Dusk Mountain Blues

by Deston Munden

  He should be angry.

  All he felt was relief.

  “Ina…?”

  ​“You’re lucky that I was in the area and couldn’t watch you kill yourself, you moron.”

  It was her. Appetite gawked, blinking, expecting her to disappear. She didn’t. She stayed.

  “Are you gonna stop staring or what?” Her voice was smooth, soft, low. “What were you thinking trying to fight a mutant killer model alone?”

  ​“Is that all you’re gonna do after not seeing me for years? Nag?”

  ​“I think I deserve it right after saving your life, you big idiot.” She punched him in the shoulder and Appetite yelped. “Sorry,” she said hastily. Whether that was for the punch or going incognito for fifteen years, he didn’t know. “I’ll explain after all this is done. Can you stand? We got things to do.”

  ​He, in fact, couldn’t stand. Quite the opposite - he fell out before he even had the chance.

  ***

  Appetite awoke in a ship flying over the city under the dancing green lights of a healing station. He’d never been in one before. It tingled and stung a bit each time it swept over his body. Smaller yellow lights worked at small wounds, picking at him and stitching his skin back into place. He looked around, eyes darting from one side of the chrome surgical room to the other, feeling like a mouse in a lab experiment. The lurching and swaying of the small vessel helped little. The faint scent of antiseptics and blood danced on the surface of the air.

  He swallowed his fear. Old backwater boys often didn’t like spaceships, nevermind infirmaries filled with nasty-looking equipment. Putting them together made every hair on his body stand up in fear.

  ​“Don’t move.”

  ​Someone paced the paced the space around him, looking down over the city of C’dar from the window. The small ship only had a few rooms in it; the cockpit, the small infirmary, the mess room, and the sleeping quarters in the far back. The morning sunlight-colored core spun in its tall glass container, completing tasks throughout the ship, humming its familiar song.

  Appetite blinked. He recognized the ship Sundancer now that his mind had calmed down, but he still didn’t want to be here for numerous reasons; two were in the forefront.

  First off, his family was still down there. Appetite rose, heart pounding. He needed to get back, he had to.

  Hiss-clink. A needle shoved itself into his forearm and pumped green liquid into his body. Almost instantly, an odd calmness drifted through him, and he slumped in the bed.

  Dang drugs, he tried to mutter. His mouth wouldn’t allow him - it felt as though it was stuffed with cotton. Side effect from the medicine, more than likely, and he didn’t like it. He huddled in the bed, trying to stop the shakes.

  Ina smiled down at him. “Your family’s fine. The Bluecoats are splitting up, and the rest are still holed up in the old Viscount Industries CEO building you guys found. Once my people came, they began breaking off. It appears that my father and the Coats had an agreement to not get into each other’s business, but Ignace broke that when he launched his coup.”

  ​“What?”

  ​“My dad’s dead, Woody.”

  ​“What? How?”

  “Ignace killed him.”

  “For what?”

  “Not important.”

  ​“Hell if it ain’t! What ’bout Kindle? What’s going on?” More medicine. Appetite whimpered, shrinking into the comforts of his bed. His fatherly instincts roared in the back of his mind, stampeding through every thought. The sedative may have stopped his body from acting, but his mind raced through every potential outcome. He twitched and tapped in his bed. “Ina, what’s happening with our daughter? What’s going on?” He wanted to shout; his voice allowed only a painful creak. “What’s going on?” he whined one more time.

  This was all too much right now. He went to scratch where the needle pricked him and only scratched with air from his missing fingers. It didn’t help his mood much.

  ​“She’s fine - or at least, I think so.” She stared down at the city. “She went to save your dad from Major Steven Debenham. That’s the last time Ignace saw her.”

  ​“Ignace? He’s here?”

