Children of the Divide

by Patrick S. Tomlinson

  “I think I understand, honored bearer,” Benson responded.

  “And how well do you think you have cared for your children here?”

  “Not well enough,” he said without thinking through his answer. “We can, and should, do better by your people in Shambhala. We’re all one Trident.”

  “A trident you held.” The bearer slumped back in zer chair, almost shrinking before his eyes. “My ears have heard enough.” Ze tugged on the skirt of the attendant to zer left. “Show them. Let them see.”

  The anonymous attendant fluttered an acknowledgement and they both departed the chamber while the bearer gazed upon zer guests with clouded eyes.

  Benson swallowed, hard, then looked over at Sco’Val. He’d forgotten their guide was even in the room for as quiet as ze’d been since making the introductions. He was beginning to suspect the demonstration in the street that he’d disrupted was not so spontaneous as he’d assumed. Had Sco’Val been testing him, scouting out his reaction on behalf of the bearer? If so, he’d obviously passed the audition.

  But it didn’t answer the question of what he’d been brought down here to see. His hope of a quick and painless reunion with Benexx was fading. Theresa, feeling the same anxiety, laced her fingers in his and squeezed.

  “It’s going to be OK, baby,” he whispered. “We’re getting zer back if I have to dig up the whole city with my bare hands.”

  “I know we will, dear.”

  Benson drew his wife close and kissed her forehead as she rested her free hand on his chest. The attendants returned, carrying a stretcher between them, a blanket draped over it. For a millisecond, Benson’s body went rigid with terror for what was hidden beneath. But as they set it down and he got a better angle, it was obvious the object wasn’t a body of any kind.

  He leaned down and pulled back the blanket. The object definitely wasn’t a body, it was a bomb.

  Benson jumped back, so startled he almost tripped over himself. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He put a hand over his now racing heart. “A little warning next time!?”

  “Pavel,” Theresa said. “Get back up into plant range and get an explosives tech down here. Fast. You,” she pointed at Sco-Val, “lead him back up to the surface.”

  “I know the way out,” Sakiko said eagerly. “I’ll take him back.”

  Theresa looked to Kexx, who nodded zer approval. “OK, go. Quickly, and don’t say anything about this to anyone until we get it disarmed, understood?”

  Sakiko saluted and grabbed Korolev by the wrist. “C’mon, this way.” The two of them, plus Sakiko’s pet, darted out of the temple.

  Benson had already gotten over his initial shock and leaned back in to inspect the device. It was a slick piece of work, boasting several kilograms of the sort of demolitions charges the mines further inland were using. Whoever had built it had a steady hand. The wire leads between the blasting caps and detonator were orderly, the soldering was neat without much excess or drippings. It was the deadly work of an experienced craftsman. If it went off down here, it would liquefy everyone and collapse the chamber.

  The explosives packaging had been stripped, which was smart because there were no batch numbers to track, but it wouldn’t be terribly hard to run inventory checks at the sites to see where the stock had gone missing from. Industrial grade explosives like these were chemically complex and resource-intensive to produce. It was very unlikely anyone cooked them up in their kitchen, not without blowing up their city block in the process.

  “Where did you get this?” Benson asked the bearer. “And when?”

  “It was found inside the main temple of Cuut, not far from here, the day after the attack on the parade. We think it was meant to go off at the same time, but failed. Failed to kill me.”

  “You were in the temple when the attack happened?”

  The bearer nodded. “I led a ceremony.”

  “We have a common enemy.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “You really should’ve let us move it.”

  “We didn’t want anyone disturbing it. What if a child found it and started playing?”

  Benson sighed. “There are a hundred ways to set one of these off. Pressure switches, accelerometers. You’re incredibly lucky it didn’t explode the second you picked it up.”

  “What my husband is trying to say, honored bearer, is in the future, let us know if you find another one of these. We have people who can disable them safely, so no one is put at risk.”

  Benson looked up at his wife. “What do you think, honey? A third prong in the attack?”

  “Probably. They already timed the run on the Ark and the parade bomb. But why didn’t it go off?”

  “We’ll let the bomber boys figure that out. Right now, we need to get everyone out of these tunnels until it’s dismantled.”

