"Let's make one thing perfectly clear," I say, looking out over the assembled officers. There's at least a hundred of them in this group, waiting to for us to finish. Ichirou has already said his piece, and it's typical Allskin rhetoric about fighting and dying with honour.
He should know better.
"The job of this army is not to die for the people of Stardown. If any of you have thoughts of dying honourably in the defense of millions, you're going to forget it, and forget it immediately." They give me strange looks at that, but I'm not done. "Your job is not to die for Stardown. Your job, and the job of all your men is to make the enemy die for Goshi. We are going to kill every single one of those bastards. We are going to hit our enemy from every conceivable direction, make his life a living hell, harass him at every turn, and not grant him a single inch of ground before he's paid for it with the blood of thousands. Thousands of Goshi soldiers. You, and the men you'll lead are not allowed to die until you are ordered to do so. Is that clear?"
"Yes, ma'am!" they shout. A good quarter of them have never led anything larger than a hunting party before, but NOW they're standing like soldiers.
Not that I would know anything about how to be a soldier. ... But I do know how to kill, and how to kill very effectively. Such gifts as I have, I share.
"I know that some of you are new to this. Well, we're going to show you how to lead a unit. Consider this your crash course in small unit tactics. You're either going to learn it and learn it well in the weeks before Goshi arrives, or you and your squad will all die. Your choice."
Silence. I have their full and undivided attention.
'Think of how much mana I could harvest from nine million deaths, Oneechan...' Amaterasu whispers.
I ignore her.
And so it begins. I won't be here for every session, but I do what I can. And Ichirou does what he can. All of those with some level of military experience do the same. And as the weeks pass, they will definitely improve. Not as much as I would like, but they will improve: the threat of impending death has a way of focusing the mind. At least a quarter of their planned training will happen when they're already in position on the forward defensive line: we can't actually afford to wait before deploying the army, but if we don't give them at least some training, they'll never be able to fight as a coordinated army.
As the assembled officers salute me, I almost giggle. How strange to be here, helping to command an army. I've always worked in the shadows before. A knife in the dark. A well placed blast of psychic energy removing a potential threat before it has time to fester. A scalpel, cutting cancerous growths out of society.
It all looks so very different from here.
Still, we've got our spies and assassins as well. If all goes well, they'll wreck havoc on Goshi before they arrive here. The goal of our army is to destroy theirs, but the goal of our assassinations and infiltrations is quite different: those operatives are to spread something far more powerful than guns or effective squad tactics; those operatives are to spread terror, and fear. To demoralize the enemy before he even reaches us.
... 128 field operatives.
It should be enough to make a decent showing. I have no illusions. Our chances are slim. But I aim to maximize them as much as possible. If I did anything less, I'd never be able to forgive myself.
I nod to Ichirou, and he to me, and the training begins.
Conversations with the Cold-Blooded
"No. Absolutely not. If I were to accept such a postulate, it would undermine the very foundational principles of nine-branch-formal logic." The lizard looks irritated again. I have that effect on him, and there's something vaguely satisfying about it.
"It still works," I say. "You just have to expand the parameters. It loses some of its predictive ability, but I think it will create a much more accurate representation of..."
-----------------
It's dark, and I'm sitting around a table with a handful of Biomade. Operatives, all of them.
... Well, former operatives. The old networks are shot to hell these days, and hardly anyone knows anything, but we're as close to the heart of Stardown's military intelligence as anyone's going to get.
I wish there was someone else to do this sort of thing, but our list of candidates is a bit on the slim side. There's me, me, and ... me.
Three men, three women, and me.
"What do you have for me?" I ask.
Lightning - one of the women, pulls out a notepad. A notepad. Once, this would have been projected for all of us on a holo-screen, but now, notepads will have to do. "Unfortunately, most of our personnel have maintained their ties with Goshi, and many of those who have not remain loyal to the Oversight Council in Marina, which makes them Goshi's by default." I know all that, but I nod anyways. It's comfortingly silent in here: nobody in the room is foolish enough to allow their thoughts to leak. She goes on. "All told, we've located a hundred and twenty eight former operatives who are willing to participate in our new program.
A hundred and twenty eight. That's not great, but it's not bad, either. A hundred and twenty eight people in the right place at the right time might be all we need.
"You've explained what we expect of them?" A man off to my left asks.
Lightning nods. "They understand that they may not return alive."
And so it goes. A hundred and twenty eight operatives. 'Operative.' That's the civilized term for what we are.
Spies. Assassins. Thieves and murderers. I feel guilt again, but I quash it ruthlessly. I'm not going to feel guilty here. It's funny. The bulk of our work actually goes towards preventing assassination attempts on Moses, Kiyoshi, and Ichiro. I almost giggle at the thought that we've already stopped twelve such attempts before they managed to get off the ground. For a would-be world dominator, Goshi is surprisingly sloppy.
Well, no. That's not really true. That's what they want us to think. Wheels within wheels is the way of this world. Each enemy operative that we capture allows us a view into, not what Goshi is actually planning, but what Goshi wants us to believe that they are planning. Most of their assassins are fed deliberate misinformation for the event of their capture, though their handlers are careful enough to never let them know that, or even to suspect it. How much is bluff and how much isn't, well, that's the game.
"Rei, what about the Ikari report?" another of them asks.
My heart sinks. That happens a lot around these people. "Has it been confirmed?" I ask. If what's in that report is true, then a hell of a lot of innocent people are going to die. We could do something about it, but if we did, a hell of a lot more innocent people would die later.