  ​“Yes.” Ina sighed. “It’s complicated, Woody. Ignace, though very much a horrible person, looked out for me when our father wouldn’t. I did the same for him after what I was forced to do to him in our childhood. He wanted to protect me from people like you.” She shook her head. “Nevermind that. The point is that Ignace caught wind of our father’s agreement with the Coats and their study of the Terracore on the planet. He never told him them where it was, so they naturally assumed the resident family of bandits and smugglers stole it and kept it. My dad never confirmed or denied that. In his typical fashion, he orchestrated events to get what he wanted - another heir to the Flame. Ignace put an end to it.”

  ​“It’s always ’bout that dang Flame.”

  ​“It was…” Ina whispered. “We weren’t family to him. We were totems, another thing meant to protect this planet…” She sighed. “I didn’t want to leave, Woody. I really didn’t.”

  ​“Why did you?”

  ​“If I didn’t, Cassie would’ve died. The Flame would’ve killed her. I couldn’t explain it to you then. My father didn’t...he watched me closely even across the galaxy. I never wanted to leave you. I wish I could’ve explained. I - ” Ina took a sharp breath. “I’m not blaming it all on him. There’s mistakes that I made all on my own and there are things I don’t expect you to forgive me for. I - ”

  ​“Stop.”

  ​“What?”

  ​“Stop. That. We’re gonna work on it. Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re here, is all.”

  Appetite knew it was the sedatives and medicine making him blow smoke out of his butt and act all stupid. He couldn’t stop it even if he tried. He sat up in his infirmary bed. The healing lights and surgical equipment reeled back and locked back into place beside him. He went to step out of the bed, ripping out his IV, but lost his footing; he crashed to the floor, taking an entire metal table of surgical tools with him.

  Against the clattering of metal against metal, Ina sighed with an annoyance he knew all too well. She helped him up, wrapping his tree-trunk of an arm around her small body. “I’m not letting you back down there. You’re gonna have to trust Cassie to handle this now.”

  “Is that how’ya slept at night without meeting your daughter?” Crap. He hadn’t meant to say that. Apparently he wasn’t as over it as he thought.

  She stared at him. In fifteen years, she hadn’t changed much. Her rich brown eyes, her round cheeks, the tumble of her long curly hair, all the same. What was new was the small lines underneath her eyes and the loss of the constant smile on her lips.

  “I didn’t mean--”

  “You did mean that...and I deserved that,” she said with no hesitation. “I know how you value family and I haven’t been there for her or you. No matter what...forces...kept us apart, that was inexcusable. I could’ve told you. I could’ve contacted her. But we can’t change that.” She helped him into a chair and put her hand in his. Despite everything, he felt warm in the face. “One thing that we can change is how we move forward. I don’t expect you or her to forgive me. I never have. I hope you can. I understand if you can’t. “

  Appetite held her small hand in his. She ran her fingers over the uneven stumps of his fingers. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to tell her that it was going to be okay. Was it though? Fifteen years of baggage didn’t disappear upon a reunion.

  Besides, there were other things happening. His people were fighting for their lives down there. His daughter was face to face with a ‘borg ready to kill her. Whatever was between them--whether pain, love, confusion, or hate--would have to wait.

  He went to stand up. Ina pushed him down.

  “Nope. How’s ’bout this? I’ll go down and check on your family. You stay here.”

  Ina turned and walked away from him
, plucking her axe and her gun from the small weapon rack by the door. “I can’t tell you everything, Woody. I’ve taken enough time as it is. There’s something I need to stop if I can. Ignace’s revenge on our father isn’t done yet. There’s one thing he wants to do, a nail in his coffin. Your daughter’s about to make a huge mistake.”

  Your. That simple word left a sour taste in his mouth.

  “Our. Our daughter. And what mistake is she ’bout to make? Make some sense, Ina.”

  “The Flame, the Shadow, and the Terracore are - it’s a close kept secret and - ” Her sentences came to a harsh, unnatural stop, as though she snapped it with her teeth. She cursed under her breath. “I can’t talk about it right now.” The very familiar shudder of frustration rose in her small body. “There are things I still can’t talk about. I’m gonna fix this, all of this, Woody. You, me, the family I made and never fixed. All of it.”