  “Agreed.”

  “We will not abandon our temple,” the bearer said with finality.

  “I don’t mean to be imprudent, bearer,” Kexx said. “But if that bomb explodes down here, we’ll all be turned into soup. This is temporary, our human friends will be done before the evening cleanse.” Kexx turned to Benson. “Right?”

  “Er…” Benson checked the time in his plant. Three hours and change until the night’s cleansing ritual. “Sure. Absolutely. You won’t even know we were here.”

  The bearer made a grand show of considering this. Finally, ze stood. “I am tired. I will return to my rooms and rest until it’s time for the evening cleanse. My attendants will accompany me. All of them.” Without another word, the undeclared leader of the Atlantians in Shambhala swept out of the temple with a half-dozen lackeys in zer wake.

  “Did…” Benson stammered. “Did ze just give us a three-hour window to clean this up?”

  “Seriously?” Kexx asked. “Really, my friend, for a detective, you have a strange knack for overlooking the obvious.”

  “Don’t get me started,” Theresa added.

  Benson looked back down at the deadly device. He’d come down here looking for a clue, a lead, anything that could point him in Benexx’s direction. This was a pretty big one. And even though it failed to go off when its builder intended, Benson was determined to make sure it blew up in their face.

  Nineteen

  The sound of rope hitting the floor cued Benexx that ze had company incoming. Ze stirred, just as Jolk came down the rope hand-over-hand. Benexx darkened zer skinglow to the point it felt like ze was squeezing zer skin shut, then moved to the shadows behind a stalagmite. Jolk was alone, and armed with a rifle. Ze didn’t look to be in a particularly good mood.

  Jolk turned on the light mounted to zer gun and swept it around the chamber. Benexx ducked back behind cover.

  “There’s no point hiding, changfu. Come out!”

  Quietly, Benexx climbed onto the top of the stalagmite. From the new vantage point, Benexx caught a strong scent of bak’ri hooch wafting off Jolk on one of zer fingers. So, ze’d been drinking. That was good and bad. The Atlantian moonshine would dull Jolk’s senses and reaction time, but ramp up zer aggression.

  “Finally fetched my dinner, did you?” ze taunted back, trying to bounce zer voice off a wall to misdirect Jolk for another few seconds. Another trick ze’d learned from Uncle Kexx. It worked, turning zer attention away from zer hiding place at forty-five degrees. Not out of zer peripheral vision, but it would have to do.

  “Not exactly,” Jolk answered. “But I have an appetite. And you’re going to feed it.”

  “One of us is going to bite something,” Benexx called again, bouncing zer voice from the opposite wall, causing Jolk to spin around the other direction, exposing zer back.

  “Did you really think I would let you embarrass me in front of Elder Sula without consequence?” ze shouted.

  Sula, Benexx thought. Jolk let the name of zer master slip. What a complete idiot. Ze filed the information away, more determined than ever to get out of here and bring zer mother’s resources crashing down on these assholes.

&n
bsp; Benexx tensed and closed zer eyes as the light swept right past the stalagmite ze was perched on top of, but Jolk didn’t look up to spot zer. The intense light must be screwing with zer night vision.

  “I’ve got something for you, bearer. Something that will remind you of your proper place.” Jolk took zer hand away from the rifle’s foregrip and held up zer wrist for Benexx to see. Zer hand peeled off the bracelet around zer wrist, exposing a flap of skin. A trio of bright purple fingerlike proboscises wiggled their way out of the flap and waved around in the open air. Benexx’s fingertips dug into the rock beneath. So, Jolk had rubbed wrists with an elder and planned to make good on zer threat to fill Benexx’s back with zer filthy brood.

  I’d rather die, Benexx thought. No, ze committed. That was a line ze wasn’t going to let them cross. Beat zer, starve zer, isolate zer, and ze would find a way to endure. But not that. Jolk was almost a head taller than zer, and more heavily muscled, and armed, but in that moment, Benexx didn’t care. One of them was going to be lying dead on the floor in the next few minutes, and ze’d been pushed to the point that ze didn’t give a thrice-damn who.

  Jolk spun zer wedge of light around the chamber in frustration. “Show yourself!”

