by Zaide Bishop
“Brought those skulls in the night and left them here. As warning.” Twenty-One indicated the skulls.
“We had boar on the islands,” Fox said, cradling Raven closer. “They weren’t that smart.”
“Why haven’t you just killed them?” Whiskey asked. “You have guns. They don’t even have hands.”
“Spider says we should pity them. That they’re no different to us.”
“They have some differences,” Fox muttered, turning back toward the village center. Twenty-One followed them, murmuring to the child in her arms, and when they reached the throne they found Spider holding up a tiny tablet.
“No signal,” she muttered to herself, squinting toward the horizon. “No bloody signal. Going to have to go all the way up to the bloody tower...”
“Spider,” Twenty-One said. “The pigs came in the night. They’ve left human skulls on the road.”
The older woman’s eyes turned hard. “How many?”
Twenty-One shrugged helplessly.
“Four,” Fox said. “Four skulls, four of my tribe-mates who killed their piglet. That’s what it means, isn’t it?”
Spider nodded. “I’d say that’s about the size of it.”
“We should just kill them.” Whiskey made a sweeping gesture. “End it.”
Spider sneered, lowering herself into her seat on the blue throne. “Kill them, huh? Like you killed the Elikai? Don’t look at me like that, girl. Those pigs are just like you. Children raised in labs like livestock. It’s just a different kind of racism. Besides, they have as much right to live as you do. And those bloody designer animals and prehistoric beasties. Man made themselves gods in the end, creating and uncreating and using. Then they created their own deaths and complained about it the whole bloody time. Every step to extinction they whined and bitched and blamed each other.
“Well, now I’m the only God left. God of the servers. And I’m telling you not to kill each other, okay?”
Whiskey clenched her fist, her knuckles and palms aching. “Do you want to know what happened to the last scientist who thought they could tell me what to do?”
“Did you kill them? I bet you killed them.” Spider looked unimpressed. “Just like you killed the Elikai. How did that work out for you, you little murderer?”
Fox put a hand on Whiskey’s shoulder. To calm her, no doubt, but she shrugged him off.
“We didn’t know any better,” Fox said.
“And you still don’t,” Spider said. “Which is why you have me, and you’ll bloody well do what you’re told.”
“What’s going on?” Charlie appeared with India, Tango and Tare.
“A short lesson on ethics,” Spider said, picking at the grit under her fingernails.
Whiskey bristled. She was not going to go down this path again, bullied by the dregs of the world before. The final parasites, still clinging desperately to a world that was trying to shake them off.
“Would it be possible,” Charlie asked, “for us to see the servers?”
Spider considered her a moment, then rose with spindly grace. “Yes. But you must be careful what you touch.”
Whiskey wanted to walk away, but Fox motioned for her to follow. She relented, and they trailed after Spider to the largest of the village’s buildings. It had been painted with bright murals on the outside, but inside it was gray and lifeless. Spider opened sealed doors that led down a wide flight of stairs into a basement level. There was a sense of space down there, as if the building was much larger underground than it was on top.
They descended into an almost arctic cool. The servers were like refrigerators—large and humming, rectangular and gray. There were hundreds of them behind a chain-link fence, and in front of that sat a row of computers on metal desks. One wall held a bookshelf completely packed with computer and electronics manuals. Some were water-damaged or filthy, clearly suffering in the elements before Spider rescued them. The other wall was stacked high with computers and laptops. These were not connected to anything, simply stored at the ready.
“It’s so cold down here,” Charlie said.
“Yes, they don’t like the heat or moisture,” Spider replied. “This room is always powered first. Before anything else. It has generators and fail-safes. This is our most sacred space.”
“Why?” Fox asked. He gripped the chain-link fence with one hand, looking in at the servers.
“Because they have all the knowledge of the world before on them,” Spider said. “Surgery, chemistry, physics, space travel, the human genome. Your people will need this, once I am gone, unless you want to go back to square one.”
Charlie studied her. “Do the servers say how to make the viruses that killed your people?”
Spider bobbed her head. “Yes.”
“Don’t you think it would be better if that information was...lost?”
Whiskey agreed, but Spider gave a sharp laugh. “Tell me, is it hard to kill a man? It will be hundreds of generations before there is a population big enough you need a virus to kill them. And so many tools of destruction for you to play with before then.”
Charlie frowned. “The scientists who came to our islands, they had a vaccine.”
Spider arched an eyebrow. “Really? Huh. Well. I’m immune. It was people like me with natural immunity they used to make you lot. And none of you can get it, so you won’t ever need that vaccine. I don’t suppose you kept their notes, though?”
“We lost most of what they had, but it may still be on their boat,” Charlie said.
Spider touched the keys of a nearby computer and it hummed to life.
“Do you want to watch something?” Spider asked. “A documentary on our solar system? A documentary on evolution? The server room is not open to everyone all the time. But I want you to see its value. Its power. Why it is sacred.”
“Not now. When Sugar can see,” Charlie said quietly. “When all my tribe can see.”
India was holding her elbows, shivering with cold now. “When there are blankets.”