  ​“Can ya promise me one thing…” Appetite clutched the arms of the chair she’d plopped him in. “That you’ll come back. That no matter how hard it is, we’ll talk ’bout it. I can’t promise it’ll all be the same, but we gotta work at it. I, at least, deserve that.” Appetite bit his lip lower lip, tasting a bit of blood. It sounded stupid. Everything he said so far sounded stupid. He was that awkward kid asking her out again, except this time, they had a kid and a history between them. “I don’t know. Just...go. Just go and come back.”

  ​“I never wanted to leave the first time.”

  ​Ina grabbed the last thing she needed from the small rack beside the door - a long, dusty red cloak, burnt at the edges - and wrapped it around her body. She slammed the button, flinging the hatch open. A blast of cold air rushed through the room. The pressure popped his ears, giving the open door sirens full reign to terrorize him.

  She turned and smiled, the cloak fluttering around her body. She mouthed a few words, saluted with two fingers, and fell backwards out of the ship. Appetite watched her corkscrew to the surface, waiting until her silhouette grew too small for him to see whatever she did to stop her descent.

  “Show off,” he muttered, redjusting in his chair.

  He missed that about her. He missed a whole lotta things about her. Riding in her ship brought all those memories back. Could they get past this? Why did she come back? How? If what she said was true, what changed in the Flames? What was happening in the Viscount Building? Appetite groaned, throwing his head back into the soft headrest of the chair and glaring at the window.

  He rose and instantly gained the attention of the AI within the hard glass core.

  “Hello, Master Woodrow,” it said with its nervous young boy’s voice, “it’s a pleasure to see you again. By request of the Lady, I must not let you overwork yourself. I have been authorized to use force if necessary. I would like to not use force if at all possible. If that’s okay.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. Don’t plan on it.”

  “Good…” Kaulu’s voice stuttered for a second as though confused.

  Right. It had been years since the two had talked. To an AI core with perfect memory, Appetite was still that reckless monster trying to find himself. Force would’ve been necessary and already used by now.

  “Is there - is there anything that I can help you with?”

  ​“You can. I got a question for you.”

  ​“Query. One moment.” The young boy’s voice changed into a low, mildly condescending man’s voice. The sudden change in Kaulu’s personality always rattled Appetite’s nerves. It made him unsettling, as though he was ready to flip a switch to genocide at any moment. “Ready for your question.”

  ​“What’s the connection between the Flame, Shadow, and the Core?”

  ​Kaulu flickered for a second. He flashed red, then orange, and then yellow. The little buzzing sounds he made gradually changed to a low, maddened laughter. Appetite kept still, forcing himself still and waiting for the AI to finish its tirade. After a while, it blinked back into its normal swirl of colors and took a purposeful sigh.

  “She figured you’d use this work around. Do you want to know?” The man’s voice peaked with amusement. “You might not like the answer.”

  Chapter 18

  Breaks, Cracks, and All Things Bad

  Kindle

  “I knew I was making a mistake and I made it anyway.” -- Cassie “Kindle” Caldwell

  “See, I told ’em,” Major Steven Debenham barked as he ran off. “I told the brass that you’d come. But noooooooo, don’t listen to the Major who managed to blow himself up in his quals and still get a promotion. He’s obviously an idiot.”

  ​Kindle hadn’t expected the man to have all his marbles looking the way he did. This, however, broke expectations. She thought the man would go full throttle at them, driving forward with no mercy left. What had happened was very much the opposite. The moment she stepped foot in the CEO office, barreling through the glass and leaping over the large desk with the aid of burst from a gravity dampener, the Major had lost all interest in the fight. He sprinted past her, her now-reverted grandpa, and her armed cousins, and through a narrow corridor at the very back of the room, laughing all the way.

  A rage boiled inside her, rough against the scalding power of the Flame also coursing through her. Both were hard to contain; both leaked with every action she took. She started to run after the taunting squeaks of his mechanical legs and madness-soaked laughter - but her grandfather stopped her, grabbing her by the wrist.

