by T E Olivant
This seemed to mollify the crowd a little, and the man who had shouted sat back down with his Builder friends. The leader gave a low growl as a warning to any other interruptions.
“Now, we have another difficult subject for the consideration of the people. We have been investigating the recent herd losses and we have some information to report.”
There had been rumours for months about the deaths of herd animals. People said there was a terrible thunder in the night, and half the herd would be destroyed in the morning. People blamed the wolves, or even some of the giant eagles, but I had overheard my father talking to one of the Herder’s late one night while they had both been taking more than a little moonshine.
“This wasn’t an animal attack,” the Herder had whispered grimly, his drunkenness carrying the words to where I hid. “The poor creatures were left in pieces. I’ve never seen anything like it, but it scared me out of my wits.”
My father had been cynical at first: another reason for them to raise their prices, he had said one evening when he had come back from a particularly difficult trading session. But there had been something genuine about the Herder’s tone that night. Like Hunters, Herders were not prone to exaggeration and it was not often that they admitted to being scared, especially to outsiders.
The speaker continued, “We are investigating at present, but for the moment the attacks seem to have stopped. Isn’t that right?”
A man stood up from the far end of the table. “Yes, no losses for over a month.”
“So our measures have been effective, and I will consider this matter closed for the time being.”
This didn’t sound very convincing to me, and none of the Herder clan looked too pleased at this pronouncement.
Perhaps there was tension between the others and the Herder clan. It was so difficult to keep up with who was on good terms with who. From what I knew Hunters and Herders tended to get on well – we both understood our animals and the importance of managing the White. Diggers keep much to themselves, although they sometimes supported the Builders. Doctors were needed by everyone, so they had their own special power. And nobody really trusted the Seekers.
“The Seekers tell us that there has been more trouble than usual to the South.” The Chieftain continued. “Can we please repeat that no one should head in this direction without protection, and without the explicit agreement of their clan Chief. This area has always been dangerous, but it appears it is more so now.”
I hoped Jony and Mya couldn’t see my face. This was where our parents had died, on a long trip to the southern edge of the White. Why had they gone there, where wild creatures and perhaps even stranger things lurked? I would never find out now.
“I am afraid that as of next year, our city tax for the Meet will have to rise to twelve per cent.” There were some angry shouts from the clans at this news, and I found myself shaking my claws along with them.
“This is to pay for the recent damage to the city caused by the hail storms last month.”
I ground my teeth in disgust. It was a sore point among Hunters that so much money was spent on the city that we spent so little time in. But I knew we would agree to it in the end. Without the trade we were as vulnerable as the Doctors were out on the far White. It was a matter of survival.
When the Chieftain finally finished we were free to file out and each clan went their separate ways. Unlike the main Meet the Clan Assemblies were small affairs. By the time we reached our cave the children were tired, shuffling along with eyes half shut. The room was hot with bodies, and there was little room to stand let alone sit.
After months of planning, I was afraid that the words would fail me. I had registered my wish to speak earlier in the day, so I knew that there was only one man left before me on the list written on the ice wall. But that man was our clan leader, Scyre, the most important Hunter of all.
“Welcome Hunters!” He raised his arms as the crowd applauded. I noticed Greyson sneak into the tent and gestured at him. He came over to join us. Mya immediately snuck onto his lap and I smiled, glad the kids had someone they trusted nearby. The tent was hot and crowded and the people were starting to get rowdy.
“Let us get straight to business,” Scyre said, holding up his hand for silence. “First I will respond to our Leader’s speech this afternoon. There are some points I have to question.”
“You all know about the losses of the deer. No matter what the Chieftain says, this matter is not resolved. Would you sleep easy on your beds if you were a Herder, facing an unknown foe that takes your livestock in the night?
“If Herders cannot defend themselves, we can!” someone shouted from the back. Scyre nodded.
“Exactly. We are brave, and we are strong. I have offered our services to the Herders as guards, but so far they have refused.”
Greyson leaned over to me. “No wonder they bloody refused,” he hissed, and I could almost taste the moonshine on his breath, “it would be a coup - if the Hunters controlled the herds then the Herders would have nothing.”
Scyre carried on. “The leader tells us that the attacks have stopped. But that still leaves too many questions unanswered. What killed those beasts, because let me tell you, I have never seen anything like it. No animal did this.”
There were gasps from the crowd.
“Which of them did it? Diggers? Doctors?” A voice called from the crowd.
“We do not know enough to start throwing about accusations, but trust me when I tell you that we will find out.”
He waved a huge hand at the audience to indicate the matter was closed. When he next spoke the crowd hushed, knowing this was the heart of his speech.
“For centuries our clan has worked the hardest on the ice. And that’s the way we like it. But isn’t it about time that we saw some recognition for this, some reward from our friends in the other clans? I propose that for this year we put ourselves first for a change.”
I wasn’t sure what this meant, but Greyson looked shocked.
“The leader’s new tax is an insult to us. Who else must work as hard for their goods to trade? Do the Doctors have to risk their lives every day out on the White? Or the Builders?”