“Later, then.” Spider motioned for them to go back upstairs. The day had started in earnest, and the sun, searing away the last of the mist, was blinding. It was a relief to feel its heat again after that chill gray world below. It was a relief to hear birds and smell animals after the monotone hum of inorganics.
The Evens were gathering with hunting rifles and binoculars, loading their gear into the back of the truck. All of them were Evens, Whiskey noted with a frown. No women at all.
“I will go with you,” she said to one of the young men. “I want to see your guns in action. I want to see these buffalo.”
He looked surprised, started to shake his head, then looked to Spider for assistance.
“No women on the hunt,” she said briskly.
“I have always hunted,” Whiskey said. “You invited us here with open hands. Do you not trust us now?”
“That’s not it.” Spider waved dismissively. “Trust has nothing to do with it. It’s about value.”
“Are we not all equal?” Charlie asked.
Spider laughed. “Of course we aren’t equal. A woman can only produce one and a third babies in a year. Two and a third, if she manages twins, but they’re rare and too damn dangerous to be worth it. A man could fertilize a new woman every single day. That makes every woman worth about three hundred men, give or take. More, if there is a lab with decent freezing capabilities. With a proper fertility clinic, one man could fertilize millions of eggs. Father millions of babies. No, you are not all equal, little fly. The women stay where it is safe.”
Whiskey felt the heat rolling through her. Blind anger. It came over her sometimes now. After they had broken her. After Kay, Ross and Jacobs had reduced her to an animal. She knew without any trace of doubt the Kai would be better off if this woman was
dead. This spider saw them as meat. Breeders. Cattle to rebuild the world.
“That is not my choice,” Whiskey said. “I am a hunter. I’m not going to stay here like a goat in a pen, safe and producing.”
“My word is law,” Spider said calmly. “I am God here. Your people would be dead if not for me.”
“I am better than every man you have,” Whiskey said coldly. “I will fight any of them, one on one. I will win, and then I will hunt whenever I please, and you will say nothing.”
“I’ve no interest in your childish competitions,” Spider said.
One of the Evens leaned on his spear. “She’s small. I can take her down easily.” He turned to Whiskey. “If I win against you, you will do as you’re told? Stay where it is safe and look after your babies? For the rest of your life.”
Whiskey’s lip twitched in amusement. “For the rest of my life.”
Charlie sighed. “Whiskey...”
“Gather the people,” Spider said to one of the women. “Two is going to fight the Varekai.”
Word spread quickly. The Kai and the Numbers gathered around the edges of the town square, close to a hundred silent bodies. The mood fluctuated. Amusement, anger, uncertainty. The Kai and the Numbers didn’t mingle. Whiskey was causing another divide in the tribes. She tried to hide her private delight.
She paced, watching Two. He was large. Powerful. His diet had been steady. He hadn’t been injured in the tsunami or spent days hiking here. He wasn’t breastfeeding. She could see his confidence in the way he held himself. He didn’t expect to lose. He hadn’t even entertained the idea.
Despite his size and superior strength, the Evens hunted with guns. The Numbers had never been at war with one another. If Two had ever killed another person, it had been someone from the world before. Whiskey was more intimate with death. She had been since November had killed herself. Since she had failed to protect Romeo, and the world had ended.
“Kneel, my son, and I will bless you,” Spider said.
Two knelt, and Spider put her palm on his forehead. “I have seen your victory. The phonetic girl will learn her place. We will have peace again. You have my blessing.”
Two rose to his feet again.
“What do we fight with?” Whiskey asked.
“No weapons,” Spider said sharply. “I will not risk you being stabbed while you have a child and more still in your future. We have antibiotics, but we don’t have a surgeon.”
Sugar put a hand on Whiskey’s shoulder and leaned in close so only she could hear him.
“Please don’t kill him,” he said with a sigh. “I know asking you not to do this is pointless, but these people helped us. Don’t start another war.”
Whiskey arched an eyebrow. “So I shouldn’t eat their children either?”
He gave her a dark look. “I’m asking nicely, Whiskey.”
“You are not my sister. I will do what is best for our people.” Her voice dropped low. “Who got us here when you were too broken to move forward? Don’t presume to know better than me, Sugar.”
He flinched away from her, and she stepped toward Two. “Come on, enough prayer and prophecy. No weapons. No killing. We’ve established the rules. Now let me show you how a Varekai fights.”
She spared a look at her sisters. Charlie looked thoughtful, India worried, but in Romeo she saw an ounce of fierce pride. Whiskey’s heart lurched. Could this fight be a seed of forgiveness between them? Her whole life, she had been trying to make up for that moment she had abandoned Romeo. That one cowardly act had been the first in a row of dominos that had seen Eden implode and led to the birth of the world.
But Romeo could not be her focus right now. Two was a head taller than her and broad across the chest. Almost as big as Xícara. Even Xícara had been scared of Whiskey, though. Two had been raised to think of women as...docile.
“When you are ready,” Spider said.
Whiskey did not wait to see if Two was. She lunged, making three quick strikes and darting around him. She caught him off guard, and he pivoted clumsily, barely feeling the hits but trying to keep track of her. She’d expected him to be faster. Fox was fast, as fast as a snake, but Whiskey could dodge him too.
