability to laugh after a long day of travel. Although they hadn’t even begun rattling northward over the rough ground in the heavy-duty carts, the light had already begun to fade from the sky, which meant they had little time to make it to the inn that Luc had earmarked for them. If they didn’t hurry, they’d have to drive across the jagged troughs and peaks of the barren ground with only the headlights to guide them, which would not be good.
Arc didn’t want to question Luc’s planning, but he noted the absence of some standard gear.
“I didn’t notice any additional power cells for the carts among the gear,” Arc called over to Luc, in the other cart. He was glad that lightweight enclosure on these carts did nothing to hinder them from talking to one another. “There won’t be many places to find replenished ones up here, and we’d surely have to pay dearly for them.”
Luc glanced over with a raised eyebrow. After a moment, realization struck Arc. He shook his head and chuckled. “Of course. I’m not accustomed to traveling with manahi.”
The benefits of doing so might prove to be pretty great. As much as he liked to rough it, in these particular circumstances, Arc preferred to have all the advantages they could muster.
“Here we go, then!” Izzy Gin pressed the accelerator. After a minute of jockeying alongside Luc’s cart, she fell in behind him, as he was more familiar with their route and destination. He’d planned for them to overnight in a small mining village a couple hours north of the station. From there, they’d continue forging northward.
“So, Arc,” Izzy Gin chirped, as though continuing a previously-started conversation. “Have you worked with a shiv before?”
He turned his head slightly and
saw the person in question shift a bit to observe him. The movement seemed to say, “Yeah, have you?” Arc grinned at Izzy Gin’s attempt to discomfit him by putting him on the spot. She’d soon learn that he was not nearly so easy to embarrass.
“No. I spend most of my time either leading people out into the hinterlands or enjoying the comforts of home. I rarely run afoul of the law.”
Izzy Gin laughed. “It’s good to know we’re not in the company of a known criminal. Things could get awkward, with this one around.” She indicated the shiv with a sideways tilt of her head.
Arc chuckled at her irreverence. Though the shiv seemed unperturbed, people generally treated those of his profession with awe and deep respect. Maybe some fear. The shiv order was more than a career. It was closer to a holy order. When shivs dedicated themselves, they chose to forsake personal gains and goals in the service of justice. Training took many grueling years and included not only instruction in ethics, logic, arbitration, and wisdom, but also the deadly arts. The life was rigid with structure and sustained by dedication. Few people had the wherewithal to answer that call. As a result, members of the order ascended to a level of almost sacredness. They alone could be judge, punisher, and executioner on Terath. Shivs were the law of the land and incorruptible, impartial, and utterly lethal.
“I’m glad we’re all upstanding citizens, then.” Arc noticed Izzy Gin’s gaze shift from the ground ahead of her to the other cart that drove slightly ahead and to the right of them. He wondered what had drawn her attention.
“It also helps that I have nothing to hide,” he added. “Or I might feel itchy about traveling with a reader.”
“Yup. Once they know I’m a reader, a surprising number of people find a good reason to go somewhere else. Fast.” Her wry smile revealed this was not a bad thing in her book.
“Do shivs figure heavily in your own life?”
Arc twisted around for a better look at the shiv, who continued to listen in silence. At least, Arc assumed he was listening. There was little else to do as they bounced along.
“Yes. Not because I make a habit of getting into trouble, though. A reader and a shiv make an excellent team and can do a lot of good together.”
“You and the justice here have worked together before?”
“We have, on numerous occasions.” She fell silent. Arc wondered what ruminations his question had inspired, but knew it wasn’t his place to ask. He hoped that as he got to know the reader better, she’d fill him in on her inner workings.
Arc followed Izzy Gin’s example and used the time to consider the two people sharing the cart with him. They were familiar not only with each other but also with Aunt Ina. He tried to imagine the particular endeavors that inspired his aunt to hire such a pair. He wondered if his aunt had a more dangerous job than he’d thought.
Finding a place to park their carts was not difficult in the small town of Leheer, even as the last shreds of light slipped beneath the horizon. The little mining town was no bustling center of activity. Izzy Gin and Luc nudged their carts up against the side of the small inn where they were to stay. As they all grabbed the bags they’d need to take with them from the back of the carts, Arc took the opportunity to study their low toehold on Sub-Apex.
He’d only been to Sub-Apex a few times, but the towns all seemed to focus on function rather than aesthetics. Here, nature was a force to defy rather than celebrate. Instead of being cozied back into a hillock or wearing a gently curving roof to complement the sloping grade of the land, buildings stood stark and squat against the landscape. The color palette lacked anything outside the gray family. Confronted every day with gray skies and gray buildings, Arc had to wonder if the residents of Sub-Apex suffered from depression.
In spite of the dreary color, the town was not without character. The sturdiness spoke of stalwart determination. The bulk of the buildings gave them a sense of respectable fortitude. Arc found a certain dignity in the unpretentious strength of the town.
