by S. Cushaway
“I’m going to be—”
“. . . take mine. Eat it. Why won’t you just take some? Do you hate me that much?”
“—free,” she said. And died.
"Mariyah . . . was it because of Mi’et? I didn’t mean to . . ."
Thoughts, memories, swarmed around like bloated flies. They landed, laid eggs in her eyes. The eggs hatched and squirmed into life—writhing maggots, celebrating in the rot of her body. Her fingers turned to dust in his palm and blew away. Red blood slid over his throat, down his chest, onto his ribs.
The cell door opened slowly, as if it had all of time and space to unbolt first. When it creaked to a stop, the empty space between it beckoned him away from Mariyah’s decaying body. Just beyond that open door, Madev smiled, his blue-black skin gone gray, the flesh of his huge belly twisting as if something—
. . . maggots . . .?
—moved underneath.
“Go on, eat. She’d want you to do it, wouldn’t she? She won’t feel it now, Kaitar. And look at you, my Besh. You are hungry," Madev said. Not with his mouth, but with his throat, which opened wider, a red river sliding between the gaping flesh. Deep down there, in that salt and water, a body floated, churning in the currents, lifeless. Skinned.
“I can’t see. It’s dark.” Madev’s slashed throat moved, whispering. “Kaitar, are you still alive?”
“Leave me alone!”
“Kaitar.” The dead Sulari prince held his arms out, beckoning. They sprouted into twisting, pale branches, swarming with flies. More poured out from his bleeding throat. “You hated me so much. Why don’t you take mine? Just eat.”
“No! I won’t!”
The tree that had been Madev laughed. “You are a liar.” Dry branches slid around Kaitar, digging into his skin, bruising as they pulled him closer. “Enderi. Al’Daree. They sound alike, do they not?”
Flies swarmed against his cheek, their buzzing almost as loud as—
. . . the Draggin. . .
—he pulled back, struggling, crying tears tasting of dust. They poured down his face as his jaw snapped against the pale trunk. Worms crawled into his ear, tickling down inside his brain, and he heard his father’s voice hissing, “Don’t tell anyone. Promise me! Madev will never let you go if he finds out. I’ll slit your throat if you tell . . .”
One gnarled twig—bone-white—dug hard into his shoulder.
“Kaitar? Katey?”
Firebrand!
“Wake him up. He’s supposed to get that report from Gairy, and we’re almost there.”
She knows! She’s got a cage waiting!
“Katey?”
“Get your fucking hands off. Stop . . . stop!” Kaitar’s eyes blazed open and he hissed, flinging Romano’s hand away, body twitching with every thump of his frantic heart. “Stop touching me!”
The Junker and Enforcer stared in silence as the rover drifted to a stop. Dust settled around them. Kaitar stifled a groan, doubling over at the rising urge to vomit. He swallowed hard, forcing down the bile. Each breath came in a ragged little jerk, threatening to turn to sobs.
Calm the fuck down. Calm down. Just a dream. Just another dream. That’s all.
“You okay?”
“Shit.” Kaitar’s throat had gone raw. “You don’t have to go poking your fingers into me.”
The Junker managed a weak smile. “Not on a first date, huh? You’re damned jumpy. What, got a headache or something?”
“Yeah.” Kaitar dug in his pocket and clutched the cigarette case, fingers trembling with an audible click click of fingernails against the tin. “Just the heat, I guess. And this rover. The noise.”
And the Sulari sitting behind me, glaring right into my skull. And you, Romano. And Neiro. And Bywater and—
“You sounded just like a threk hissing.” Romano said. “Must be a pretty bad headache.”
Leigh frowned. “Kaitar?”
“What?” He jerked the case free and opened it. One left. The whole two weeks' supply gone in two days except one, lone cigarette. His teeth ground together as he fought the compulsion to hurl it away.
“Are you sick? If you are, tell me now, because we’ll have to see if Gairy has any Harper’s Hand on him.”
“No, I’m not sick, I don’t need Harper’s Hand or any other medicine.”
“All right,” Leigh said, suspicion written clearly on her face.
Kaitar flipped the tin from one hand to the other, counting each pause between the pull of his lungs. After a moment, his rapid pulse calmed to its normal rhythm.