Lightning nods. "It's been confirmed. ... Ikari has successfully broken the Executor code."
We all let out a breath that none of us had realized we were holding. ... suddenly, things are infinitely more complicated. We've already got three devices on the table designed to nullify the effects of microphones and transmitters in a localized area, and two more designed to block telepathic signals, but I add another one just to be on the safe side.
"So they're going to hit the tunnels," I murmur. "Sick bastards." It's an ingenious plan, really. Specifically designed to undermine morale and spread terror in our population: nerve gas canisters smuggled into the refugee tunnels by a team of Goshi operatives.
"We definitely shouldn't tell Moses," Lightning says. "He'll stop the operatives, and they'll know that we cracked the code, and there's no guarantee that we'll be able to crack whatever they come up with to replace it. Not in a short enough time to matter."
I feel sick to my stomach, but it doesn't show on my face. The others aren't quite as good at hiding their reactions. Still, I say what has to be said. "When this is over, I want Rain's head on a pike."
The others all nod their agreement.
I produce a folder marked 'Ikari,' and pull a handful of papers out of it.
The plans for Goshi's first major assault.
A million people are going to die to make an effective response possible.
Karia, but it had better be worth it...
-------------
Jin-Kalys's dewlap flares, and I try very hard not to grin. "A stochastic reading of the Nine Branches is altogether unnecessary. It already accounts for individual choice as a function of the polyvalent..."
He goes on, and I don't quite grasp the entirety of his argument, but I don't show him that. I understand him well enough to get the general sense of what he means. "If you'd accounted for individual choice, you would not be making predictions about the future," I say. "Every choice affects every other. Every action nudges the whole model towards a different outcome. Freedom, Jin-Kalys."
"I will not revise the nine-branches to cater to your personal desire for greater autonomy in the universe, Rei," Jin-Kalys says, and his gaze is oddly piercing. "I had thought that you of all people would take some comfort in knowing that there really are very view possible choices at this juncture, considering what you are about to allow to happen."
Shock. Surprise. Anger. Fear. "... I don't know what you mean," I say.
He looks at me, silently, unblinkingly.
I sink into myself. "... do you think Karia will forgive me?" I ask.
"No." His voice is full of a terrible sense of finality, and I feel that cold, creeping dread again.
'But you don't want to be forgiven, do you, Onee-chan?' Amaterasu whispers in my thoughts. 'You don't want to be forgiven at all. You want to pay for your sins. You want to earn your redemption. I'm right, aren't I? If you give me mana, I can show you how to do it...'
"... There's no other choice," I murmur.
He looks me directly in the eye, then, his unblinking lizard-eyes peering right into mine. "Do you believe that?" he asks.
...
"It still works," I say. "You just have to expand the parameters. It loses some of its predictive ability, but I think it will create a much more accurate representation of..."
-----------------
It's dark, and I'm sitting around a table with a handful of Biomade. Operatives, all of them.
... Well, former operatives. The old networks are shot to hell these days, and hardly anyone knows anything, but we're as close to the heart of Stardown's military intelligence as anyone's going to get.
I wish there was someone else to do this sort of thing, but our list of candidates is a bit on the slim side. There's me, me, and ... me.
Three men, three women, and me.
"What do you have for me?" I ask.
Lightning - one of the women, pulls out a notepad. A notepad. Once, this would have been projected for all of us on a holo-screen, but now, notepads will have to do. "Unfortunately, most of our personnel have maintained their ties with Goshi, and many of those who have not remain loyal to the Oversight Council in Marina, which makes them Goshi's by default." I know all that, but I nod anyways. It's comfortingly silent in here: nobody in the room is foolish enough to allow their thoughts to leak. She goes on. "All told, we've located a hundred and twenty eight former operatives who are willing to participate in our new program.
A hundred and twenty eight. That's not great, but it's not bad, either. A hundred and twenty eight people in the right place at the right time might be all we need.
"You've explained what we expect of them?" A man off to my left asks.
Lightning nods. "They understand that they may not return alive."
And so it goes. A hundred and twenty eight operatives. 'Operative.' That's the civilized term for what we are.
Spies. Assassins. Thieves and murderers. I feel guilt again, but I quash it ruthlessly. I'm not going to feel guilty here. It's funny. The bulk of our work actually goes towards preventing assassination attempts on Moses, Kiyoshi, and Ichiro. I almost giggle at the thought that we've already stopped twelve such attempts before they managed to get off the ground. For a would-be world dominator, Goshi is surprisingly sloppy.
Well, no. That's not really true. That's what they want us to think. Wheels within wheels is the way of this world. Each enemy operative that we capture allows us a view into, not what Goshi is actually planning, but what Goshi wants us to believe that they are planning. Most of their assassins are fed deliberate misinformation for the event of their capture, though their handlers are careful enough to never let them know that, or even to suspect it. How much is bluff and how much isn't, well, that's the game.
"Rei, what about the Ikari report?" another of them asks.
My heart sinks. That happens a lot around these people. "Has it been confirmed?" I ask. If what's in that report is true, then a hell of a lot of innocent people are going to die. We could do something about it, but if we did, a hell of a lot more innocent people would die later.
Lightning nods. "It's been confirmed. ... Ikari has successfully broken the Executor code."
We all let out a breath that none of us had realized we were holding. ... suddenly, things are infinitely more complicated. We've already got three devices on the table designed to nullify the effects of microphones and transmitters in a localized area, and two more designed to block telepathic signals, but I add another one just to be on the safe side.
