Bats of the Republic

by Zachary Thomas Dodson

  Though he had previously wanted her for his wife, Elswyth was furious with him now. She would forever pine for the ghost of Mr. Thomas. Mr. Gray, his employer, had lost all confidence in him. Louisa was banished from his presence. And his child would be kept from him. It was all the fault of his bloody cousin.

  Eliza, it seems that Zeke’s letter is still elusive. I am desperate to right the wrong that I have done you both. It was reported that the original was turned in to be carbon’d, so I went to look for it in the Vault of Records. It was an easy morning walk: The bats were returning to their roost in the roof of the Vault, so I just followed them to the source of knowledge. Once there, the file number led to a drawer, which referred me to another file in another hall, which then returned me back to the original thread, which had a misfile slip attached…and so on. This has gone on for two days. I have walked up and down the great dusty halls, yanking open flimsy drawers. Sand and bat guano have clogged the gears that allow them to slide out from the cabinets. No one has cleaned. The weaknesses of the Vault and my organization of the Records are being made very clear to me.

  Nowhere in these files have I found the missing letter to confirm Zeke’s bloodline. Instead they all refer to the Auspices. Their history is shady: They all began as Senators’ wives and have some secret hand in running the nation. This makes sense if they hold the key to the fount-water—inside these walls, that substance is life itself. Though they wield this power, their agenda is not clear. They have come out against the watchposts and force of the Law, Daxon in particular, on numerous occasions. Yet they also shun the Deserters and the chaos they preach. Perhaps they are simply against violence and this is what they teach their young recruits. In any case, I don’t know why all these files have been stamped instead of the letter.

  What makes my task even more difficult is that I have to keep up the appearance of research at the Vault so that Daxon and his men do not suspect that I’m thumbing through their open threads. At least the research time allows me to investigate some of the oddities in Zadock Thomas’s story.

  I have found little on Rodriguez’s father. It’s plausible that he might be Don Mariano Chavez y Rodriguez, the head of an influential and wealthy New Mexican family. Transporting goods over the Santa Fe Trail, down the Camino Real, and to other traders in Chihuahua would have been very lucrative. The trade with New Mexico had reached half a million dollars annually and was growing at a rapid pace.

  It would have been an excellent profession in a more civilized time. Before the Civil War, the U.S. was lawless, and much of the west was unsettled and unstructured. Vigilante justice ruled in the territories. Rebellions were inevitable—there was no governing body to keep the peace.

  McMarrow led an escort dragoon, sent by the U.S. to protect the overland trade with Mexico. His replacement of standard troops with American Indians was highly unusual, and his abandonment of the traders along the route could have found him charged with treason. Zadock’s sole concerns were the animals and Elswyth. He seems only vaguely aware of the political situation around him and what it might mean for an American to be in New Mexico at the time.

  I wish he had written more about Sr. Rodriguez’s financial relationship with Irion. It makes no sense for a Mexican citizen like Sr. Rodriguez to give support to the Texans. Especially given his daughter’s ties to local Navajo tribes. The new Texas government was no friend to the indigenous populations.

  But General Irion didn’t get along well with his countrymen. He was opposed to Mirabeau Lamar, the third president of Texas. Lamar’s separatist policies became unpopular along with his campaign to drive the American Indians out of Texas and the printing of “redbacks,” a Texas currency that quickly overinflated and became valueless.

  Since the Texan administration he disagreed with had no interest in joining the U.S., Irion took his troops rogue, continuing to fight the war in his own way. He attacked other Texan troops and trade caravans as well as embarking on a mad-conquistador search for cities of gold and fountains of youth. Based on McMarrow’s description of him, he is a capable if delusional leader. At times he seems almost as bent and bloodthirsty as Lamar. I worry that these city-states have begun to take on the air of a failed political experiment, echoing this nascent and short-lived Republic of Texas.

  Daxon has also broken from his nation and built a cannon. He claims it is for defense, but war machines have been outlawed since the Collapse. I heard him brag openly of throwing someone over the barrier into the rot, proclaiming loudly to his men, “Let the wolves have him.” This sort of justice makes me feel less secure. Because of all the dead zones, anyone here could be a killer if they are careful enough to hide their tracks.

