Children of the Wastes (The Aionach Saga Book 2)

by J. C. Staudt

“Well… shit, Bouch. Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me. Because… because I want to join up with you. I want to be on your team. I can help you do what you’re planning to do. Wax told us all about it.”

  “So you did know it was me. The mission last night.”

  “No, I—” Kugh’s face was red from hanging upside down, but Merrick could tell when he flushed with shame. “Yeah. I knew it was you…”

  “Thank you for your honesty.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, you bet.”

  “So you want to help?”

  Kugh nodded quickly. “Let’s put this shit behind us and be buddies again. Like old times, Bouch.”

  Merrick gave him a warm smile. “The old times are gone, Kugh. I’m looking forward to the new ones. These are my people now. And these people… they don’t forgive you.”

  Merrick signaled the ropers and walked away. He heard Admison Kugh cry out before his head hit the water. His body sank until he was submerged down to his thighs. When his head hit the barrel this time, it struck the bottom.

  Raith and Derrow moved to clear a path for Merrick, their faces grim. The crowds cheered, eager hands reaching out to touch his clothes. They were his army, though they didn’t know it yet. Raith knew. Raith always knew. Merrick folded his arms and hunched over, hurrying through the mass of bodies. Behind him, the roar eclipsed the sound of Kugh’s thrashing.

  “That was wrong,” Derrow said when they reached the safety of Merrick’s staging area, a two-room travel agency called ZipTrips located on the corner of a refurbished strip mall. A faded poster on the wall read: Visit Villabhai—The White City Awaits, above which spanned a vibrant image of the beachside mecca on the island of Nebulai.

  “You hate the Scarred,” Merrick said.

  “Yes, I do. We all do. But—”

  “Then stop complaining.”

  “You murdered him without giving him a chance to fight back. All men deserve a fair fight, no matter how despicable they are.”

  “Maybe I should’ve thrown him into the ring with you. It would’ve ended the same for him.”

  “Probably. But at least you would’ve shown all those people that you’re a fair man.”

  “I gave him what he deserved. That’s fair.”

  “You plan to make these people fight for you,” Raith said. “For that, they must believe you’re more than just the next tyrant in line. They want to know you’ll do things differently when you take power. Not the way Wax did them.”

  “Of course I’ll be better than Wax,” Merrick said.

  “I don’t mean better. I mean showing mercy where Wax showed cruelty. Offering goodwill to all where he’s offered only prejudice. Administering justice instead of the oppression these people have become so accustomed to.”

  “I’ll do all that and more,” said Merrick. “I’ll be greater—better—and wiser, and… all those things… than Wax ever was.”

  “Will you start now?”

  “Huh?”

  “The Scarred have gotten away with too much. The north needs to be taken, and you have our support in that. But if you want to inspire these people by your example, start now. Don’t wait until you’re at the top of the Hull Tower to show them your benevolence. If you let yourself form patterns of corruption, those patterns will become your legacy. You’re on a path to become exactly like the man you want to depose.”

  “You don’t know anything about the path I’m on,” Merrick said. “I’ve got plenty of people out there who would die for me already.”

  “Would they? Or do they follow you because they’d rather live?”

  Merrick couldn’t fathom why Raith was being so hard on him. He didn’t think the old blackhand was jealous of his success, but he was clearly troubled by it. Lately Raith was always challenging him, or warning him, or pointing out things he perceived to be mistakes. He never let up; he never told Merrick he was glad for him, or proud of him. I should stop thinking I deserve that, Merrick reflected. I’m expecting compliments from a man who isn’t here to flatter me. He wants to find his people and go home. To him, I’m a means to an end.

  If there was one thing Raith did well, it was teach. Merrick had only ignited for a few seconds when he’d healed Toler Glaive in the Boiler Yard all those months ago, yet the sleep had taken him for half a day afterwards. He’d been burning inefficiently, and Raith was showing him how to sharpen his ignitions through focus and practice. It was as if he’d been drinking through a straw full of holes, and Raith was helping him plug those holes one by one. Between Merrick’s training and his ever-increasing horde of supporters, things were looking up.