Beside him, Will shrugged on his backpack and eyed the perpetually shadowed grayness. “I’m afraid I find Sub-Apex a bit creepy.”
Izzy Gin paused in mid-reach and tilted her head to one side as she studied Will, and then the landscape. “I agree this place feels like a bummer. Environment can have a big psychological effect. If you’re aware of it, though, you can keep it from affecting you.” Her attention shifted to the shiv. “The shiv has a different opinion.”
The shiv pulled a hand comm from his belt, tapped a message into it, and handed it to Will. The blade accepted the device, then read aloud, “Unfamiliarity should not be a cause for contempt.”
Will frowned. “I didn’t mean it as an insult, just my impression. I apologize if I offended.” He handed the comm unit back to the shiv.
“No worries, no offense,” Izzy Gin reassured him. “The justice was just making a point. He does that sometimes. Greater wisdom, and all that.”
Arc wondered if he heard a bit of an eye roll in Izzy Gin’s tone but couldn’t tell for sure. He didn’t know her well enough yet. Nonetheless, the exchange intrigued Arc. It was the first time he’d seen the justice interact directly with their group. It had also prompted Izzy Gin’s first professional advice to the group.
Luc, already familiar with Leheer, led the group into the local tavern. Apparently, it doubled as the local inn. Not a bad coincidence, in Arc’s opinion, and one that he’d seen before in Sub-Apex. The pub area looked like any small establishment you’d find in the mid-lats, once they got inside. A long bar dominated the long side of the room, with a dozen empty stools lined up beneath it. Mismatched tables and chairs filled the floor space, and a few half-drunken miners occupied some of those chairs.
In short order, Luc procured meals and accommodations. Arc was entertained to see Luc handing the barkeep-innkeeper physical credits, which were usually transferred electronically via the comm system. Arc couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a physical credit in person. Even when he’d visited Sub-Apex before, he’d been able to transfer payment before leaving the mid-lats. He felt as if he’d gone back in time a hundred years.
Arc’s body ached from the combination of long hours of inactivity and the rough cart ride in Sub-Apex. When plates of hot food came out of the kitchen after only a few minutes, he mentally heaped praises on the cook. Who was probably also the barkeep. And the innkeeper. And . . . also their server, he realized, when he got a better look at the person carrying the plates.
Judging by how quickly the other four ate, Arc suspected they were just as eager as he was to have a good wash and fall into bed. Luc leaned over the table and kept his voice low to ensure the privacy of whatever he was about to say. Not that the people here were likely to care. They’d progressed well past halfway drunk by now.
Luc said, “This town is one of only a few Sub-Apex border towns. Most people traveling into Sub-Apex stop at a border town on the way in and the way out. That means if someone has observed something odd, they’ve likely traveled through here, along with their observations. Even the smallest things are big news in these towns, and they have runners that travel from one to the next, trading supplies and sharing news. Talking to people here to see if the border towns have heard anything that might relate to our mission is our first step.”
They were all too tired to go into greater detail at the moment, so they simply agreed and devoted themselves to finishing their food. No one spoke again until the last of the food was gone. Arc had finished before the others and sat sipping an almost half-decent glass of wine. Its soothing effects had just begun to ease some of his aches. Which raised the wine’s profile to fully half-decent, in his opinion.
“There is the issue of rooms,” Luc observed after a deep draught of cold tea. “Since they don’t get a lot of visitors here, there are only three.”
Glances shot around the table as they co
nsidered combinations of possible bunkmates.
“Clearly, the shiv has a room to himself.” Arc felt sure of the others’ agreement. They nodded in assent, and the justice returned a nod of thanks.
“That leaves two rooms for three men and one woman.” Will studied his plate with unwarranted intensity.
Izzy Gin’s wide mouth bloomed into a grin. “That’s okay, I don’t mind rooming with you, Will. You can show me your sword.”
The blade choked on his last bite of bread. He tried to recover, even as spots of color brightened his cheeks. “I’m not sure that’s a good solution.”
“Oh, it’s okay, I’m not overly modest.”
Will’s color progressed from pink to red. “Perhaps I am, then.”
“Oh.” Izzy Gin drew the word out as though it had several syllables. “Gotcha. I suppose I should room with Luc, then.” She noticed Arc’s attention and sent him a wink. He lifted his glass to his mouth to cover a smile.
“Fine,” Luc continued. “Then there’s the matter of baths. All the rooms upstairs share one bathroom, and the only running water is in the tavern’s kitchen.”
This time all eyes darted to him, including Arc’s. No running water? He could deal with a sponge bath, but he’d been looking forward to a hot soak. He’d never stayed at an inn that didn’t offer running water. Judging from Izzy Gin’s expression, the news was a big disappointment to her.
Luc waved a dismissive hand at their dismayed expressions. “Sub-Apex towns don’t always have what they need. They improvise and prioritize. Water can be hauled up from the kitchen. However . . .” Luc paused to take another sip of his tea. “I can assist with the water situation. We needn’t work that hard for a bath after traveling all day.”