  I have unhooked my typowriter from the carbon repeater. I can feel Daxon listening to me. I sneak around the Vault now, worried that someone will trace my namestamps. The letter cannot be much farther away. I must find it soon. For you.

  I wish you could’ve known your mother. We had our disagreements, and she knew I was Queer. Perhaps long before I did. She was a lovely person. She had a perfect natural grace. And a special talent for making others feel comfortable and at home. Watching you, I can’t help but to see her and that same radiant warmth. I hope that Zeke appreciates this in you.

  If Zeke accepts his duty as Khrysalis and takes the Senate seat, then you will move away from this dangerous city-state. I hope when it is all over you will read this thread. Though we can’t speak, you would see I tried to help in some small way.

  17/9/43

  LOS PADILLAS, TEXAS

  Dearest Elswyth,

  In the morning I awoke to a tin tub, in which Abril had already drawn a bath for me. This was a welcome surprise, and it felt vitally refreshing to soak in the cool waters. She had washed my traveling clothes, and I had to wait modestly in the tub for her to return them to me. After I dressed she even clipped my fingernails and toenails, which brought on another spell of bashfulness, but I didn’t have the Spanish to graciously refuse such a kind gesture.

  Rodriguez seems in no great hurry to leave, which has inflamed my impatience. He has to wait for his caravan of goods to arrive. In the afternoon he took me to the running pens, where we coursed his grayhounds. He has many large and handsome animals, and they are as swift as fowl in flight. He told me his were descended from the original old-world hounds, brought by the conquistadors to hunt rabbits or coyote or, sadly, sometimes Indians.

  I reiterated how crucial my errand was. He seemed to think that I would find Irion and help to form the New Society. I insisted my task has no part to play in that grander scheme, but I was anxious to leave.

  He said his family had been expelled from Albuquerque, and his father had been forced to relocate his home farther south. Abril had spent much time visiting with the tribe not far from here. Society wouldn’t accept this and began to suspect her of using the witchery way. He expressed disdain for his people and praised his sister’s learning. Since she is also enamored of the new country, and knows the way, he suggested that I take her with me as a guide.

  I refused this as well. Traveling alone with a woman would not only be improper but also dangerous, and I could not bear the thought of exposing Rodriguez’s sister to the trials of the hard road. I cannot ask her to wager her life on the gambit I have undertaken.

  Rodriguez said that we might leave the decision until morning, when I should depart. He said I might consider the idea more carefully. He offered to provision me fully and water d’Etre. In the dusk I went outside, pretending to take his words under advisement, though truly I would not entertain them for a moment. I was saying this very thing to d’Etre while brushing him in Rodriguez’s stable when the most curious toad caught my eye.

  Abril, bringing some feed out for d’Etre, discovered me in the midst of drawing the spiky creature. I showed her my work, though it was a lifeless example of my poor skill. Even so, she taught me what she knew of the horned toad. Presently, I asked after her suitors, and she said she had n
one, preferring the company of the Indian women who had been teaching her as of late. I had never considered what their religion might be like. She spoke to me of their shamans, great women who guide the tribes in worshipping their ancestors. This idea rather struck me. I scarcely know who mine are. Once away from her father, she seemed to bloom into an outspoken young woman with some command of English. It was not perfect, but she began speaking rapidly of the shamans’ rituals and I tried my best to understand.

  The Indian women had indeed taught her many things, useful arts for healing. She mentioned the skinwalkers, whom Rodriguez had spoken of at the pueblo. The creatures live outside the tribe and the shamans do much work to keep them at bay. She began to describe something called the Nightway, another sort of magic, a dance that causes the weather to respond to human moods and such. She said it was useful, and that she would perform the spell for me if it helped.

  We went into the stable, leaving d’Etre to his meal. We climbed into the hayloft. There she had set up a table, made from an old crate. Upon it were all manner of dried flowers and a single black candle.

  She plucked fruit from a cactus pad and ground it into a fine dust. She then used a stiff feather to mix it with water in a clay bowl. She drank from the bowl with both hands and presently reclined, her eyes rolling back in her head. I waited and watched her for the better part of an hour. Moths beat the air around me, the black candle drawing their hawk-size shadows in spirals on the roof above. Some wretched wind had picked up outside and was nipping at us through the cracks in the barn walls. I was unsure of whether to wake Abril from her trance or to return to the house and let her be.