  Jiren’s condition, however, hadn’t improved. He’d made no progress toward normalcy despite Merrick’s repeated healing attempts and hours of social interaction with the Decylumites. This morning, they’d sat him in one of the travel agency’s guest chairs. He’d been staring with a blank expression at the Villabhai poster on the wall the entire time Merrick and Raith had been arguing.

  “They follow me because they know I’ll change things,” Merrick was saying. “I don’t need your advice, and your criticism isn’t helping.”

  “Of course,” Raith said. “You’ve got everything in hand. It isn’t as if I know anything about being in charge of a city.”

  Merrick laughed. “Oh, that’s good. Rub my nose in the breadth of your vast experience. Again. How can I deny the prowess of your leadership when the evidence is standing right here in front of me? There were eighty of you, weren’t there?” The room fell silent. Raith didn’t flinch, but Merrick could see he’d hurt him. He didn’t back off. “You might be some bigshot underground, Raithur. Up here, you don’t know a thing. So stop pretending.”

  Derrow stepped in. “If you knew what was good for you, you’d take Raith’s advice for what it is—a friend trying to help a friend. I guess we saw out there how you treat your friends, didn’t we…”

  “A man in my position has no room for disloyalty,” Merrick said. “Those loyal to me have nothing to worry about.”

  “You’re sick in the head, commando. Any blackhand in this room could tear you apart… aside from maybe Jiren… and you’re talking about loyalty like you’re some kind of monarch ruling over us. While we’re on the subject of your sovereignty, what’s with all these promises about the riches of the city north? You lived there. You know it’s only a little better off than the south.”

  “The north is way better off,” said Merrick. “The Scarred control every significant resource in this city.”

  “What about the trade caravans they say have been disappearing? The nomads are stealing all the goods bound for the north and selling them off for cheap down here. I’ll bet you the southers are prospering more now than they have in decades.”

  “He’s got the truth of it,” said Hayden Cazalet, the Decylumite researcher. “They say there are twice as many southers as northers. If you open the borders, you’ll effectively triple the city’s population. You’ll be spreading the same supply of resources across three times as many people. The southers might benefit in the short-term. But what about the northers, who only stand to lose out?”

  “More people means a more productive society,” Merrick said. “We’ll be able to accomplish more. Collaborate more. Build more.”

  Ernost Bilschkin laughed. “Society? What society? The people of this city wouldn’t know society if it fell on them.”

  “I understand you all want to defend Raith because he’s one of you. But you don’t know how things work around here. You don’t see how I’m going to turn things around because you can’t comprehend it. When I’m Commissar, Belmond will be a cohesive unit. A unified people striving toward the same goal. That’ll create society. That will bring us the abundance we all deserve.”

  Gregar Holdsaard, the big nine-fingered mechanic, chuckled. “These are some fascinating pipe dreams you’ve got, kid. Sounds to me like this Pilot Wax dway has the right idea, keeping the good apples and tossing out the bad ones.
Now, I’m not saying it’s wrong to help the less fortunate. But you know, it’s true what they say… you can dirty a diamond, but you can’t spit-shine shit. You invite a bunch of zoomheads and gangers into your house, they’re going to break things.”

  “The only reason they’re zoomheads and gangers in the first place is because they had to turn somewhere to cope with their poverty,” said Merrick.

  Gregar smiled. “You sure that’s the only reason?”

  “Drugs and violence are fixable problems.”

  “Yeah? Who’s going to fix them? You? You gonna cure everyone who’s addicted to zoom? Tell them to leave their gangs? The only families they’ve got?”

  “I’m trying to do something good for this city, and all you people can see are the pitfalls.”

  “At least we can see them. They call ‘em pitfalls because usually you don’t.”

  “Yeah, I figure we’re doing you a favor,” said Derrow.

  “I don’t need your help ruling a city I haven’t conquered yet,” said Merrick. “I need your support so I can get there.”

  “You have our support,” Raith said.

  “Then why don’t I feel that way?”