"So they're going to hit the tunnels," I murmur. "Sick bastards." It's an ingenious plan, really. Specifically designed to undermine morale and spread terror in our population: nerve gas canisters smuggled into the refugee tunnels by a team of Goshi operatives.
"We definitely shouldn't tell Moses," Lightning says. "He'll stop the operatives, and they'll know that we cracked the code, and there's no guarantee that we'll be able to crack whatever they come up with to replace it. Not in a short enough time to matter."
I feel sick to my stomach, but it doesn't show on my face. The others aren't quite as good at hiding their reactions. Still, I say what has to be said. "When this is over, I want Rain's head on a pike."
The others all nod their agreement.
I produce a folder marked 'Ikari,' and pull a handful of papers out of it.
The plans for Goshi's first major assault.
A million people are going to die to make an effective response possible.
Karia, but it had better be worth it...
-------------
Jin-Kalys's dewlap flares, and I try very hard not to grin. "A stochastic reading of the Nine Branches is altogether unnecessary. It already accounts for individual choice as a function of the polyvalent..."
He goes on, and I don't quite grasp the entirety of his argument, but I don't show him that. I understand him well enough to get the general sense of what he means. "If you'd accounted for individual choice, you would not be making predictions about the future," I say. "Every choice affects every other. Every action nudges the whole model towards a different outcome. Freedom, Jin-Kalys."
"I will not revise the nine-branches to cater to your personal desire for greater autonomy in the universe, Rei," Jin-Kalys says, and his gaze is oddly piercing. "I had thought that you of all people would take some comfort in knowing that there really are very view possible choices at this juncture, considering what you are about to allow to happen."
Shock. Surprise. Anger. Fear. "... I don't know what you mean," I say.
He looks at me, silently, unblinkingly.
I sink into myself. "... do you think Karia will forgive me?" I ask.
"No." His voice is full of a terrible sense of finality, and I feel that cold, creeping dread again.
'But you don't want to be forgiven, do you, Onee-chan?' Amaterasu whispers in my thoughts. 'You don't want to be forgiven at all. You want to pay for your sins. You want to earn your redemption. I'm right, aren't I? If you give me mana, I can show you how to do it...'
"... There's no other choice," I murmur.
He looks me directly in the eye, then, his unblinking lizard-eyes peering right into mine. "Do you believe that?" he asks.
...
When it Rains...
Black smoke billowed into the sky. The Behemoths continued their slow and steady march south, cutting and burning through the jungle like glaciers sliding over hot metal. The ground was scorched and smooth behind them, while copper towers spewed ash and smoke skyward. The noise was obnoxious, so Arrow scanned the mind of the Mechified sergeant in front of him who was busily shouting incomprehensible words.
Something in the sky.
Yes, Arrow thought he might have seen it too in the midst of all the charcoal clouds. He sent the message buzzing over the psychic network to his superiors. Not my business, he thought.
The reports arrived on Rain's desk before they were sent. Two or three scouts reported an unidentified flying object at high altitude, and scans from the Varan revealed it had to be an airship. Only one other airship it could possibly be, so she didn't waste any time double-checking the scout's reports. Her lieutenants stood around anxiously expecting some kind of attack order.
"Don't be idiots," she told them. "How many times do you have to have your asses handed to you before you learn to change tactics. If they want to look, let them look. It won't change their fate any. I mean for this to happen on a battlefield where lives are at stake. Make them choose between protecting the rebels, or coming after us. We have nothing to gain by inflicting stupid casualties on ourselves at this point."
She could tell that her lieutenants disagreed, but were equally relieved not to be the one tasked with going after the Sennin. Let them disagree. They know that I'm the only one here with enough brains to get this thing done. There were times when Rain wished she had Katashi Blade's facility for making people give unquestioning obedience, but what she couldn't accomplish with force of personality, she managed by obsessive planning. Every man and woman in her chain of command owed Rain a debt, or feared her with good cause. So even if the obedience came with questions, it came all the same.
She ordered the Varan to follow the Sennin so she'd have an idea of what her enemy knew about her army, but it wasn't long before word was sent back that the Sennin had been lost.
"They have a good pilot," was the lame excuse.
Whatever. Knowledge wouldn't win them the war. Not by a long shot.
For example, she knew that at best she'd be facing a force of 10 million or so untrained and poorly equipped rebels. An enormous army by any standard, but at her disposal she had the combined forces of the former Yogensha League, every militia and conscripted force Goshi had been able to assemble during their months of political dominance, and a great many more divisions hastily recruited, but well armed. Dragging along behind her like some bloated centipede she had over 56 million infantry. In two separate columns coming from Thalosh and Galata she could rely on another 23 million. She had enough vehicles to make a necklace for the planet, including almost 1/2 a million tanks, and a silly amount of artillery besides. Still fighting for her, she counted 114 Mecha, among them the best pilots surviving from Washi San Academy.
Even she felt like this was overkill. As conservative as she could be, as much as she liked to rig the odds in her favor... it was unreasonable to imagine any result but a massacre. In fact, some part of her dimly held out hope that the rebels would see her army arrayed before them and realize the futility of their position. Kiyoshi and Moses at least claimed to be reasonable people, and Daitokuji Ichirou had an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. Surely, they would be willing to give their lives rather than inflict certain death on countless refugees. Only lunatics would push this thing to its ultimate conclusion.
The other part of Rain, with a bit of sadness, told her that she was indeed dealing with lunatics.