  The thought of reporting this circumstance to her father seemed unwise, and just as I resolved to reach out and rouse her from her strange slumber, she bolted upright, eyes white in the gloaming.

  She began to speak, with a low and knowing voice, as though we were familiars. She said there was no time to deliver the letter, and I must return to the Gray house without delay. It was then I realized her English had become perfect. Her eyes were very still.

  “Anne?” I ventured to ask. I felt as though the threads of a dream were being woven into reality before my very eyes.

  “There is a child on the way. An important one.”

  Once it was said, the telegram and sudden marriage made sense. It is unnerving news, a blow that compounds the injury done to me by the telegram. Is it true, my love? Have you lain with another?

  “Was it Buell?” I asked. Though it was plainly Abril in front of me, I knew I was speaking to your Aunt Anne. I could barely contain myself. “My cousin cannot be trusted. I never should have left!”

  “Your cousin? This complicates things. Listen closely, Zadock, and do as I say.” I could only nod. “The creatures of the air, they know the path through the night. You must follow their flocks. Only the hidden creatures can make your fate now. Burrow into your darkest to-morrow, the Nightway is underneath everything. There is hardly time.”

  Abril then awoke to herself. I should have hurried! I leapt from the hayloft, badly twisting my ankle. Dark had taken the barn and the lands about. I went outside to breathe some cool night air.

  Abril followed me and laid a comforting hand on my back. She was herself again, yet had heard everything. We did not speak for a long while, and I discovered tears on my cheek. Eventually she told me of a spell to curse a pregnant woman, whereby the shaman slits open the belly of a horned toad and puts a human bone inside, that of a child or a twin being especially powerful. She offered to do the magic for me.

  I said that of course I wished you no harm, that the pregnant girl was my love and had left me for another man.

  Abril said that times of transformation are very dangerous. She said that I should be wary because the stars were watching me, and when they start to change I have to become invisible to them.

  She began to enumerate ways to ensure this happened—the dance, eating only fruits, and so forth. She then produced a fine-looking map of the night sky. She said it had been given her by a Texian soldier, and though she could not read it, she was convinced the asterisms it illustrated were alive and would guide me along the Nightway.

  I could hardly pay it any attention. I was, and remain, beside myself with anguish. I have been awake all night long.

  I could scarcely believe it at first, but as I lay unsleeping on the mat in my sala another thought dawned on me. You sent the telegram because you are pregnant. If I could not be of help, why else would you include a deadline? You have never before been anxious to marry, having waited this long. But now you are with child and must wed before your reputation suffers. Buell is the available partner. But it could just as easily be me. That’s why you reached out. You could not, of course, mention an out-of-wedlock pregnancy in a telegram.

  The dawn hour is not far off now, and I make ready to leave on my own, unescorted. I feel I must. Haste is now all that matters. I will follow the path of the birds. I cannot wait for Rodriguez or his sister. I must hurry toward home with a haste that may stretch my endurance to the limit. But do not lose hope, my love. I am coming for you. Whatever child is with you shall be ours, I promise it.

  With You in This as in All Things, Zadock

  BEGIN PHONOTUBE TRANSCRIPT:

  R. DEXTRA ›› I joined up. I’m a conscripted Deserter now. You should too.

  Z. THOMAS ›› That’d be quite a job change for me. Khrysalis to Deserter.

  ›› You don’t want that job.

  ›› I don’t think Leeya will like that.

  ›› Last time I guess we had a bit of an accident. Me and Leeya.

  ›› What do you mean?

  FLAG ➤ ›› She’s pregnant. 〈 PREGNANCY

  ›› Whoa. Raisin. You’re…that’s going to be trouble.

  ›› She told me last week. It’s my kid. When they find out, they’ll send me straight to…well, I guess Atlantas is gone.

  ›› Eliza could’ve got you the papers for emergency marriage. She’s fired now. You could try to go to Salt-Lake early.

  ›› I don’t want to be in babyland either. That’s why I joined the Deserters.

  FLAG ➤ I’m going to flee the city-state. 〈 DESERTER

  ›› That’s your parenthood plan?

