Vessel

by Lisa T. Cresswell

  “Really?”

  “Yes, we can leave tomorrow if you like.”

  “But what about the reading? You said you wanted to teach others.”

  “I can do that anywhere. It’d probably be safer to put some distance between Gora and us anyway. You’re right about that.”

  I knew why I loved Recks. He always reminded me when I least expected it that my opinions had value too. I hugged his neck tight and whispered my thanks in his ear. There couldn’t be a more perfect husband for me.

  “I’ll never make you do something you don’t want to. Remember that,” he said.

  I nodded.

  “But you have to speak up. Tell me what you’re thinking. All right?”

  “I’ll try.”

  We stayed there a few more days until our food ran low. Recks felt better, so we packed our satchels and left early one morning before sunrise. I was sorry to leave the beautiful castle, but I could hardly believe we were going to the ocean. Once again, I was the wild bird escaping, eager to spread my wings and fly.

  We followed the map in my head south all that day and the next. Recks never questioned my sense of direction. He simply followed where the map took me. The Mediterranean was still hundreds of miles away, but I swear I smelled it sometimes.

  The countryside became even more rugged and mountainous the further we traveled. I led us around Gora toward the ancient city of Budapest. The smell of the fires burning in Gora stunk up the air for miles. The farther we were away from it, the better.

  Recks stayed quiet much of the time, an easy-going traveling companion ever wary of danger. Again, we kept to the forest most of the time, coming down to the road only long enough to use the bridges to cross the larger streams or search abandoned houses for useful goods. Sometimes we chatted as we hiked.

  “We’ll have to cross the Danube River when we get to the city,” I said.

  “We can’t go around the city? It’d be better to avoid lots of people.”

  “The river’s too wide to cross without a bridge or a boat. Most of the rural areas don’t have bridges anymore.”

  “How many people live there?”

  “It was once in the millions,” I said, checking the data in my head. “Now it’s probably in the thousands, most on the south side. The bridge might be guarded. I don’t know.”

  “And the Reticents? Are they there?”

  “Oh yes, but they may have gone to Gora to see what happened.”

  “Then we should move at night.”

  I nodded, silent in my acceptance.

  “And we should make sure your head is covered.”

  “With what?” My billa came to mind. I felt like Recks wanted me to wear something more than a hat.

  “We’ll find something. Don’t worry. I won’t make you cut your hair again.”

  We hung by the outskirts of the city until dark but saw no one. It was strangely quiet. The buildings loomed like abandoned mountains of crumbling concrete against the sunset. Recks wanted to look for clothing, so we poked around in a few buildings. We happened upon a department store, the glass window panes shattered across the sidewalk. We climbed into one of the openings, glass crunching under our boots. Looted, the store lay in ruins. Clothes, display racks, boxes, and trash lay everywhere covered in a fine layer of dust. In the back, Recks found some hooded shirts like the ones we wore in Tingrad, and we put them on. Recks pulled the strings on my hood to tighten it until I had a tiny hole to see out of.

  “That’s better,” he said.

  “I’m hungry. Can we eat here before we go?”

  “Maybe. Wonder if this store had any packaged food … ”

  “It would be ancient by now.”

  “And probably looted. I think I might have something left in my pack.”

  In one of the abandoned houses along the way, Recks had collected a stash of little canned fish. They were so salty and smelly I had trouble choking them down. I hoped he didn’t have any more.

  “I’ve been saving this,” he said, unwrapping a square of hard white cheese.

  “Cheese? Did Soren give you that?”

  “He’s truly a prince among men.” Recks smiled as he cut off a hunk with his small knife and handed it to me. The aroma made my mouth water as the first buttery bite melted on my tongue. Thinking of how good it would be with meat, I remembered my jerky, and pulled it out of my pack to share.