Which is why she was not even content relying on her obscenely large army. Her deal with the Shadowfang had gone rather well. So far they had fed him three members of the Biomade Oversight Council in return for his cooperation. It was an exorbitant price to pay for the somewhat dicey prospect that he would succeed, but Rain considered it a worthwhile investment, even with the risk, whenever she imagined the potential chaos he could cause.
And while Shadowfang was a risky investment, she was growing more and more satisfied with herself for taking Drives-Like-Oni up on his suggestion to capture the Many Kicks Tribe. While it had incited the rest of the Zipsum tribes against Goshi, they were more of an annoyance than a real concern and since their aggression wasn't very discriminating, it was likely to cause just as much of a problem to the Rebels as to her. No, the rewards of having these captives were going to be substantial, if fleeting... the oxymoron made her giggle inwardly.
Giggle. That's odd. Rain had never been one to indulge in laughter much, but then she had never been one to bleed from the tear ducts as she had been doing from time to time lately. She'd been careful to limit her exposure to White Rock, but she could read the signs, and they made her more convicted to finish this business post-haste.
Wiping the drop of crimson from her cheek she looked up in time to see her newest adviser entering the tent. Toshiyaki Onyx, was his name. A member of the Biomade Oversight council who agreed to serve her rather than remain a prisoner. He'd been the source of a number of brilliant suggestions, and he had Rain's gift for keeping people off-balance. There was something about his eyes that set people on edge, and Rain liked the discomfort she sensed in her lieutenants whenever Onyx was around. Still, there was something about him that she didn't trust.
"Have you been working with Whiterock again, Onyx?" she asked, tossing the soiled tissue in the trash. He nodded, and she went on, "make sure you're thoroughly cleansed before coming to see me next time. That stuff is poison. You should stay away from it yourself."
"Of course, executor. I've only come to tell you that our experiments with the Zipsum have been very promising. You should get the results you're after."
"Good. Now let me attend to the annoying supply chain issues." The dismissal in her voice was firm and he immediately departed. As Onyx left she remembered why she didn't trust him. Toshiyaki Onyx had been one of the Biomade Oversight Council members that she fed to Shadowfang. No sooner had she realized this than she promptly forgot it again.
Something in the sky.
Yes, Arrow thought he might have seen it too in the midst of all the charcoal clouds. He sent the message buzzing over the psychic network to his superiors. Not my business, he thought.
The reports arrived on Rain's desk before they were sent. Two or three scouts reported an unidentified flying object at high altitude, and scans from the Varan revealed it had to be an airship. Only one other airship it could possibly be, so she didn't waste any time double-checking the scout's reports. Her lieutenants stood around anxiously expecting some kind of attack order.
"Don't be idiots," she told them. "How many times do you have to have your asses handed to you before you learn to change tactics. If they want to look, let them look. It won't change their fate any. I mean for this to happen on a battlefield where lives are at stake. Make them choose between protecting the rebels, or coming after us. We have nothing to gain by inflicting stupid casualties on ourselves at this point."
She could tell that her lieutenants disagreed, but were equally relieved not to be the one tasked with going after the Sennin. Let them disagree. They know that I'm the only one here with enough brains to get this thing done. There were times when Rain wished she had Katashi Blade's facility for making people give unquestioning obedience, but what she couldn't accomplish with force of personality, she managed by obsessive planning. Every man and woman in her chain of command owed Rain a debt, or feared her with good cause. So even if the obedience came with questions, it came all the same.
She ordered the Varan to follow the Sennin so she'd have an idea of what her enemy knew about her army, but it wasn't long before word was sent back that the Sennin had been lost.
"They have a good pilot," was the lame excuse.
Whatever. Knowledge wouldn't win them the war. Not by a long shot.
For example, she knew that at best she'd be facing a force of 10 million or so untrained and poorly equipped rebels. An enormous army by any standard, but at her disposal she had the combined forces of the former Yogensha League, every militia and conscripted force Goshi had been able to assemble during their months of political dominance, and a great many more divisions hastily recruited, but well armed. Dragging along behind her like some bloated centipede she had over 56 million infantry. In two separate columns coming from Thalosh and Galata she could rely on another 23 million. She had enough vehicles to make a necklace for the planet, including almost 1/2 a million tanks, and a silly amount of artillery besides. Still fighting for her, she counted 114 Mecha, among them the best pilots surviving from Washi San Academy.
Even she felt like this was overkill. As conservative as she could be, as much as she liked to rig the odds in her favor... it was unreasonable to imagine any result but a massacre. In fact, some part of her dimly held out hope that the rebels would see her army arrayed before them and realize the futility of their position. Kiyoshi and Moses at least claimed to be reasonable people, and Daitokuji Ichirou had an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. Surely, they would be willing to give their lives rather than inflict certain death on countless refugees. Only lunatics would push this thing to its ultimate conclusion.
The other part of Rain, with a bit of sadness, told her that she was indeed dealing with lunatics.
Which is why she was not even content relying on her obscenely large army. Her deal with the Shadowfang had gone rather well. So far they had fed him three members of the Biomade Oversight Council in return for his cooperation. It was an exorbitant price to pay for the somewhat dicey prospect that he would succeed, but Rain considered it a worthwhile investment, even with the risk, whenever she imagined the potential chaos he could cause.