“Hey, Katey, if you don’t need Harper’s Hand, you could ask for some of Gairy’s whiskey,” Romano said. “Maybe a drink would help.”
Kaitar shrugged, head lolling back until all he could see was the cloudless sky. “Uh-huh, maybe.”
Nothing’s going to help except getting this all over with. Nothing.
Making a pretense of massaging temples as they drove parallel to a long, uneven ravine, Kaitar eyed the familiar break in the land. He remembered the place well. It had been several years since he’d been in that region; the northern bend of the Yellow Gully had been one of the first he’d mapped for Neiro. It had also been the one he’d nearly broken his leg trying to climb down after leaving the Al’Daree manse. Lost, with no understanding of how to tell north from south, he’d wandered for weeks until he’d found Dogton. The little town had only been thirty miles from Madev’s palace, and he’d been deeply ashamed when he learned that bit of information months later.
Kaitar leaned forward in the seat and pointed north. “Romano, you can take the rover down and over this gully about a quarter-mile from here. The banks aren’t as steep.” He uncapped his canteen and took a drink, thinking how good it would be to drive past this place and never lay eyes on it again.
Romano didn’t alter course.
“Hey, I said north. Not here.”
“There are too damned many gullies and gulches and dry beds around here,” Romano said. “Why did Neiro have us come this way? It might have been faster to meet a team of Scrappers at Bywater.”
“It’s a standard contract.” Leigh kneaded her shoulder, sighing. “Scrappers won’t meet anyone, anywhere. You have to go to them. They used to be more flexible, but changed their policies. Glasstown tried to cheat them on some payments, and now everyone has to agree to Scrapper terms beforehand. This is one.”
“Oh,” Romano said. “Well, it’s a pain in the ass. And you know what? I’m not going north. We can take this gully right here.”
Kaitar shook his head. “Don’t! You—”
Romano mashed the accelerator and they rocketed toward the gulch, dust billowing over them, thick and choking.
“Stop!” Kaitar coughed. “No! You stupid asshole!” He blinked against the grit, his eyes burning. Through the haze, he could just make out the lip of the gully.
“Romano, stop!” Fear clipped Leigh’s sharp command. “Now!”
“Fuck that and hang on!” Romano hauled on the wheel with both hands, his face set in an expression of wild defiance.
The vehicle slid, tottering on the lip of the gulch. Earth tumbled under the front tires as they broke into empty air. The nose slammed down, tires digging in until the Draggin spun sideways. The vehicle careened down toward the gully floor, ramming into it; the impact rattled all the way up Kaitar’s spine. His fingernails scraped along the roll cage, desperately seeking a grip, and he tasted blood in his mouth where his teeth had nearly bitten through his tongue.
Romano whooped as the rover fishtailed wildly, rocked up on two wheels, and thudded down again, still accelerating.
“You’re going to get us killed!” Leigh vaulted out of the backseat. She grabbed at the wheel, trying to tear Romano’s hands away. The rover hit the opposite bank and she fell back, thudding against the water barrels. Kaitar winced.
“C’mon!” Romano grinned like a madman. “C’mon, son of a—”
“We’re going to end up like that damned Harper wom
an!” Kaitar braced himself for the inevitable, legs stiff, knuckles white. Engine squealing, solar rails flashing, the Draggin slid backward and hung, swaying parallel with the ground. For a heartbeat, Kaitar’s stomach swayed, too, as if it had floated right up into his throat.
I’m going to die. Of all the stupid ways to go, here it is.
Spinning against the loose soil, the tires slipped, almost losing their precarious grip with the earth as sand sprayed high into the air. The engine shrieked like a banshee as the Draggin heaved over the bank. Directly in their path, a large boulder jutted from the earth. Romano hauled on the wheel, cutting a hard right. The Draggin tottered on two wheels again as rocks and clods of sand rained down. Kaitar shielded his eyes with his forearm as the rover came level with the earth. A hard chunk of packed sand smacked him on top of the head, but he was too stunned to notice the pain. The Draggin bumped along, gaining speed until they were tearing along the open desert.
Romano whooped again, and laughed. “See? Told you we could do it!”
