by Gregory Loui
Gore cringed at the thought of going back to Elvenheim —the college would not welcome her back quite yet. But her ears pricked up at one specific word.
“Replicators… hm.” Gore scratched her chin as she glanced towards the college. Her hands twitched at the sight of the white castle breaching the sea of trees. “Yeah. That would be very interesting… hey, Aunt Iron Tusk? Could you stop by this one place?”
Then police howls sliced through the traffic horns.
“Shit,” growled Bones as he sniffed a line of pixie dust. “They found me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Of Cops and Orcs
All eyes turned to Bones. Then Gore slapped her forehead and growled, “Of course. Bones… you need to run.”
“Ahhh… worried about your older brother?” asked Bones, reaching over to hug his sister.
Gore punched him.
“No. I’m enough trouble as it is. I don’t need to get associating with criminals on my record,” scoffed Gore as she looked at Aunt Iron Tusk.
“My record isn’t that bad.”
“Your record,” retorted Gore, jerking her head at the floor. “I assume this truck comes with a escape hatch.”
The old orc laughed, “I went straight a long time ago. Good thing this truck is older than that. There should be a hatch under the Shasta rug, leads out the back. Go!”
As Bones swept off the rug to reveal the escape hatch and started to crawl in, Gore leaned out the window and looked down the freeway. A pair of cops loped in between cars. One brown and the other pure grey.
“Quick!” said Gore as she drew her head back in.
“Should we really be trying to hide from the cops?” asked Debbie.
All the orcs gave her a blank stare. Then laughed.
“I don’t want to get shot today,” chuckled Bones as he disappeared into the bowels of the truck.
“Me two,” coughed Aunt Iron Tusk, adjusting her shirt and wiping grease from her hands onto her mechanic jumpsuit.
Her reflection gleaming on the window of a nearby car, through which an elven child looked back her with a innocent smile before an older elf inside drew the child away from her, Gore sighed, “Me three.”
Stopping at every car with a orc in it, the cops made their way to Aunt Iron Tusk’s truck. Gore tapped her fingers against the side of the truck, waiting for the inevitable, praying she wouldn’t end up another statistic. She hoped all the witnesses might prevent another incident. Of course… she glanced at all the other cars, hoping they could overcome their indifference.
Still hoping.
Gore sighed as the cops came up to Aunt Iron Tusk’s truck. The one with brown fur tapped on the window. Gore popped out her head. She hissed. It was the one-eyed cop from the night she met Bones again.
The cop tipped his hat at Gore as he snarled “Hello again. I’m Officer Riles, I’m looking for a orc known as Bones Tornfar. If you don’t mind, my partner will just check the back of your truck…”
As the grey furred cop loped to the back of the truck, Gore sighed, “I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him.”
The one-eyed cop’s eye narrowed. “I never said Bones was a he.” Officer Riles turned to Aunt Iron Tusk. He sniffed the air. “Hm… got anything to say, old Greenskin? Or is it more grey?”
Gore snarled. Family before all else, even the world. Besides, she couldn’t let the police disrespect orcs anymore.
But Aunt Iron Tusk waved away Gore’s anger as she laughed, “I don’t know anyone named Bones, sir. Never heard that name in my entire life.”
Officer Riles’s eye narrowed further. Pulling out his pistol, the cop snarled, “I think you’re lying. I think you are—”
Horns honked down the road. Gore whipped her head. She snorted in disgust. A ragged form retreated through the rows of cars.
Idiot… run…
“By the Leaf!” snarled Officer Riles, glancing at Bones then at Aunt Iron Tusk then back at Bones. His pistol’s barrel followed his eyes. “You jagding bitch! You tricked me! You made sure he got away! You—”
The other cop popped his head up from around the truck and barked, “Riles! Didn’t you hear the ladies? They didn’t see Bones and I didn’t find anything in the back. Besides, we have other bonefish to fry.”
The grey-furred cop jerked his finger at Bones as Gore’s brother hopped onto a car. The orc’s pants caught on a antenna.
In that one moment, the entire highway united in horror.