And while Shadowfang was a risky investment, she was growing more and more satisfied with herself for taking Drives-Like-Oni up on his suggestion to capture the Many Kicks Tribe. While it had incited the rest of the Zipsum tribes against Goshi, they were more of an annoyance than a real concern and since their aggression wasn't very discriminating, it was likely to cause just as much of a problem to the Rebels as to her. No, the rewards of having these captives were going to be substantial, if fleeting... the oxymoron made her giggle inwardly.
Giggle. That's odd. Rain had never been one to indulge in laughter much, but then she had never been one to bleed from the tear ducts as she had been doing from time to time lately. She'd been careful to limit her exposure to White Rock, but she could read the signs, and they made her more convicted to finish this business post-haste.
Wiping the drop of crimson from her cheek she looked up in time to see her newest adviser entering the tent. Toshiyaki Onyx, was his name. A member of the Biomade Oversight council who agreed to serve her rather than remain a prisoner. He'd been the source of a number of brilliant suggestions, and he had Rain's gift for keeping people off-balance. There was something about his eyes that set people on edge, and Rain liked the discomfort she sensed in her lieutenants whenever Onyx was around. Still, there was something about him that she didn't trust.
"Have you been working with Whiterock again, Onyx?" she asked, tossing the soiled tissue in the trash. He nodded, and she went on, "make sure you're thoroughly cleansed before coming to see me next time. That stuff is poison. You should stay away from it yourself."
"Of course, executor. I've only come to tell you that our experiments with the Zipsum have been very promising. You should get the results you're after."
"Good. Now let me attend to the annoying supply chain issues." The dismissal in her voice was firm and he immediately departed. As Onyx left she remembered why she didn't trust him. Toshiyaki Onyx had been one of the Biomade Oversight Council members that she fed to Shadowfang. No sooner had she realized this than she promptly forgot it again.
And They Shall Come From East and West, North and South
What started out as a trickle soon became a deluge. Refugees were arriving by the hundreds and thousands, and then suddenly by the hundreds of thousands. They came in bearing all their worldly possession on their backs, or dragging it behind them on sleds. A few were lucky enough to have wheeled vehicles that had somehow survived the rugged overland journey. They were tired and frightened, but miraculously healthy and well-fed. As they came, the bounty of Karia came with them. Every morning the ground itself would burst in an explosion of fruit and nutrition, which would be quickly gathered up by suddenly animated carts and wagons. No one knew how long the food would keep coming, but so long as it did...
The first refugees from Geneva Prime arrived 40 days after they set out. They came with songs of victory on their tongues. In high spirits, they rejoiced to find the Heroes of Karia Vitalus already here ahead of them, and shouted their confidence that the Stardown Defense Force would win the day against any odds. Among all the refugees the citizens of Geneva Prime were received like journalists straight from the scene of a disaster. Everyone questioned them about the details of the fall of Goshi Tower and the death of Katashi Blade. From the Epicenter of the catastrophe the people of Geneva Prime reported their version of the events, and for once the most outlandish versions of the tale were not far from the truth.
Most refugees came in through the northern passes and were counted as they came, then funneled into one of the major refugee camps built around Stardown. Some refugees began accumulating on the eastern shore of the Stardown Lake and it took days for all of the small boats in the city to serve as ferries, taking them across the crystalline waters into the increasingly crowded and smelly hills outside the city.
When the camps held 10 million refugees they were lively. When the camps held 20 million refugees they approached capacity. When the camps held 50 million they were overcrowded and the planners began to worry about disease, and sanitation became virtually impossible. But the refugees didn't stop coming until they numbered close to 100 million. They lived 3 families to a shack, or on tops of roofs, in caves and trees. They built rafts and lashed them together and lived on the lake. They went up into the mountains and lived above the tree line, or across the lake and crowded all around its shores. The caves built under the hills by order of the SDF generals were reserved for children and caretakers - the future of the Cheldrun if things went poorly. The valley of Stardown became one solid sea of people.
Throughout the exodus Ichirou and Sousauryuko adamantly maintained a final line of defense beyond which no refugee was allowed to cross. Trenches were dug and staked. Razor wire was laid, and mines as well. A killing field for Goshi's army if the SDF was forced to fall back that far. The battle would not begin here, though. The battle would begin at the other end of the pass, hopefully Goshi would give up long before it came to a final stand.
The refugees happily worked. All those who were able bodied had a task, whether it was building more shelters, digging latrines, attending to the sick, or training under the Silver Phoenix Clan generals. No one was idle. No one was allowed to be. Many also joined the SDF though Ichirou preferred to keep the fighting force efficient rather than overcrowded with untrained cannon fodder. Limited by the amount of armaments in their possession only so many soldiers were useful. That number came to approximately 9 million. The largest fighting force anyone among the refugees had ever heard of since the days of the galactic empire. And still many times smaller than the reports arriving of the Goshi Army.
Frustrated with relying on Zipsum reconnaissance Ichirou turned to the Heroes of Karia Vitalus and asked them to go and learn more for him. So they climbed into the Sennin and flew Northwest, toward black clouds on the horizon.
The first refugees from Geneva Prime arrived 40 days after they set out. They came with songs of victory on their tongues. In high spirits, they rejoiced to find the Heroes of Karia Vitalus already here ahead of them, and shouted their confidence that the Stardown Defense Force would win the day against any odds. Among all the refugees the citizens of Geneva Prime were received like journalists straight from the scene of a disaster. Everyone questioned them about the details of the fall of Goshi Tower and the death of Katashi Blade. From the Epicenter of the catastrophe the people of Geneva Prime reported their version of the events, and for once the most outlandish versions of the tale were not far from the truth.