  Merrick’s hand-picked assistant, a frail, hunchbacked man called Boke, entered the room. “Sorry to disturb you, Merrick. Three men outside looking for you.”

  “I told you, no more healings for today.”

  “Not for a healing, sir. They say they’re friends of yours. They’re… gray ghosts.”

  Merrick felt a sudden pang of fear. If the Revs aren’t here to pledge their support, they’ve come to kill me. Two assassination attempts in one day. I really am getting popular. “You said there were three of them?”

  “Yessir.”

  “Let one of them in. Check him for weapons first. Make the other two wait outside.”

  “Yessir.” Boke left.

  “Be on your guard,” Merrick said.

  The Decylumites shifted, readying themselves.

  When the door opened, Swydiger Porter entered. “You forget your old buddies so quick?”

  Merrick accepted Swy’s outstretched hand. “I haven’t forgotten. I’m not a Rev anymore, you know. What are you doing here, Swy?”

  “I know you’re not a Rev. You never were, really.” The gray-coated man reached beneath the flap of his jacket and took hold of something there.

  Merrick stepped back. Gregar and Sombit grabbed Swy by the arms.

  “What—what are you doing? Let go of me.”

  “Why are you here, Swy?” Merrick repeated.

  “I brought you something. It’s in my belt.”

  Gregar brushed aside Swy’s jacket and inspected the object before handing it to Merrick. It was a curved piece of metal about two inches long with five small holes in one side.

  Merrick turned it over in his palm. “Let him go.”

  Swy pulled away from them and brushed himself off.

  “What’s this for?” Merrick asked.

  “It’s a thank-you. For saving Cluspith’s life.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s called a resonarc. Peymer and the boys found it in the basement of an old trucking depot on Chaffer Street. You imagine that? A trucking depot.”

  “Boke, I thought I told you to check him for weapons.”

  Boke stuttered. “I did, sir, I just—”

  “Didn’t happen to see this one. Right, okay. That doesn’t answer my question, Swy. What does it do?”

  “Good things,” said Swy. “Real good things. May I?” He reached out to take it.

  Merrick hesitated. If I hand him this mysterious thing and he kills me with it, I’ll prove myself the most gullible Commissar-to-be in history. “No, I don’t think you may. Tell me how it works.”

  “It’s really easier if I show—”

  “Tell me.”

  “Well… you can wear it in a few different places. The most common are your wrist and the back of your neck. You can also put it behind your ear.”

  Confused, Merrick lifted the bar to his wrist.

  “Careful—” Swy cringed, as if bracing himself for a blow.

  “What are you so nervous about?”

  “It’s dangerous.”

  Merrick pulled it away. “That’s why I’m not letting you have it back. Keep talking.”

  “It’s only dangerous if you don’t know how to use it. You’ve got to make sure you put it on right.”

  “And when I do?”

  “Well, its primary function is to keep you awake. Peymer says people used to use these all the time before the Heat. Truck drivers, emergency workers… even doctors. Anyone who had to pull long shifts.”

  “Is this the only one you found?”

  “Oh, no way. They found a ton of them down there. I got one myself, see?” He lowered his jacket collar to reveal the identical metal bar leeched to his neck. “I snagged one for you. Thought you could use it. It might help you with that sleep thing you get after you heal people.”

  Merrick glanced at Raith, who looked skeptical. “I don’t know if it’ll work for that, but… thanks. How would I put it on?”

  “You place it in the desired location and squeeze the ends. You’re going to feel a pinch, but that’s normal. It’s the probes entering your skin.”

  “Probes?”

  “It creates micro-vibrations that inspire prolonged wakefulness. It’s like constantly shaking yourself awake, only you don’t really feel it. Every so often, it injects a stimulant compound that works in tandem with the vibrations to boost the device’s effectiveness.”

  Merrick snorted. “You think I need this?”

  Swy gave a hurt shrug. “Just thought you could use it,” he repeated.

  “It kind of sounds too good to be true.”

  “Well, granted, you don’t want to use it for more than a day or two at a time. But if you really need to put off being tired for a while…”

  “How long have you been wearing yours?”