“No!” Roared back the audience.
“There may be a time coming when we have to choose our friends carefully. I hope it doesn’t come to this, but we must be prepared. Go home to your caves, but remembered if I call you to the clan, then you must come.”
What on the White was that about? I was about to ask Greyson when the Chieftain spoke again.
“Stand up, Kyrk of the Southern Caves.”
I stood as every face in the room turned to face me. I had to raise my voice so that it could carry above the whispers.
“I am here to speak for my family. My parents died only a few months ago. I have come to the Assembly to declare my intentions to the clan. It is clan tradition to take in those children of the lost that are under the age of fourteen and train them in the orphan school.”
“But I am here to dispute this. I claim my right to take my place as leader of the family, and to keep guardianship of my brother and sister.” I kept my eyes on Scyre, not daring to look away. “I have killed many wild deer, and three of the White wolves in as many years. I am not afraid of anything in the White.”
“Jony,” I felt his shoulder tremble where it touched mine, “is thirteen and will soon be able to take his own place as a Hunter. He has assisted me on many hunts already. Mya is ten and although she is still small she is learning the ways of the Hunter. I was taught by the best,” it was hard now to keep the emotion from my voice, “So I believe that I can teach the others just as my parents would have done.”
I watched the leaders closely. The chief spoke with those on either side of him. I was surprised to see Scyre lean forward from his seat and bark a few words.
“You spoke well Kyrk.” The chief said finally. “You have done your parents proud. We are happy to accept your position as family leader.�
� The room murmured approval and I began to feel relieved until I realised that he had not finished yet. “However, we cannot ignore your youth, or your inexperience. I have no choice but to take the children into the care of the city. These are uncertain times, and we must protect our most vulnerable. They will reside with us, here, until circumstances change.”
"No!" I shouted, but the sound was lost in the growl of approval from the crowd. Children were precious. Too precious to be left with someone like me.
My heart broke again when I looked down at the two small figures cowering at my feet. Mya’s eyes were huge with disbelief and Jony was visibly trembling.
“Kyrk…” Mya said, but I could only shake my head in reply. I hugged the kids to me and they clung to my sides like they never wanted to let go.
“Hello Jony and Mya.” I looked up at the kind voice and saw the Chief’s sister, Hamyn. She was in charge of the school. Only orphans went to school as they had no parents to teach them the ways of hunting. It was a busy place. Hunters have a lot of orphans.
She smiled at me, a sad little smile that was still kind. “I’m sorry Kyrk, I know this is a tough decision for you, but I do think it’s for the best.” I was glad in some ways that it had to be Hamyn. The kids had known her their whole life, and she was one of my mother’s oldest friends. It would make the transition easier for them.
“Does it have to be now?” I asked.
“Will it be easier tomorrow?”
I shook my head.
Mya held her chin high, not wanting to seem weak. I loved her even more fiercely then. She gave me a last hug then turned and grimly took Hamyn’s hand. Jony still sniffed back tears and hugged my chest.
“I’m going to fix this.” I whispered into his ear, “I’m going to get you back.”
He nodded, and the words seemed to give him a little strength. He broke away reluctantly and went to stand next to his sister.
“Come along now.” Hamyn said in a gentle voice and they turned away. I watched their backs as they left. I grabbed a bottle of moonshine someone had dropped and emptied it into my throat.
Somehow, I ended up at the edge of the city, the voices and music a distant throb behind me. I sat and stared at nothing.
A hand reached down with a steaming cup. I looked up, tears on my cheeks, to see the face of a tall Seeker. He was old, I could tell by his thinning fur, but he looked strong, and frightening. I had never seen him before.
“Take the drink. It’ll warm you.”
“It’s my fault, I lost them.” I said, more to myself than to the stranger.
“It’s not your fault, any more than it is your parents’ faults for being murdered.” He shook his head and his silver hair shimmered in the moonlight. “I do blame your father for one thing. He should never have laid such a burden on you.”
“My siblings are not a burden!” I replied angrily and pushed myself up onto my feet. The man laughed hoarsely.
“And now I have offended you. I am sorry for that. Sometimes I forget what it was like to be young and afraid.”
With that he turned and left. It wasn’t until he retreated into the bar that something he said sunk in. He had said my parents had been murdered. Not killed, murdered. What could he mean? Without taking even a moment to think I dragged myself to my feet and followed him.
Chapter 5: Lisanne
“Let’s do it today.” Angel Sam gave me one of his crooked grins.
“I don’t know, Sam, maybe we should think about it a bit more.”
“Come on, it’s a low power day, graveyard shift. And you already told me that your mum’s not at work. We’ll never get a better chance to have a look in the Archives.”
I twisted a strand of hair around my fist. The thing was, Sam was right. Only me and Sam were left in Tech by the afternoon break. One little trick that everyone learnt early on in the job was how to change your shift clock on and clock off times. The little cogs that represented everyone’s hours could be easily manipulated to show that you started earlier or finished later than you actually did. As long as you weren’t too blatant about it, even the supervisors turned a blind eye.