“Jagding orc!” roared Officer Riles as he morphed into his full wolf form and chased after Bones.
Leaving the grey-furred cop behind with Gore and the others.
“Sorry about my partner’s behavior,” said the grey-furred cop, tipping his hat. “He’s been having a pretty shitty couple of days with this new assignment of his.”
Gore rolled her eyes. What excuse could a elven cop have to harass them?
“Thanks for the apology,” said Aunt Iron Tusk, her voice soft but her eyes steel-sharp as she glared at Gore. “I understand you cops have a hard job…”
In that teetering silence, Gore sighed. She understood the old orc’s message. Even if her veins filled with hatred, she couldn’t show it. If only so she could survive.
Then Aunt Iron Tusk coughed, “So officer… best of luck catching this criminal, whoever he is.”
Gore blinked. Aunt Iron Tusk had crossed her fingers.
“Thank you. It’s not every day I find such cooperative and well-spoken or—er, civilians,” managed the other cop as he tipped his hat and turned to chase Bones.
“Condescending prick,” Gore cursed under her breath. She hoped that Bones could manage to shake his tracker. If only so she didn’t need to find another rider for the Magnum Orcus. Gore fingered her wyvern bone earring.
“That was weird. Random police search,” murmured Debbie as the cops disappeared and traffic resumed their endless trudge to the horizon.
“Weird for you, maybe. But ‘random’ police searches happen quite often to us orcs,” growled Aunt Iron Tusk as she turned to honk her horn at the car in front of her.
“Huh…” Debbie glanced at Gore, who just shrugged.
“You can’t change the world. That’s just how it is,” murmured Gore as she turned her thoughts to the future. She smiled as she started drawing blueprints in her mind. Her hands itched to get back to working on machines. They weren’t as troublesome as people. “Just how it is…”
But just because something was, doesn’t mean that was the way it had to be.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Interlude
The Orc gulped as he stared into the river of Old Tao Ein. His grey eyes glared at the bonefish churning the silt with each flick of their tails as the bonefish searched for armored alligators or unwary swimmers to eat. The Orc paused for a moment and looked at the corpses he just killed, chewing his lip. Even Warboyz didn’t deserve the fate he planned for them.
Ah well.
He dumped them all over the edge into the brown and glowing green water.
The corpses disappeared into a bloody mess. The last in a long series of corpses who’d tried to find Momma G through him. They were getting close. They might find other avenues to Momma G.
Not yet.
His stomach rebelling within him as he endured another flashback to his tour of duty abroad, the Orc snorted more pixie dust and climbed up to the upper levels of the Narrows, past three different eras of the city built atop each other. He popped out across the street from Gore’s garage, sitting down on a small bridge above the river. He watched as the dwarf known as Debbie entered the garage and showed Gore the results of grueling training with Aunt Iron Tusk.
The Orc tried not to laugh. Despite the natural talent the dwarf showed in movement, the Orc doubted Debbie could take on a Warboy. There were skills, experiences growing up on the street that one could never duplicate in training. Still… if it made Gore feel easier and the little dwarf useful to the Orc’s pla
ns… by all means…
Gore smiled as Debbie touched her hand, drawing her close in a conversation that the Orc couldn’t make out. Then the two women brought a plate of food out for the stray drakes.
“Hello, Mr. Dragon,” growled Gore as one of the larger drakes rubbed its spine against her leg. Green and orange frills flashed in the garage light. “Nice to see you again.”
“Huh, hard to think that this little scale ball would try to bite your eyes out when you first met him,” laughed Debbie, looking at Gore, who just laughed. The Orc watching them could only shake his head at Gore’s cluelessness. “Guess once you put in the effort, you can actually make friends with your enemies.”
“Just don’t tell anyone,” chuckled Gore.
“You should try it with Tawny.”
“No. I’m not gonna make friends with an racist elf. Her kind will—”
“That’s kinda of racist to assume all elves will be…”
The Orc in the shadows rolled his gold eyes as he grew bored with the conversation and turned down the street. His friend approached.