  We enjoyed our meal together in the hulk of the department store and decided to nap a bit before trying to cross the river. The bridge was nearly a mile across the Danube, and we’d be out in the open the entire time. Recks figured the darker, the better our odds would be. I lay my head on a pile of clothes, Recks close beside me with his protective arm draped over me.

  I didn’t even know I’d fallen asleep until he woke me by tickling my neck. I sat up and rubbed my shoulder where it’d gone numb on the hard floor.

  “Time to go?”

  “Yes, we’d better. It’s going to take us a few hours to cross the city. Don’t want to waste the whole night.”

  The constellation of the Archer sat low in the sky when we set out, the crisp starlight our only light in the cold night. Mother’s Love was oddly absent, the night blacker than usual. I looked at Recks, who was also looking up at the sky.

  “It’s good luck. The darkness will help.” Recks squeezed my hand. I held tight and didn’t let go for several blocks. The darkness felt strange, as if the sun had truly gone out. I was uneasy without really knowing why. As we neared the bridge, we saw tiny fires burning on the other side of the river, so far away they could’ve been mistaken for fireflies in summer.

  The cool wind shifted, blowing into our faces now, carrying the smell of something terrible with it.

  “I know this place. I’ve been here before. I always thought of it as a city of dead,” said Recks.

  “Why is that?”

  “So many remains. Millions of people lived here. When they starved, no one was left to bury them. Their bones fill the streets.”

  “Maybe we could go another way.”

  “You said the Danube flows for miles. This is the quickest place to cross.”

  “But—”

  “You can’t swim?”

  “I can if I have to, but not that far.” We could see the width of the river, the flames dancing on the surface in their reflections. It was broader than any river I’d ever seen.

  “We shouldn’t have to swim, but we may find ourselves in need of a quick exit.” With his arm around me, Recks pulled me along with him. “It’ll get worse before it gets better, Alana, but I’ll be with you, all right?”

  “You’ve been this way before?”

  “Yes, years ago when I first came west.”

  “And you crossed the bridge?”

  “Yes; in those days, there were toll takers. Probably still are.”

  “You paid?”

  “Well, our guide paid something. He had a personal relationship, some arrangement for safe passage.”

  “You never told me how you came to be in the West.”

  Recks laughed soft and low.

  “There are many things for us to discuss, but now’s not the time. We must be quiet.” He touched my lips with his fingers as he caressed my face. His pace quickened, and I matched it with my own. I wanted this to be over. I wanted to be somewhere safe and warm and to forget about this place like a bad dream.

  The buildings grew taller as we got closer to the river, some so high they blocked the stars. Mother’s Love suddenly flashed a brilliant red-orange above the city, illuminating the darkness and then fading away. I caught my breath. In the light, I saw them: thousands of skeletons lining the streets. I gasped at the piles of bones and the hollow eyes staring at nothing. Recks hugged me tighter and pushed me along, focused on the bridge. It was a few blocks away now. The lights on the far side glittered like the eyes of a thousand hungry beasts.

  At the en
trance, we paused by a crumbling stone wall in the shadows. Recks strained to see what was at the far end without standing in the middle of the road. The old lamps that once illuminated the bridge still stood. They would’ve helped tremendously if there’d been any electricity at all.

  “Looks quiet down there. I can’t hold your hand here. They’ll suspect you’re a woman right away.”

  “Who’s ‘they’?”

  “The toll takers. If they ask, I’ll say you’re my little brother. Stay quiet and let me do the talking if you can. I’ll tell them you’re mute.”

  “That’s a good idea.” My voice shook. This place terrified me—the horrible smells, the dankness of the water, the inexplicable blackness of the sky. Mother Sun had abandoned this place long ago and perhaps all who entered as well. I kept looking up for some sign of Mother’s Love. Recks tugged my chin a little in his direction.

  “Hey,” he said. “Don’t worry. We’ll be out of the city by morning.”

  “Promise?” I looked to his face when he hesitated, wishing I could see him better in the darkness.