  “Gladly,” Benexx growled, then leapt through the air and stretched zer arms out for Jolk’s neck. Jolk heard and spun around to face zer, the muzzle of the rifle climbing up in slow motion like a Cuut-damned John Woo film.

  In the split second before they connected, Benexx released zer death grip on zer skinglow and flared out to zer full brightness, bathing the entire chamber with zer bluegreen light. It had the desired effect.

  Jolk flinched from the sudden light, and Benexx hit zer horizontally. Despite zer smaller size, Benexx’s momentum was considerable and caught Jolk completely off guard at the shoulders. The impact folded zer over like a napkin and sent them both sprawling onto the unforgiving rock of the floor. Benexx managed to keep a hand around Jolk’s neck and squeezed. With zer other arm, Benexx reached down to try and get a grip on the rifle, but Jolk anticipated the move and pulled back. But ze didn’t anticipate Benexx lashing out with zer legs.

  Benexx was far from an experienced fighter, but ze’d had some training, both against humans and other Atlantians. Zer father had insisted. Rolling around in the dust of this cave, ze was glad he had. Ze’d learned several things sparring with a variety of opponents. One, humans hit hard. Their rigid skeletons meant they had the next best thing to built-in clubs for fists, elbows, knees, feet, and heads. Second, that unarmed fights with or between Atlantians almost always ended up on the ground in a grapple, and that Atlantian feet were, for all practical purposes, not functionally different from their hands.

  Sure, their toes were a trifle larger, and lacked the chemical receptors of their fingers (thank Xis, otherwise ze’d be constantly walking around tasting whatever ze was stepping in) but they were just as dexterous. If you knew what you were doing, it was like fighting with four arms instead of just two, a distinct advantage in any ground fight.

  Benexx made sure to take it to the ground at the first opportunity. Down here, strength, reach, and speed were less important than form, precision, leverage, and flexibility, as Jolk was about to learn the hard way. Benexx got a foot on the vertical forward grip of the rifle and clamped down for all ze was worth, then wrapped zer other hand around Jolk’s throat.

  Now, Jolk had to choose. Let go of the gun and pry Benexx’s hands free of zer neck, or focus on getting the rifle into position to turn zer head into a soup bowl. It wasn’t as straightforward a decision for an Atlantian. A human caught in such a position would have maybe ten seconds of consciousness to work with before oxygen starvation caused them to black out and their body to go limp.

  But Jolk’s slower metabolism and decentralized nervous system meant ze had a minute or more to try and break Benexx’s grip, and even if ze passed out, the peripheral nervous nodes in zer arms and legs would go right on trying to execute the last set of orders they’d gotten from the brain, just in a much less coordinated way.

  Jolk stalled for time, trying to bring a foot up to grab the gun, but as flexible as Atlantian joints were, they weren’t that flexible. Recognizing it was hopeless, Jolk reversed zer leg and used it to try and flip zerself up and over Benexx in a reversal, but Benexx was able to counter the new leverage with zer free leg, at least for the moment. It wouldn’t last, though. As hard as ze’d worked and practiced, zer bearer body was simply weaker than Jolk’s. Benexx had gotten the drop on zer opponent and placed zerself in the best possible position, but Jolk was stronger, larger, and had better endurance. It was a battle of attrition now, and Benexx’s muscles were already burning with pain from the intense exertion. Ze couldn’t outlast Jolk. If ze didn’t find a way to win in the next ten seconds, ze was as good as dead.

  Or worse.

  Jolk finally made zer choice and abandoned the rifle, moving zer hands up to grab Benexx’s wrists.

  To hell with this, Benexx thought. Ze couldn’t maneuver the rifle well enough with one foot to actually train its muzzle on zer foe, but ze could sure as hell use it as a club. With a flick of zer leg, Benexx whipped the stock end of the gun up in a fast arc before bringing it crashing down directly onto Jolk’s head with a squishy thud.

  The unexpected impact caught Jolk full in the face so hard it actually bounced. Dazed, Jolk’s grip on Benexx’s wrists slacked. Ze pulled an arm free and decided it was time to stop playing nice. With all the strength ze had in zer fingers, Benexx clamped down on the one spot ze knew Jolk had no defense against. The sweet spot on the shoulder, just below the neck, that caused a seizure-inducing neural feedback loop.