Most refugees came in through the northern passes and were counted as they came, then funneled into one of the major refugee camps built around Stardown. Some refugees began accumulating on the eastern shore of the Stardown Lake and it took days for all of the small boats in the city to serve as ferries, taking them across the crystalline waters into the increasingly crowded and smelly hills outside the city.
When the camps held 10 million refugees they were lively. When the camps held 20 million refugees they approached capacity. When the camps held 50 million they were overcrowded and the planners began to worry about disease, and sanitation became virtually impossible. But the refugees didn't stop coming until they numbered close to 100 million. They lived 3 families to a shack, or on tops of roofs, in caves and trees. They built rafts and lashed them together and lived on the lake. They went up into the mountains and lived above the tree line, or across the lake and crowded all around its shores. The caves built under the hills by order of the SDF generals were reserved for children and caretakers - the future of the Cheldrun if things went poorly. The valley of Stardown became one solid sea of people.
Throughout the exodus Ichirou and Sousauryuko adamantly maintained a final line of defense beyond which no refugee was allowed to cross. Trenches were dug and staked. Razor wire was laid, and mines as well. A killing field for Goshi's army if the SDF was forced to fall back that far. The battle would not begin here, though. The battle would begin at the other end of the pass, hopefully Goshi would give up long before it came to a final stand.
The refugees happily worked. All those who were able bodied had a task, whether it was building more shelters, digging latrines, attending to the sick, or training under the Silver Phoenix Clan generals. No one was idle. No one was allowed to be. Many also joined the SDF though Ichirou preferred to keep the fighting force efficient rather than overcrowded with untrained cannon fodder. Limited by the amount of armaments in their possession only so many soldiers were useful. That number came to approximately 9 million. The largest fighting force anyone among the refugees had ever heard of since the days of the galactic empire. And still many times smaller than the reports arriving of the Goshi Army.
Frustrated with relying on Zipsum reconnaissance Ichirou turned to the Heroes of Karia Vitalus and asked them to go and learn more for him. So they climbed into the Sennin and flew Northwest, toward black clouds on the horizon.
Faithful
You brought me here.
Yes, you. I'm talking to you. Click at me all you want.
You brought me here, and you got me to bring everyone else where too. And now, for what?
All just some kind of trick, so we'd all be here to get, what, eaten? Burned? Killed all at once?
I'd be perfect for that, wouldn't I. Stupid. Yeah, I know. Easy to get me to do something. Just grab my nose and lead me around like I'm on rails.
Stupid.
I thought, if I could just do this, then it would be my part, and I could have some peace. I went all over the world, looking for how to make them free. I found the fire, and it - you! - spoke to me. Sent me back to Goshi, back to their new tower. I knew he wouldn't listen. I knew it! But I went up there anyway. And then...and then the Mecha, and then Julian and Trencher...but I - you! - brought down a hail of gems from the sky, from the damn sky, and metal-eating moths, and they - my people - are being fed in the wilderness while they travel by magic jungle plants, and...and all that, all that, for nothing? For a trick?
But peace got ground up by Suraisu-Oni, didn't he. Just like that, peace is dead. So no peace for me. No peace for anyone. Mokuzai gone and...and Jin says it doesn't add up anymore. We don't add up anymore.
And now Goshi is coming. They are coming for us. We've chosen our ground. You've chosen our ground. There are...there are more of them than I'd ever thought. More of us, but most of us aren't fighters at all.
So now everyone else makes plans, and I stay up talking to a clicking lump embedded in my shoulder. Deeper than that, now. Its me and I'm it.
You are...you are First Mind artifact. And the First Minds are the Enemy. So maybe you're the Enemy. Maybe you were made by a Resister, and maybe not. But I know I'm not the Enemy. And even if you were made by them, you're a tool. Maybe you've used me up to now, but I can use you too.
I can use you too. You're me now, you're part of me, and I'm part of you.
You brought me here, but I'll decide how this ends. How I end.
He closes his eyes, and grits his teeth together, begins to shake, hands clenching with the soft scrape of metal on metal, joints straining against themselves with a whine and the slow release of excess pressure through valves that save the powered joints from tearing themselves apart. Sudddenly he can see, and feel, the threads that the Machine God has woven through his body, how it has reached into his mind slowly, how it has made new connections, bound what was severed from before he was born, made him more whole. It has followed lines of...something he cannot quite see through his body, into every part. It is part of him and he is part of it. It is part of him but not all of him. Zipporah wakes up in alarm to a sudden stream of hammering clicks and the room filling with crackling heat radiating from Moses's shoulder. She calls up the water vapor in the air to rain on him, but it dances and evaporates immediately when it touches him. She watches in alarm as the clicking reaches a crescendo and then suddenly something slips, the sound changes, smooths, evens, quiets. Moses opens his eyes, but for a moment doesn't see her at all.
I. Decide.
Yes, you. I'm talking to you. Click at me all you want.
You brought me here, and you got me to bring everyone else where too. And now, for what?
All just some kind of trick, so we'd all be here to get, what, eaten? Burned? Killed all at once?
I'd be perfect for that, wouldn't I. Stupid. Yeah, I know. Easy to get me to do something. Just grab my nose and lead me around like I'm on rails.
Stupid.