Two caught her hair, and she let him keep a handful; the silky red threads tangled around his fingers. It smarted, but it was barely bleeding. Nothing in a life-or-death fight. Which Sugar had insisted this wasn’t. Whiskey knew better.
Every fight was life or death.
She slowed, though, stumbled a little, as if the pain surprised her. He came in confidently, grabbing for her again, and she ducked around him, feigning clumsiness. Even dropping to one knee briefly, and only just staggering to her feet in time to evade his hands.
She spared a brief glance at the crowd. Spider looked smug, but Whiskey’s sisters were quiet and waiting. Many of the Elikai looked sickly. She had hunted so many of them. Their littlest, Love, had been the easiest target. Only...he was dead now. Sadness rolled through her, and this time when Two reached for her, she didn’t duck away. Instead, she slammed her elbow backward into the curve just below his sternum. His breath hitched in surprise, and she pivoted, slamming her foot into the side of his head. He staggered, but she kept up with him. A knee in his throat as he dropped, another blow to the head and he was down on all fours.
She kicked his elbows out from under him and yanked his arms behind his back with a sudden, savage snarl.
She could kill him. Like a dog, like a pig, like the thousands of animals she had killed before. Flesh was flesh. A child of Eden was no more difficult to kill than any other animal.
She met Spider’s gaze, letting her hatred show. “You’re right. I am worth three hundred of your Evens.”
There was a shocked silence. The Numbers were openmouthed, quietly horrified. But she saw the glint of pride in her sisters’ eyes. And the slightly exasperated disappointment in Sugar’s.
“How?” Fifteen asked, taking a step forward. “Spider, you said he would win.”
Doubt rippled through the crowd. Whiskey’s smugness grew.
“Demon,” Spider said quietly, then her voice rose. “She’s a demon!”
“Hang on!” Sugar said hotly. “Whiskey’s not...” He trailed off, as if he wasn’t quite sure. Fox was, and he stepped forward, fists balled.
“She’s no demon, she’s just more skilled than your fighter!”
“How could she be?” Spider demanded. “After all you’ve been through, with her injuries and size? No, she isn’t human. Only a demon could trick me.”
“You’re going to throw us out?” Charlie demanded over the discontented murmurs of the Numbers tribe.
There was a long moment of silence. Whiskey could see Spider thinking, like the wheels in her head were turning. Her gaze flicked over the Kai, lingering too long on their babies.
“No. But I will need to apply some sanctions. Restrictions. We can’t have a demon loose in the town.”
Whiskey snarled. “No one is chaining me up again!”
Two gave a squeal of agony as she pulled his arms up too high. Spider’s expression turned to alarm and surprise. “Who said anything about...! No. Release him, demons’ kin, before you dislocate his shoulders!”
Whiskey did release him, rising to her feet and sliding away from him, back toward Fox. “Well?”
“You can stay in the bunkhouse today, but out of sight. I will organize a house for you. But one outside the town limits. And then you will not enter again.” Spider’s eyes were hard. “You may not hunt with the others. You may not touch any food unless it is intended for your family. You may not attend story time or services in the evening. Anyone who wants to talk to you, to see you, must leave the village to do so.”
“And the rest of us?” Sugar demanded.
“I only see one demon,
” Spider said.
Whiskey bared her teeth in a snarl. Spider might have been pushing her out rather than locking her up, but she was no different to the scientists who had been stranded on the reef. The Kai couldn’t stay here, and she couldn’t just drag them away. Not when she had nowhere to take them.
First, she had to find them a new home.
“I have no problem with that,” Whiskey said. She nodded to Fox, indicating he should follow her. He fell in behind her without question, and she stopped by Charlie.
“I’ll be back in a few days,” she promised. Then she turned, and with Fox and Raven at her heels, she left.
Chapter Nine
“Your demon is scary,” Fifteen said. Zebra, Sixteen and Fifteen were sitting on the dock. Zebra’s feet were dangling in the water, and there were small fish picking at his toes. He had drawn them up nervously when a bull shark had swum past, but the water was clear enough now for him to see the bottom and at least twenty feet around him.
“She’s not a demon,” Zebra said with a sigh. “I mean, I guess I once thought that too. But she was our first mother. And she killed—” He trailed off, realizing the story about Whiskey killing the megalania matriarch did not make her sound less demon-like. Or her survival and confrontation of the scientists. Actually, Whiskey was pretty convincing as a demon. “Anyway, she saved my life after the tsunami. Brought everyone together. Kept us alive. Some people just have a talent for killing things.”
“If you say she’s okay, I believe you,” Sixteen said, his shoulder resting against Zebra’s, more agreeable than his twin.
Zebra frowned. “‘Okay’ isn’t the right word. She always does what she thinks is best for the tribe. No matter how horrible or dangerous or violent. But they’re not selfish goals. At least, not in her mind.”
Fifteen looked off over the water, something unreadable in her eyes. “I saw what they did to her. Chaining her up like an animal. Beating her. Taking her baby away. She hasn’t been the same since then, has she?”