  “Wait a sec, Cass,” her grandad said, holding his burnt and bleeding eye with his free hand and her wrist with the other. His transformation left him as naked as the day he was born. Scars - old pink and new, angry red ones alike - littered his body, curled up in a pool of his own blood. His face was stern, blood trickling down his side of his nose and dripping down the tip of his beard one drop at a time. “Your grand uncles and cousins are here too. See if they’re okay,” he said, letting go of her wrist and slapping her back with a red palm, “and give ‘em hell for all of us, will ya?” He smiled the proudest smile he had ever given to her. “I’ll be alright.” Drifter slumped his back against the shattered bookshelf, all energy he mustered leaving. “Go get ’em, buddy.”

  ​Kindle nodded and sprinted after him. He’s gonna be okay, she thought as she sprinted after the Major. He’d endured worse. The worry persisted, though, thick as the burning in her legs as she ran. I gotta make it there. She knew that if they found whatever they were looking for, nothing in time or space would keep them from killing everyone she loved.

  So, she ran. Ran for her father. Ran for her grandparents. For her uncles, aunts, and cousins. For everyone. She needed to stop this now. I helped start this, I gotta end it. She gritted her teeth and tightened her weapons in her grip.

  ​She followed the sounds of the Major sprinting through the long corridor. A strong smell of dust and mold filled her nose down the ancient hallway. The artificial lights - not made of anything Kindle could see that would be electric - flickered on and off throughout, flashing her shadow against the metal walls with every burst. She felt the velveteen touch of the flowers and moss blooming and growing on the tight walls beside her; and soon after an odd flexing feeling, like stepping through a pool of water.

  Odd, if she gave herself time to think about it. She didn’t have the time.

  She kept running, the ancient smells giving way to the taste and scent of fresh water and smoke from a kindled fire. She ran for what felt like another mile before she saw the corridor opening like a river into a gulf.

  When she stepped through the narrow opening, she was hit by a surge of lights and sounds, she saw that she wasn’t in the building - not anymore. A ship. Here. How? They would’ve seen it - or at the very least, the bunker that housed it. Could it be a teleporter? To where?

  ​Not the time for that. She needed to look around.

  ​Taking in her surroundings was tougher than she imagined - where she’d expected madness, she found this odd peace. Kindle stood in a circul
ar room, tall pillars of metal and white hard light erected all around her. Green moss and flowers of every color wrapped around the supports, giving a large area of the ship the look of an old ruin. Pools of holographic water pulsed silently underneath the thin layer of translucent metal beneath her feet. Small embers floated aimlessly around them, bouncing on every surface that they could; upon closer inspection, they weren’t lights, embers, or even fireflies, but some small robots radiating a familiar energy.

  She touched one and felt it - raw and untamed, but reminiscent of what she felt in the Swamp. The world’s memories flooded her in brief flashes, one after another; it took all her mental power to keep it at bay.

  This was the source of the Flame. This was her mother’s legacy. Did she even know ’bout this? Who did?

  ​“Cassie? That you?”

  ​It was her Uncle Moses’s soft voice, rough and well-worn like the wool of a sweater. She rushed in his direction, following through the small creeks and webs of several metal corridors. Tucked in one of the small conclaves sat her grand-uncles and cousins.

  They looked battered and bruised, torn rags and beaten eyes all around. Surrounding them were bodies of Bluecoat Elites, as well as a single quadruped mechanism that looked to be part of the ship’s defenses. It was made of metal and thick black cords, molded into a massive dog-like shape. The broken red eye - the color and texture of a shattered ruby - sputtered out a geyser of the same flame she used, smelling stronger than ever of smoking ash and embers.

  Kindle kneeled down to her family, the tsunami of drones drawing to her in a calm wave of orange at the sight of her. Uncle Moses leaned forward, shifting his uneven body weight from one side of his body to the other.

  “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he said. “Thought we might’ve been a goner there.”