“Hi. How’s Momma G?” asked the one-eyed cop as he took a place beside the Orc.
Glancing at his hands, musing on how quick he could pull out the rifle, the Orc said, “Good. Good…”
“Heard she just killed a pack of Squirrels in the Jungle. Didn’t have anything to do with that did you?” asked Officer Riles, pulling out a blunt and lighting the tip with a spark of his claws.
“Absolutely not,” laughed the Orc as he handed the cop a packet of papers. So deep in the night, not a soul in sight —after all, he just killed most of them— the Orc didn’t have to worry about exposing the cop.
“I don’t believe you for a second,” snarled Officer Riles, rolling his eyes.
“Wait,” growled the Orc, raising his hand as he leaned in, trying to listen in on Gore’s conversation.
The two turned towards Gore and Debbie as the two girls continued their conversation. Something something school related. The Orc just shook his head. He thought Gore said something about Momma G and Gore’s brother, that idiot bones. Never mind. The orc sighed, watching the two love birds flirt with all the grace of a minotaur. Or at least, he watched Debbie flirt with Gore’s oblivious ass.
“Huh, lesbians… that’s hot. Should I kill them now?” asked Officer Riles, fingering his holster.
“…No. Not yet. Momma G has something special planned for them. Bones will guide them down the correct path and soon, after the Toretto Trials… Momma G will be ready and the underground will plummet into chaos.” The Orc let out a dark chuckle. His eyes flashed red. “Hahahaha… soon…”
Officer Riles raised an eyebrow as he scratched his wounded eye. He spat onto the sidewalk and growled, “Leaf above, I feel dirty whenever we meet. And that laugh right there didn’t help one bit. If this deal doesn’t work out, the whole city will come down on your ass. Both the law and criminals will destroy you, this Momma G and anyone associated with you fools.”
The Orc just laughed more, baring long tusks, his eyes glinting gold. Soon he would be the only one laughing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Upgrades
“I hate school,” muttered Gore, leaning against a pillar as she waited for Debbie to come out of class. At the sight of a passing pack of elvish student, she slunk back into shadows, pressing her large frame tight against the ivy-covered stone.
“Did you hear about that greenskin? That she-orc in the engineering department?” asked one of the elves, whose familiar voice grated on Gore’s ears. Gore growled. Tawny…
“No. What happened?” asked another. Just another one of Tawny’s stooges.
“Turns out she got suspended from school! The Dean had to kick her out on her ass.”
“What? How?”
“She’s an orc. Nothing more. Nothing less. She tried to attack me over some innocent comments,” said Tawny, clutching her chest as if Gore had stabbed her heart. As if Tawny ever had one.
If only. If only so Gore could rip it out
“Damn beasts. So many trying to cross the border into our country, bringing criminals and rapists with them. They should all go back to the Blight where they belong.”
“I agree. Someone should build a great wall. Just like in the days of old.”
“Beasts like them, orcs didn’t deserve our jagding pity after the Great War. After all we did? After freeing them from their gods, we took in so many refugees and provided so many reparations. They should be bowing and scraping as we pass, begging us to bless their pitiful lives,” said Tawny, her laughter echoing in Gore’s ears over and over again. Tawny was so tough when she was surrounded by her own kind. Gore could change that… “They had three hundred years to rebuild their world. If they couldn’t manage it by now, they’re not going to any time soon.”
With each passing peal, Gore’s breath grew ragged and she clenched her fists tight, breaking the stone around her. She tried stop her thoughts as they turned to murder. Tried to not make a scene.
She had promised Debbie she wouldn’t cause any trouble.
“With any luck, that bitch will stay where she belongs with the rest of the Greenskins.”
Jagd that, Gore growled to herself.
The bell rang before Gore could leap from the shadows.
“Gore!” hissed Debbie’s voice as the dwarf’s arms wrapped around Gore’s waist, dragging her through the hallways deep into the castle. Away from the elves and Gore’s rage.
Sighing, forcing her breath into a normal pattern and squeezing her red eyes tight until her brain stopped boiling, Gore rumbled, “You don’t have to keep holding me. I’m good.”