Kaitar rubbed his bruised head. When he tried to speak, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as though it had been glued there. He gave up and dug around in his pocket for the last cigarette.
Leigh glared at Romano, her face a red mask of dust. “No more stunts like that! No more! Next time you listen to the scout’s directions, or I will arrest you and take you back to Neiro to explain how you disobeyed an Enforcer’s orders afield.”
“I’m a Junker under Foundry rules, not Neiro or Avaeliis,” Romano said, face flushed. “And this is my vehicle. I drive her where I want.”
Kaitar clamped the cigarette between his lips, struck a match with fumbling fingers, and inhaled deeply. “This is one time I agree with a Sulari.”
Leigh’s black eyes narrowed in silent rage before she trained her gaze on the Junker once more. “You are contracted by Neiro Precaius and under my command, Romano. You could have gotten us killed back there. Your boy could have been left fatherless.”
Romano snorted. “I know what I’m doing. Hell, Erid could have made that climb. All Junkers are trained to handle these sand rovers over any kind of terrain.” He stretched, one hand on the wheel, the other behind his head. “Let’s see you do that on a mule, huh, Katey? This is why no one rides them anymore. Good for pack animals or driving a wagon, but nothing beats technology for getting you where you want to go. And having fun doing it.”
Kaitar almost rammed his fist into his handsome, smiling face. “Fuck this rover. Fuck your stunt driving. We could have been at the well by now if we were on some good mules.”
“But not carrying this much gear”.
“Molly’s better company than a damned machine, even if she can’t carry two barrels of water.”
Romano quirked a brow. “Molly? You named it?”
Kaitar turned away to hide the flush darkening his face. “It’s just something to call her besides ‘mule.’ Molly means a female mule, that’s all. Your boy named his dog,” he added. “You give him a hard time, too?”
“You’re a strange guy, you know that? Get a girl if you want company, Kaitar. Get a rover if you want to get somewhere fast.” Romano drummed the steering wheel. “Hey, tell you what. I can have a few of the boys from the Foundry build you one just like this model, if you want.”
“No, I don’t want a rover. I don’t want a girl. I don’t want anything, except to get this job done.”
“Why are you always in such a crappy mood?” The Junker frowned anxiously. “Is it me? Did I say something to piss you off?
“No. Just drop it.” Kaitar shifted in the seat, wishing he had the balls to throw himself out of the vehicle and risk a cracked skull. It would be almost worth that slow death just to get away from Romano’s stupidity.
“It was me, wasn’t it? I didn’t mean to offend you by offering you a rover or—”
“It’s not the rover,” Leigh interrupted. “They are useful, yes,” she went on, voice dropping back to its usual, cold control. “But Kaitar must have his reasons for preferring to do his job on horseback. Shyiine warriors always ride horses.”
“I’m not a damned Shyiine warrior! I’m a fucking Dogton scout! That’s all I am.”
“I wasn’t insinuating you were anything other than a scout. But Shyiine are known to be expert horsemen, aren’t they? They know how to keep their horses alive in the Sand Belt. That’s how they get across it, isn’t it? “
“No idea, Leigh.” Kaitar watched the landscape speed by.
“Neiro should send you out to speak to them, either to negotiate or find that Toros shard.”
“What makes you think they’d talk to me?” He puffed the cigarette. “I wasn’t born out there. I don’t speak their language. They’d be more likely to kill me than negotiate or help me scout for that piece of Toros.”
“But you could make it across couldn’t you?”
Romano pounded on the steering wheel again, tapping out some off-rhythm tune in time with his words. “You guys need to stop the constant fighting. If you were at the Foundry—”
“I’m speaking with the scout about something important to Dogton,” Leigh interrupted. “And since you’re not under Dogton jurisdiction, it’s not your concern.”
“But I’m the driver, and the driver is sick of hearing you two bitch at each other,” Romano shot back. “Wish Frell was here instead.”
Leigh ignored him. “Kaitar, you are Shyiine. Isn’t that reason enough they’d speak to you?”
“Just come out and say you want me gone, Leigh. You wouldn’t be the first to tell me. You won’t be the last.”