  “Um…” Swy’s brow creased in thought. “I don’t know, exactly. We’ve been on night raids the last couple nights. Still trying to get back at those gangers who trashed the Armitage Gardens. So, two days, I think?”

  Merrick held out the resonarc for Swy to take. “Thanks again, but no thanks. I like sleeping.”

  “Keep it, Merrick. It’s a gift.”

  “I’ve got a gift already.” Merrick wiggled his fingers. “Didn’t want this one, either.”

  “You can take the thing off whenever you want. You could wear it during the day to keep yourself alert and improve your awareness. Or don’t wear it at all. Whatever. I kind of stole it for you, so you should hang onto it.”

  Merrick couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Okay Swy, you win.” He slipped the resonarc into his pocket. “How’s Clus?”

  “Why don’t you ask him yourself? He and Eldridge are outside.”

  “Bring them in, Boke.”

  Swydiger shook his head. “Uh… we’d better not. Clus has been having a real problem with enclosed spaces lately. Mind coming outside?”

  “Sure, no problem. We’ll continue this discussion later, dways,” he told the Decylumites. “We’re moving in the morning, so I recommend getting some rest tonight. Don’t let this shyster sell you on any anti-sleep devices.”

  Merrick left the travel agency under a veil of silence. Not my fault these stone-faced foreigners don’t understand humor. Outside, the people had left Admison Kugh hanging upside down but stripped his body of everything usable, including his clothes. Eldridge was trying to divert Cluspith’s attention from the gruesome display, but Clus was so fascinated he didn’t even acknowledge Merrick when he came out.

  “The man is naked,” Cluspith was saying. “They took his clothes. He’s naked. He’s going to get a lightburn on his penis. Look. Look. Eldridge Porter, look. A lightburn is going to be on his penis.”

  “Okay, Clus. That’s enough,” said Swy. “Look who came to see you. It’s Merrick Bouchard.”


  “Cluspith Porter knows Merrick Bouchard.”

  “That’s right. Merrick Bouchard is a friend.”

  “Merrick Bouchard is a good dway,” said Cluspith. “Cluspith Porter doesn’t hurt. Cluspith Porter isn’t hurting.”

  Swy turned sincere eyes to Merrick. “He doesn’t understand what you did for him, but he knows you made it stop hurting. He remembers.”

  “I’m glad I was there.”

  “Look, Merrick. There’s something you should know.”

  “You didn’t really come to give me the resonarc, did you?”

  “That was one of the reasons…”

  “What were the others?”

  “Just one. Eldridge, take Clus around the other side of the building, okay? He doesn’t need to be looking at this anymore.”

  When they were gone, Swydiger lowered his voice. “We think the nomads might be planning to kill you.”

  “Are you kidding me? That’s what I thought you were here to do.”

  Swy laughed, more out of discomfort than humor. “There’s only one thing in this city the nomads are afraid of. Those foreigners in there. The ones with the dark hands.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this while we were inside?”

  “And let them know they’re the only thing keeping the nomads from launching an all-out attack on you? Why give them that kind of information?”

  “It’s alright, Swy. I trust them.”

  “I’m thinking you shouldn’t be so trusting anymore, Merrick. Power draws attention like shit draws flies. You’ve gotten very powerful very fast.”

  “The Decylumites are the best friends I’ve got right now. They don’t see eye-to-eye with me on everything, but they’re backing me up. That’s more than I can say for the Revs.”

  “The Revs want to support you, Merrick. All the dways I’ve talked to, at least. But we can’t break ties with the nomads. We rely on them for too much.”

  “Maybe it’s time you learned to rely on someone else.”

  “You know it’s not that simple.”

  “Of course I do. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make light of this. It’s a little disturbing, honestly. What do the savages have against me, anyway?”

  “The nomads like things the way they are. Trade with the city south has been good for them. If you open the borders, they’ll lose the upper hand they’ve gained by starving the north of trade goods. To them, you might as well be a carbon copy of Pilot Wax. A copy who’s easier to eliminate now, before you start gaining some real traction. They think if you succeed, you’ll just be an inferior version of him.”