  “I promise.” He pulled on the drawstrings of my hood once more, to make himself feel better I suspected, and then kissed me. His scent filled my nose, blocking out everything for the few seconds I needed to compose myself. He laid his forehead on mine and looked deep into my eyes. “If anything happens, I want you to take care of yourself first. Don’t worry about me. You’re everything to me.”

  “But—”

  “Let’s go.” Recks pulled away from me like it took a great deal of effort. He walked across the bridge without waiting for me. I followed him without hesitation. I wanted to know what he meant by “don’t worry about me,” as if I’d ever leave him in harm’s way.

  I hurried to keep up with him, my heart climbing higher in my throat with every step as the lights at the far side of the bridge grew brighter and brighter. I found myself running. There was no one on the length of the bridge, but shapes moved on the other side. Like me, I think Recks wanted to be there already, to have this over quickly. As we neared the far end, the tiny flickering lights morphed into huge pyres of burning rubbish. It was the same stench we’d smelled earlier, only now it was enough to gag me. I’m sure if the night hadn’t been so dark, we would’ve seen black columns of smoke billowing above us. I could certainly smell it. Recks slowed his gait and I matched it.

  “Catch your breath,” he whispered to me. “Be ready.”

  We faced a barricade of junk cars. The rusty metal frames were stacked three-high with a single passageway between them. The only way across was through the wall of cars. A figure stepped out of the opening with a torch in hand. Too late, I recognized the man approaching Recks. It was Tiber.

  “No!” I screamed, forgetting my orders to stay mute. Tiber’s club swung over his head, connecting to Recks’s jaw with a sickening crunch, knocking him down. With no weapons but my hands and feet, I ran at Tiber, ready to tear his eyes out. I jumped on his back, ripping at his face. I knew from the warm slickness on my hands that I’d drawn blood from his craggy skin, but I didn’t stop clawing at him. He threw me off after a brief struggle. My hood fell back as I hit the pavement and he shoved me down with his boot.

  “You?” asked Tiber, incredulously. I screamed and writhed, trying to free myself.

  There were others now, young men going through Recks’s clothes, taking his satchel, and fighting over the contents. My screams drew their attention. Tiber looked over at Recks.

  “Is that … ? It can’t be … ”

  Tiber yanked me up and pinned my arms behind me in his vice grip. How could he be so strong? He pushed me in front of him, closer to Recks.

  “Turn him over,” Tiber ordered.

  The young men, not Reticents but street urchins, did as they were told. Tiber sputtered when he saw Recks’s bloody face.

  “Cut his throat and throw him over the side,” he barked as he dragged me toward the city.

  “No!” I threw myself down, not caring if my arms broke in the process. Tiber lost his grip, and I landed in a heap on the pavement, skinning my already scarred face. I scrambled to Recks on my hands and knees too late to stop the knife across his neck. He never moved, never cried out. Perhaps he was already dead. His life flowed out in front of me and across my hands which clutched at this throat, trying in vain to stop him from leaving me.

  Horrible, gasping, wailing sobs exploded from my core. The only true, beautiful thing I’d ever known was taken from me for no reason at all. My mind couldn’t grasp it, wouldn’t accept it. I hugged my arms around his body, wishing beyond all hope and reason that he would live, or that I might follow him wherever he went.

  Someone pried me off Recks’s body. I don’t know who. I’d already retreated to that hiding place deep within, the safe place from this world’s terrors. Recks was gone, and I wouldn’t be here without him.

  Someone carried me or I floated in an uncomfortable position for what seemed like an eternity. I wasn’t sure how long it was before I was dumped on the cold, unmoving ground. I lay there as someone tied my hands behind me, doing my best to become stone. I wanted it to end. Mother, just let it all end here. Please.

  “Alana? Cat got your tongue?”

  A voice I knew but couldn’t place broke through the darkness I cocooned myself in.

  “Alana, there’s more than one way to skin a cat. You’re the Vessel.”