  It was a low blow, unbecoming of an Atlantian warrior. But, as ze’d been reminded over and over throughout zer life, Benexx wasn’t a warrior. Zer was just a bearer. The poor, defenseless thing. As Jolk’s arm went into spasms, and the look of shock and betrayal spread across zer face, Benexx felt a fleeting moment of pity. Which lasted just long enough for zer to remember what Jolk intended for zer should ze lose.

  Benexx sent the butt of the rifle crashing into Jolk’s face again, for good measure.

  With one arm temporarily paralyzed and zer brain reeling from both oxygen starvation and multiple impacts, Jolk’s resistance faded fast. Enough that Benexx was able to get on top and pin zer shoulders down without releasing zer deathgrip on Jolk’s neck.

  And a deathgrip is exactly what it was. The fact that no one had yet come to intervene meant that nobody else knew Jolk was down here getting zer ass kicked. Ze had probably been assigned a guard shift, and decided to take the opportunity to extract zer revenge.

  Benexx had never killed anyone before. Hadn’t killed anything before, excluding fish ze’d caught. But ze didn’t have a choice now. Ze’d committed to killing Jolk the moment ze leapt off the rock. If ze let Jolk go, zer window of escape closed. Even if ze left Jolk unconscious on the floor, ze’d soon wake and sound the alarm that Benexx had slipped away.

  And ze had to do it with zer bare hands. Sure, Benexx could just blow Jolk’s head off with the rifle, but the sound of a gunshot would echo through the entire cave system and bring everyone else running.

  Jolk’s mouth gasped for air like a landed fish, while zer skinglow started to fire random static instead of coordinated patterns of stripes and dots. Zer pupils fell out of synch, one constricting to a wavy slit, the other almost fully dilated. Benexx had to look away, but ze didn’t slacken zer grip, even as the muscles in zer forearms burned and cramped under the strain.

  After an interminably long time, Jolk’s writhing ebbed. Benexx stole a look down at zer handiwork, and immediately wished ze hadn’t. Jolk’s eyes stared off lifelessly in different directions, while zer flesh had taken on the pallid, featureless color of dead skin, save for a handful of individual chromatophores misfiring like broken pixels on an old fashioned digital screen.

  Returned to sender.

  With effort, Benexx uncurled zer fingers
from Jolk’s neck and covered zer own mouth to keep from screaming at the horror of it. Regret washed over zer like a wave, and zer first instinct was to start CPR just in case it wasn’t too late to revive zer victim.

  In the end, zer own survival instinct won out over Benexx’s altruism. Ze needed to get moving. Every moment down here was a moment ze should be spending getting further away.

  “You chose this,” ze whispered to the corpse. Emotion overtook zer, and Benexx allowed zerself a few moments to flicker with grief. Ze felt sick and thought ze might vomit. But ze couldn’t afford to lose the scarce calories and nutrients in zer stomach, so ze had to breath deeply until the nausea passed.

  It was time to move. Ze grabbed Jolk’s body by the feet and dragged it out of the line of sight of the hole in the ceiling, back behind the same rock cropping ze’d hidden behind and left the legs lying in view. Any cursory inspection from above would just show Benexx sleeping behind a rock. They’d have to come all the way down into the chamber to discover the truth. Ze grabbed the small bag of food and other supplies and tossed the strap over a shoulder.

  Then, ze retrieved the rifle, spent a moment refamiliarizing zerself with its controls, then checked that it was loaded. It had a full magazine, but the idiot hadn’t even cycled a round into the chamber. It had never been a threat during the fight. Benexx just shook zer head and thanked Cuut for sending zer such an unbelievably incompetent enemy for zer test, then pulled the charging handle back and quietly slid a fresh round home. Ze checked that the safety catch was engaged, extinguished the flashlight at the rifle’s end, and slung it over zer other shoulder.

  Freedom beckoned at the other end of the rope. Benexx was grateful for it, but as ze wrapped zer tired hands around the cord and the extra weight of the pack and rifle settled into zer shoulders, ze knew the climb out presented no small challenge.