I thought, if I could just do this, then it would be my part, and I could have some peace. I went all over the world, looking for how to make them free. I found the fire, and it - you! - spoke to me. Sent me back to Goshi, back to their new tower. I knew he wouldn't listen. I knew it! But I went up there anyway. And then...and then the Mecha, and then Julian and Trencher...but I - you! - brought down a hail of gems from the sky, from the damn sky, and metal-eating moths, and they - my people - are being fed in the wilderness while they travel by magic jungle plants, and...and all that, all that, for nothing? For a trick?
But peace got ground up by Suraisu-Oni, didn't he. Just like that, peace is dead. So no peace for me. No peace for anyone. Mokuzai gone and...and Jin says it doesn't add up anymore. We don't add up anymore.
And now Goshi is coming. They are coming for us. We've chosen our ground. You've chosen our ground. There are...there are more of them than I'd ever thought. More of us, but most of us aren't fighters at all.
So now everyone else makes plans, and I stay up talking to a clicking lump embedded in my shoulder. Deeper than that, now. Its me and I'm it.
You are...you are First Mind artifact. And the First Minds are the Enemy. So maybe you're the Enemy. Maybe you were made by a Resister, and maybe not. But I know I'm not the Enemy. And even if you were made by them, you're a tool. Maybe you've used me up to now, but I can use you too.
I can use you too. You're me now, you're part of me, and I'm part of you.
You brought me here, but I'll decide how this ends. How I end.
He closes his eyes, and grits his teeth together, begins to shake, hands clenching with the soft scrape of metal on metal, joints straining against themselves with a whine and the slow release of excess pressure through valves that save the powered joints from tearing themselves apart. Sudddenly he can see, and feel, the threads that the Machine God has woven through his body, how it has reached into his mind slowly, how it has made new connections, bound what was severed from before he was born, made him more whole. It has followed lines of...something he cannot quite see through his body, into every part. It is part of him and he is part of it. It is part of him but not all of him. Zipporah wakes up in alarm to a sudden stream of hammering clicks and the room filling with crackling heat radiating from Moses's shoulder. She calls up the water vapor in the air to rain on him, but it dances and evaporates immediately when it touches him. She watches in alarm as the clicking reaches a crescendo and then suddenly something slips, the sound changes, smooths, evens, quiets. Moses opens his eyes, but for a moment doesn't see her at all.
I. Decide.
Useful
For a while I'm at the army meetings with Ichirou and Kyoshi and Rei. They seem to think I should be there, and its where the tent Zip and I are staying in is. But soon its pretty clear that I'm not really helping much. Rei is talking about digging chevrons in the ground to channel infantry and force-multipliers and bulwarks and I don't even know what. She's some kind of genius or something. Maybe its all the minds she ate.
So pretty soon I just wander around the city for a while. People sort of collect around me, and I talk to them, and they tell me about Stardown and ask about where we've been and what we've done. They ask about Zipporah, and we try to explain about Prill. I know there are some of them, maybe a lot, that think...that think we're unnatural. No one says anything where they think we can hear but...Zip has those big ears. They're nice, you know, but they are big. Foxy. I say I don't care but I do.
There are too many people here. Its too open. I get headaches every day sometime in the afternoon now, ever since Eris...well, ever since she blew my brains out of my head so they had to grow back. And that scar.
Its so crowded, so I get to thinking. I ask some surveyors about the area. What's the bedrock like? How deep is the soil? How deep is the lake? How is it fed? Seepage? That kind of thing. I talk to as many people as I can - Jin-Kalys, the lizard - er - Anakarix even follows us around. He talks about...I think its math, but I'm not sure...and talks to Zipporah a lot. He seems really happy to have another Karian around to talk to besides Sloan and the scary Jevumm we haven't really seen since...well, the incident with HighDive.
She sure does enjoy being a hero.
I'm sort of done with it, so when I get the chance, I start digging tunnels. Its tiring work because, to get them done faster, I call on my Kata to grow almost as large as I can when I put everything into it. This doesn't last, so I have to rest after, but while I'm like that I get a lot of work done. I burn through a good bit of Blackrock, but when all those people from Geneva Prime start arriving, we'll have all the Blackrock we'd ever want.
It takes a long time, but I find a lot of Mechified who are good at this kind of stuff to come and shore up the tunnels where they need to, to brace and to reinforce. They get into digging themselves - it turns out, there are loads of them with similar upgrades to what I've got. I dunno...thousands. They're not large enough for all these people, but its all we have time for. And when the heat bombs start falling, they're better than tents.
There's now a big network of tunnels, a few meters across, with some larger rooms cut out and air vents cut down to them and that kind of thing. Some drainage for, you know, waste and stuff like that. They're dry because I cut them into the hills, so they're above the lake and don't get any of the seepage from that. Some people are already living up there because there just aren't places to live that have anything like walls or a roof anymore. The city keeps bursting over and over again. Some arrive and have thought things through, but others...haven't.
A few of the Mechified said that there's enough room in those tunnels for maybe a million people. More if they're just crammed in there for shelter when the fighting starts.
A lot of refugees keep coming, and a lot of them won't be fighting even if they wanted to. I had hoped...well, I had hoped that things would be better, but they aren't, so you make do. I can do enough work, while I'm here and its a bit quiet, to make up for not having enough time to do things right.
And then, all of a sudden, everything goes straight to shit.
So pretty soon I just wander around the city for a while. People sort of collect around me, and I talk to them, and they tell me about Stardown and ask about where we've been and what we've done. They ask about Zipporah, and we try to explain about Prill. I know there are some of them, maybe a lot, that think...that think we're unnatural. No one says anything where they think we can hear but...Zip has those big ears. They're nice, you know, but they are big. Foxy. I say I don't care but I do.