  ›› You should talk to the conscripter. I did.

  FLAG ➤ He’s called the Nightman. He guides people out of the city-state. Over the barrier late at night. Trains “bats” to flee. He lives in the industrial quarter. 〈 NIGHTMAN

  ›› Raisin, you’re going to have a baby. I don’t like the Republic any more than you do, but…How will you live?

  ›› It’s the only way. Leeya won’t take me for a pair, and the last thing I want to do at this age is go to bloody Salt-Lake.

  ›› But you think she’d run off and join a group of armed Deserters with you?

  ›› You’re lucky. You already have someone.

  ›› Actually, I also have a small problem.

  ›› There’s no way Eliza is pregnant too.

  ›› Hh. No. My grandfather left me this letter. From my great-great-great-great-great-great…great-grandfather.

  ›› That’s a lot of greats. What does it say?

  ›› I don’t know. I lost it. It’s uncarbon’d.

  FLAG ➤ ›› Uncarbon’d. Bad. 〈 UNCARBON’D RECORD

  ›› And they know. There’s a deadline out for me. I have seven days to turn it in. Major Daxon has been particularly aggressive. He knows I have it. Or had it, anyway. That’s the problem.

  ›› Don’t go to jail. Escape. Come to the rot.

  ›› I’ve thought of giving the seat to Bic.

  ›› Yes! You want to be in charge of this claustrotopia? Enforce these rules?

  ›› I imagine Eliza would be a little uncomfortable as a Deserter.

  ›› I hear they have code names. I’ll be Storm-Riler. You can be…Bird-Boots.

  ›› Ha. Call me when you’re sober. Let’s meet up.
Figure out both these messes. LAUGHTER