  Only one person ever spoke to me like that, and he was probably dead. Maybe I’d accessed a memory of Kinder, playing over in my head like so many times before. Angry, I lashed out in my mind.

  Go away, old man! I am no one’s Vessel. I am Alana. A name no one calls me.

  A hand smacked my face, not hard like Master Dine’s hand, but persistent, forcing me to open my eyes. I searched through my blurry vision, looking in vain for my assailant, before I finally focused on the face in front of me. Kinder’s eyes blazed like icy blue rivers in the firelight. I wasn’t dreaming. He was here after all.

  “Leave me be,” I told him. He stopped the incessant tapping on my face. I tried moving away from him but found myself bound tightly to a post. Kinder was tied too but managed to wiggle a hand free. The sounds of the street grew louder as I became more aware of my surroundings. It was dark, the air filled with shouts and the unmistakable scent of a bonfire.

  “A Cleansing?” I asked, not really caring.

  “Yes, I think they mean to do away with us.”

  “Good. I want to be done away with.”

  “What’s happened to you?”

  “Recks … ” I couldn’t continue. Tears choked my throat. I knew Kinder probably didn’t care. He never seemed to care about anyone.

  “He’s gone?”

  I nodded as I rubbed my already raw nose on my knee.

  “Thank goodness he protected you this long. He knew you were special, that you have something to accomplish.”

  “He loved me, in spite of everything that was wrong with me.”

  “No, not in spite of it. Because of it.” The words sounded otherworldly coming from Kinder. He’d never been this way. “Alana, there are many things I never told you. I thought I’d have more time.”

  I didn’t answer. I only stared at his face, which was softer and more compassionate than I’d ever seen it.

  “How to explain it all now, I don’t really know.”

  “It won’t matter soon.”

  “I know this sounds crazy, but this world’s coming to an end. The solar storms are just a prelude to a supernova. It’s almost time.”

  “Our sun can’t supernova. You know that.” He taught me that fact himself.

  “I am … how to put this? I’m not of this world or even this solar system. And neither are you.”

  I stared at him unfeeling. “I always knew you were a little off, Kinder, but that’s impossible.”

  “Why?”

  “Because in all of human history, in all the
ir searching for intelligent life, they never found anyone.”

  “They never knew. We kept our distance, but when their sun started to die, we came to glean what we could before it was destroyed. You were sent here as a child so you could learn their ways intimately. You were never supposed to be sold into slavery. I was sent to find you, get you back on track. We thought you might be dead. I nearly died myself. You saw the state I was in when Tow caught us.”

  “I don’t believe you. If you had the technology to travel through space, surely you could’ve tracked me. Besides, what would an advanced civilization want with Earth’s pitiful technology?”

  “It’s not so much their technology as much as their humanness, their emotions. We’ve lost them. You contain them. They’re within you. Not only do you hold vast stores of information, you embody love and anger and sadness. You are wholly human.”

  “But you’re saying I’m not human.”

  “I’m saying you’ve become human. We gave you the form of a child, and you’ve grown into a mature human.”

  Spears of undulating purple and orange light shot across the sky. Kinder gazed upward.

  “Our calculations put the supernova at any time now.”

  He’d gone mad, but who could blame him? I was probably mad myself. None of this made any sense, so I played along with him.

  “What will happen?”

  “You know what a supernova means. The sun’s core will collapse. It will explode, and this solar system will be incinerated.” He couldn’t be serious. Was he trying to tell me something secretly?

  “And how were you planning to escape this inferno?”

  “They were coming to get us, Alana. They still may.”

  I looked at the rainbow of colors in the sky now, growing brighter with hues of yellow, green, and blue.

  “I don’t see any spaceships.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t. They wouldn’t be close enough to see.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

  “Because you wouldn’t have believed it. You would’ve thought I was insane.”

  I laughed, but there was no joy in it. “Kinder, I’ve always thought you were insane. It wouldn’t have made much difference.”