“Ok,” I said. “Let’s do it.”
Even though no one else was there, I still cast anxious looks around the room as Sam fixed it so that we could leave two hours early. It wouldn’t do to get caught before we had even started.
We walked over to the seventh corridor and into the section of the City devoted to History. The tunnels in the Historical section were kept immaculate and there were many people hurrying back and forth, most wearing the protective gloves that marked them as Historians.
I had briefed Sam beforehand, but I still felt my heart race as I led him up to the archive reception point. It didn’t help my nerves when I saw a familiar face at the desk.
“Lisanne! It’s been a long time. Here to see your mother?” Junior Happenstance’s wrinkled face cracked into a wide smile and I felt mine do the same. She was one of the highest grades in the City, but also a genuinely kind person. Ten years ago she had been a great Historian, but rumour said she had annoyed the Leader one time too many and ended up stuck as the receptionist. Whatever the truth was, she never displayed even a particle of bitterness. I felt a knot in my stomach. I was about to lie to her.
“Hello Junior. Not exactly, I’ve come to show my friend around the archives.” Junior peered at Sam uncertainly.
“Really?”
“Look,” I leaned forward conspiratorially, “someone of his level could normally never even dream of seeing the archive rooms. My mother thought it might help inter-grade relations if I let him have a look around.”
“Well, perhaps I should just check with her.”
“Of course,” I said with a shrug. “She’s in meetings with the Leader this afternoon, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind being disturbed if you want confirmation.”
Junior’s face coloured and the knot in my stomach tightened but I forced myself to hold her gaze.
“Very well, but we close in an hour and a half so make sure you’re done by then. And no restricted areas.”
“Of course,” I said, my head giddy with relief. Sam walked silently beside me as I led him into the archives, but he couldn’t resist whispering a few words when the door closed behind us.
“You’ve missed your calling Lisanne. You should have been in politics.”
“You’re telling me,” I hissed back.
As we walked quietly through the archive room and tried not to draw attention to ourselves, I felt my body relax. My mother had taken me here since I was a tiny child, and it felt like home. I let my feet lead me past the conflict wall, turned right at agriculture and industry, and left before the series of rooms dedicated to each century. Finally, in a quiet and dim area of the archive we reached the section named Historical Geography.
I pulled on a pair of thin gloves and handed some to Sam. Just because we were here unauthorized, there was no reason to be disrespectful.
“So, what are we looking for?”
“An old map of the land before the White. There must be one somewhere.”
I walked to the end of the stacks and turned the mechanical gear. A whoosh of sanitised air brushed my face as the shelves of archives opened up. I glanced as they whirred past, my arm turning the wheel as my eyes flickered left to right. I focussed entirely on what was in front of me, Sam and the archive room disappeared into nothingness. Finally, something caught my eye and I hit the break.
It was an old paper book with large pages. The cover was missing and some of the delicate paper leaves were ripped but I could still read the title.
Collins Atlas of the World, 1997
“Sam…” I called gently, “This is it.”
He started forward in excitement and reached for the book. He might have just been a mechanic’s son, but he treated the volume with the due respect it deserved, cradling it in his gloved hands and placing it reverentially on a padded table. With a quick glance to c
heck that no one was watching, I started to turn the pages.
It was Sam that found the correct page. We had been at it for several minutes before he worked out that the co-ordinates formed a grid pattern across the pages. It didn’t help us that many were water damaged and barely legible. Eventually he spotted the critical numbers.
“It’s right up top, in the extreme north.” Sam peered so low over the book that his nose almost touched the page. I nudged him to one side so that I could see.
“64.20N 149.49W” I read, “That’s it!” I stared at the map. It was disappointingly empty and dull. There was a wriggly line that was a faded blue, but the rest of the page was blank and white.
“I wonder,” Sam said, letting a gloved finger trace around a blob of blue. “Do you think this could be a big pool of water?”
“A lake,” I said, “that’s what they called them then.”
“Well that’s interesting.”
“Why?”
“Don’t you remember from school? The City – our City – was built under the ground near the edge of the lake. Something to do with the heat source of fresh water, I can’t remember exactly. Of course, it’s frozen now.”
“So, the coordinates could be the location of the city?”
“Or of somewhere nearby. It’s difficult to know when we don’t know exactly where we are.”
“Well, that’s that then.” I said as I snapped the book shut. “I just thought the answer might be a bit more interesting.”
“But that’s the point, Lisanne. We haven’t really got any answers. What were the sightings? And what does ‘no action taken’ mean?”
“I don’t know.” I watched Sam peel the gloves off his long, delicate fingers. His face was creased in thought. “Do you have any ideas?”
“No,” he said, but he didn’t meet my eye. I had the uncomfortable feeling that he was holding out on me. I didn’t want to push him any further, but it rankled that he didn’t trust me with his theories. After all, without me he would never even have made it into the archives. I followed him out in silence.