“You sure?” asked Debbie, still not letting go.
Gore opened grey eyes.
“I’m sure.” Out of the corner of Gore’s eyes, she caught the Dean peek around a corner before turning to chat with one of the professors. Gore breathed a sigh of relief.
“You absolutely sure?”
“Yes. And despite how titillating this position is, I’m usually the big spoon,” deadpanned Gore as she looked around. Shard-lights cast the castle’s worn stones in harsh shadows and harsher light. Gore sniffed the air and smiled when gasoline and burning fuel filled her nostrils.
As she danced in front of Gore, guiding the orc down a long hall lined with windows showcasing the workshops and labs, Debbie laughed, “Haha. Sure. Next time, I’ll be the little spoon. Now, come on. The labs are this way.”
“Do you have any red paint?” asked Gore, rubbing her shoulders. “The Magnum Orcus lost quite a bit of its paint job in that last race.”
“Um… sure. Though, why red?”
“Red goes faster.”
“That a fact?”
“Yeah-up,” chuckled Gore, half-kidding. “Ancient orc magic…”
Not that she knew real orc magic.
“Uh uh… someday we’re gonna have to do research on that.” Debbie frowned. “Now, promise me you won’t cause a scene. These guys are engineers so they’ll be a little…”
“Socially retarded?” asked Gore, crossing her arms and attempting a smile.
Debbie grimaced. “I was going to say skittish. You know what I mean. You’ve seen how many girls there are in the engineering department, right? Not a lot.”
“More than you think. The actual statistic’s around twenty percent now. And growing,” scoffed Gore, rolling her eyes. “It’s not just a men’s field.”
“That’s still not a lot. Look, you get the point. These guys aren’t exactly the best at interacting with women. One of them trying asking me out on a date using a golem!”
“That’s actually kinda sweet,” grumbled Gore, glancing in one of the windows at the countless dwarves and halflings working within. “I never had anyone ask me out. Must be the height.”
“Eh. It wasn’t as great as you might think. The golem almost burst into flames before it finished its poem.” Debbie shivered and touched her arms. Gore raise
d an eyebrow. “A pretty bad poem, too. Let’s just say these guys are engineering majors for a reason.”
“Hehe. Me no need use Elvish with computers. Me no need learn,” grunted Gore, hunched over and pretending to crouch over a terminal.
Debbie laughed, “Not quite that bad. But… well, whatever. My cousin’s cool. You’ll like him. At least he can speak Elvish in coherent sentences. Using words with more than one syllable too!”
“What a charmer,” deadpanned Gore as Debbie stopped at one door. Inside a couple of machines whirred to life, spilling tendrils of red energy into a spaces in the middle of the room. The tendrils wove together into solid matter, forming into a rough box. “Oh shit… that’s a replicator… damn.”
“I know, right? Pretty. Now, follow me. And try not to kill anyone,” warned Debbie, opening the door and beckoning Gore to follow.
“Why does everyone think I’m gonna kill someone?” grumbled Gore under her breath as she followed Debbie. She hadn’t killed anyone.
Today.
“Wow! Wow! Wow! Wait, stop! What the? Who let in the two XX chromosomes?” demanded one of the seven dwarves, peering at Gore through thick bronze goggles. He gaped at her for a long moment before the dwarf turned to the others and shouted, “By the Forge Master! Turn off the replicator!”
“What?” asked the other six dwarves, turning as one at Gore.
“Turn off the replicator!” shouted the first dwarf. He rushed around the machines and slammed down a few buttons. “Turn off the replicator!”
The other six dwarves bolted into action, each pressing over a hundred different buttons and pulling over a dozen switches in about half a second. Gore raised an eyebrow, stunned by their efficiency, almost enough to forget their… overreaction.
“Huh. I keep on letting people lead. And they keep on jagding up,” muttered Gore as she watched the tendrils of energy dissipate into the nether. The energy took the half-formed object with it. “Damn… wanted to see what they’d could make…”