  ›› Double, double toil and trouble…

  END PHONOTUBE TRANSCRIPT

  ∧∧ Zeke had to lean on some laudanum. There was a feeling of unbearable pressure inside his skull. He needed the soft release of the drug. He couldn’t stop thinking about Bartle and his hunt for the letter in the Vault. He wished he could go with him. Without the letter, he was essentially without a choice. ∧∧ ∧∧ Eliza was different when she got home from work. Her mood had shifted. She was shaken and tense, but no longer angry. She put her things down and took off her boots, moving slowly. She sat next to him, releasing a long exhale. ∧∧ ∧∧ ∧∧ “Listen, I’m sorry about…our fight.” She smiled faintly. ∧∧ “Me too.” Zeke wasn’t expecting an apology. ∧∧ ∧∧ She looked him in the eye. “I lost my job.” Her chin began to tremble. Zeke sat up a little. ∧∧ “Why? I mean, why do you think that happened?” ∧∧ “I’m not sure. I took some paper. Daxon has it out for us.” ∧∧ “I think Daxon has aims beyond Texas. His speech at the statue ceremony was directed at the Senate.” ∧∧ “What will you do?” ∧∧ “I can’t take the Senate seat. Not without the letter. I feel sure there’s something my grandfather wanted me to know. The way it came to me—subtle but deliberate. Besides, they’ll arrest me if I can’t find it.” ∧∧ “Well, you can decide once you have it. But I know your grandparents wanted you to take the seat.” ∧∧ “Look how much this political stuff has already messed with our lives. Your job.” ∧∧ “As long as you still want me.” ∧∧ “I do. Forever. I am your blood. I just want to get out of here and start our lives—private, simple. I want kids, I know you do too.” ∧∧ At this, Eliza pulled out a folded transcript and handed it to Zeke. It was his conversation with Raisin from two days ago. Zeke read it. ∧∧ “Why didn’t you tell me Leeya was pregnant?” Eliza didn’t seem mad, just a little hurt. ∧∧ “I assumed you knew. I figured she’d tell you even before Raisin.” ∧∧ “That’s strange. But we’re supposed to meet tonight. I’m worried that she’s been going to the Auspices, talking to them about becoming a recruit. Makes sense, I suppose, if she’s pregnant and unpaired.” ∧∧ “You’d pick Raisin over the Auspices?” ∧∧ “Maybe they aren’t all bad. Someone has to take the Gray girls in. But I don’t really know much about the Auspices. I can’t imagine Leeya caught up in spells and poisons and all of that. You need to talk to Raisin about this.” ∧∧ “I’ll find him. When are you seeing Leeya?” ∧∧ “I’m meeting her for dinner at seven.” ∧∧ “It’s seven now.” ∧∧ Eliza glanced at the clock on the mantel. She turned back to him, her eyes searching. ∧∧ ∧∧ “You should go,” Zeke said. ∧∧ ∧∧ ∧∧ ∧∧ ∧∧ Eliza got up. She took her socks off while hopping into the bedroom. ∧∧ ∧∧ ∧∧ ∧∧ ∧∧ Just talking felt better. Zeke knew they would make up now. He picked up Eliza’s socks. He squeezed his feet into them. They were too small, coming just over his heels, well short of the ankle. ∧∧ ∧∧ ∧∧ ∧∧ Eliza returned in different jeans. She held one arm across her freckled chest. She was looking for something. Zeke tucked his feet underneath his body. ∧∧ “I have something to ask you,” Zeke said. Eliza froze. “I won’t be mad, but…” Eliza opened her mouth, as if to confess. “You altered Leeya’s file?” ∧∧ ∧∧ She looked confused. For a moment Zeke thought she was going to lie. “A long time…” Eliza switched to a whisper. “Raisin brought her too young. They both would’ve been jailed.” ∧∧ “I thought digging in the Vault was dangerous. That’s not why you got fired?” ∧∧ “No, nobody has found that. It was the only way to protect Leeya. I couldn’t stand to lose her.” ∧∧ ∧∧ “You and I waited.” Zeke thought about the span of their entire relationship. He thought about how long it had been since Eliza had seen her father. He thought about how long it had taken his grandfather’s generation to build the barriers and initiate the lifephases. ∧∧ We lose all we have done and built and how. ∧∧ ∧∧ ∧∧ Eliza took a deep breath, her ribs stretching her thin frame. “Where did my socks go?” She looked under the table and returned to the other room for her shirt. ∧∧ ∧∧ ∧∧ ∧∧ “I have something else to tell you,” Zeke called after her. ∧∧ ∧∧ “Keep your voice down!” She hurried back in, dressed for the square. “I altered Leeya’s file for Raisin too, you know. We were both worried. Tell him to do the right thing.” She sat down next to him. “What is it?” He took her hand again and tried to speak calmly. ∧∧ “Your father is here.” ∧∧ ∧∧ ∧∧ “I’m not sure what you mean.” ∧∧ “I met your father. He’s in Texas.” ∧∧ Silence. Eliza looked doubtful. ∧∧ “And he came to you instead of me?” She grabbed one of her boots and picked at the toe. ∧∧ “I think he’s worried about seeing you.” ∧∧ ∧∧ “How do you know this is my father?” ∧∧ Zeke paused. He hadn’t expected to be questioned. ∧∧ “I guess I don’t. He looks like you. A tiny bit.” ∧∧ “I just don’t know why he would tell you this, instead of finding me.” ∧∧ “He…he’s looking for my letter. Someone turned it in.” ∧∧ ∧∧ It seemed like it was sinking in now. Eliza put down the boot, next to its pair. She buried her face in her hands. After a moment her shoulders began to convulse in the unmistakable rhythm of sobs. Zeke shifted down the sofa and put his arms around her. ∧∧ ∧∧ “It’s OK. I know how weird this must be. To hear he’s alive. You shouldn’t see him, though. It’s too dangerous.” Eliza tried a few words, but nothing really came out. Each time she began to speak, sobs overtook her again. Zeke just held her and waited. He remembered the feeling when his sabre finally cut through the steampipes, and all the power of the city-state leaked out into the night. He felt relief. It lasted until he was made Khrysalis. It wasn’t fair that his fate was now decided for him. ∧∧ “Listen, I’m going to get the letter back. Your father is going to help. We’ll get it all sorted out, and then we can get out of here. I’m done with this city-state.” ∧∧ Eliza just nodded. ∧∧ “I think it might be at the Vault, but I want you to promise me one thing.” He lifted her chin to meet her eye. “Don’t go looking for it. Or your father. Don’t do anything rash.” ∧∧ ∧∧ ∧∧ Eliza didn’t answer. ∧∧