“I only want to know why they wouldn’t negotiate with one of their own kind. Would they speak to you?”
Kaitar pursed his lips and blew smoke in her direction. “No, to both your questions. I don’t think I could make it across, and I don’t think the Shyiine would speak to me. Why are you interrogating me over this?”
“Gren told me some of the slaves escaped across the Belt. He said that after the Sulari fell, most of the others left, too.”
“And probably died. Either they ran out of food and water or got lost until something ate them out there. Or maybe they did make it, and the Shyiine killed them for trespassing.” A coil of his black hair whipped out in the wind, almost smacking Leigh in the face. She batted it away as if it were a particularly disgusting fly.
“How do you know? Did any ever make it back to tell you that, Kaitar? What makes you think the Shyiine would kill their own people just because they’d once been slaves?”
A sour smirk inched over his face. “My father told me. He was born out there. Got captured when he was a boy no older than Zres.”
“Glad those days are over,” Romano mumbled under his breath “The Union isn’t always happy with how Avaeliis wants to run its towns out here, but at least they outlawed the slave trade.”
“Yes, I agree,” Leigh said. “It was a terrible thing and should never be repeated. But it doesn’t change the fact Shyiine are still a threat to the towns as much as that piece of Toros in the Belt is. Kaitar, did your father tell you that slaves who tried to return would be killed?”
He told me that anyone as weak-hearted as me would have their throat slit by a real Shyiine warrior.
But he only shrugged, the nasty grin making his face ache. “He said there is no room for mercy or weakness in a Shyiine.”
“And they’d consider you weak?”
“They don’t like anyone not born out there,” Kaitar replied, sick of questions and hinted accusations. “That’s all I know. They’d kill me, or you, or Romano if they had the chance. One almost caught me once, about eight years ago. I sure as hell am not going to go ride out and give them the chance again, even if I haven’t seen any sign of a Shyiine war party since they torched Nal’ves.”
A little of the color drained from Leigh’s face. She reached for her canteen, sipped, and swallowed hard before speaking. “And they would burn Dogton, given the chance. Or
Pirahj, if N’jian Printz hadn’t bolstered the defenses there. Did your father tell you they tried to destroy Pirahj once?”
“No. My father didn’t tell me shit about anything except how to use yatreg in the fighting pits so the Sulari could jack off to all that death.” He looked away. “Leave me alone, Leigh. I didn’t torch your little squatter camp. Heh, yes, I know where you come from. Who do you think found Nal’ves after it got razed?”
Leigh didn’t reply.
“Oh no. You wanted to stick the screws to me. Now you get a little of it back. Who do you think sent a call to Gren that a Nal’ves refugee was heading in his direction? Got a bit lost, didn’t you?” He laughed harshly, the sound dry and burning as pepper bloom smoke.
Not as lost as I did trying to find Dogton, though.
“I’m a scout,” he went on. “Not some prowling Shyiine warrior. I was doing this job when you were still running around with a thumb in your mouth. If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.”
Leigh pushed herself up onto her knees and jabbed a long, slim finger at his face. “I hope that is not some veiled threat, Kaitar Besh.”
“I don’t make veiled threats. Lay off. I’m too old to bicker with a greenhorn over rumors.”
“Hey, how long do Shyiine live, anyway?” Romano asked. “I saw that old picture of you hanging in the Bin that Hubert kept from the Sulari days. You look the same now as you did thirty years ago. You’re already a legend around the border towns, you know that?”
“And a slave,” a small voice in the back of his mind—Madev’s—reminded him. “Always that aren’t you, my Besh?”
Kaitar hunched down in the seat, weary. He pulled his collar up over his nose. “If we hit another gully, do me a favor and push me out. I’d rather fall out and crack my head on a rock next time.”
Depth
Flies and hornets buzzed in constant drone, settling on the lip of the open-faced well and vying for a drink. A few insects had swooped lower in the attempt only to dive too far. Several floated on the surface, dead. From where he sat, it looked to Gairy like they were drifting along a colorless sky. It struck him as ironic; maybe the poor things had thought they were soaring into the great beyond rather than dooming themselves. Had that been what happened to his father? Did he think he was reaching for the stars that night when—