There are too many people here. Its too open. I get headaches every day sometime in the afternoon now, ever since Eris...well, ever since she blew my brains out of my head so they had to grow back. And that scar.
Its so crowded, so I get to thinking. I ask some surveyors about the area. What's the bedrock like? How deep is the soil? How deep is the lake? How is it fed? Seepage? That kind of thing. I talk to as many people as I can - Jin-Kalys, the lizard - er - Anakarix even follows us around. He talks about...I think its math, but I'm not sure...and talks to Zipporah a lot. He seems really happy to have another Karian around to talk to besides Sloan and the scary Jevumm we haven't really seen since...well, the incident with HighDive.
She sure does enjoy being a hero.
I'm sort of done with it, so when I get the chance, I start digging tunnels. Its tiring work because, to get them done faster, I call on my Kata to grow almost as large as I can when I put everything into it. This doesn't last, so I have to rest after, but while I'm like that I get a lot of work done. I burn through a good bit of Blackrock, but when all those people from Geneva Prime start arriving, we'll have all the Blackrock we'd ever want.
It takes a long time, but I find a lot of Mechified who are good at this kind of stuff to come and shore up the tunnels where they need to, to brace and to reinforce. They get into digging themselves - it turns out, there are loads of them with similar upgrades to what I've got. I dunno...thousands. They're not large enough for all these people, but its all we have time for. And when the heat bombs start falling, they're better than tents.
There's now a big network of tunnels, a few meters across, with some larger rooms cut out and air vents cut down to them and that kind of thing. Some drainage for, you know, waste and stuff like that. They're dry because I cut them into the hills, so they're above the lake and don't get any of the seepage from that. Some people are already living up there because there just aren't places to live that have anything like walls or a roof anymore. The city keeps bursting over and over again. Some arrive and have thought things through, but others...haven't.
A few of the Mechified said that there's enough room in those tunnels for maybe a million people. More if they're just crammed in there for shelter when the fighting starts.
A lot of refugees keep coming, and a lot of them won't be fighting even if they wanted to. I had hoped...well, I had hoped that things would be better, but they aren't, so you make do. I can do enough work, while I'm here and its a bit quiet, to make up for not having enough time to do things right.
And then, all of a sudden, everything goes straight to shit.
Guerrilla Tactics
Cuts-Through-Bone chewed Mazu leaf to help him hold still. Crouched under a fern he lay trying to take shallow breaths and not rustle the bush. The vanguard of the Goshi army was approaching and they must have no warning of the attack or it would fail. So he chewed and chewed and felt his limbs go tingly and relax.
Cuts-Through-Bone was of the Cloudclimber Tribe, but he was just as angry as the messenger from the Many Kicks Tribe had been, when he described what Goshi had done. The anger had been bubbling near the surface for a long time now for most Wild Zipsum. It was bound to explode, and explode it had.
There had never been such a massive or coordinated Zipsum offensive. Whole tribes had mobilized, disappeared into the jungle and reassembled as fighting units in the path of the Goshi army marching toward Stardown. Attacks were made daily on the supply train, on the scouting parties, on the vanguard itself. Out of the jungle thousands of Zipsum would materialize, poisoned blades on fists, and launch an assault that at most would last a minute or two. Afterward the jungle floor would be littered with corpses, vehicles would be sabotaged, and food supplies poisoned.
It gave Cuts-Through-Bone deep heart joy whenever a unit of Zipsum archers would launch volleys into the air, shift, run to a different location, and begin launching volleys anew from the opposite direction. Watching the Children of Steel run in panic from little shafts of wood made him laugh and laugh, and sometimes pee a little.
But he was no archer. He went in with the knives, flashing fast. They could not blink or hesitate because their bone and wood armor would disintegrate in one blow from a Mechified arm, or a stinging bullet. Sometimes his unit would rush into the fray and his knife would shatter on the first impact and he would run around screaming until his sense came back and he leapt up into the canopy. If the Cheldrun deployed blue-smoke he knew to run upwind or he would be dead. Many of his litter-mates were dead because they didn't run soon enough.
The noise and smell of the Cheldrun was unmistakable and could be detected for many kilometers. They marched in huge numbers. More than ever before. More than even the Zipsum, and the Zipsum are the manyiest of the Karians. They tried to avoid the Jungle, but too much Jungle was in the way to be avoided entirely. Instead, they rolled their machines over the wood. Huge metal behemoths belching black smoke and scaring the poor Jevumm hunters away. These machined left a charred trail of death across the jungle several kilometers wide, and through this channel the army marched.
There would be no question of the Zipsum defeating this army, though Cuts-Through-Bone boasted every time he went out that he killed the most powerful Cheldrun General during the fighting. Even in his agitated, drug-altered state, he knew that it was like attacking a mountain - fun for a while and you can graffiti your name with your knife, but nothing will come of it. Nevertheless, when you bury a knife in an unprotected thigh, or scratch the tip of your blade along a lily-white cheek and you know that it will swell up and ooze puss for days before they die... it is hard not to be very satisfied with yourself.
Cuts-Through-Bone was of the Cloudclimber Tribe, but he was just as angry as the messenger from the Many Kicks Tribe had been, when he described what Goshi had done. The anger had been bubbling near the surface for a long time now for most Wild Zipsum. It was bound to explode, and explode it had.
There had never been such a massive or coordinated Zipsum offensive. Whole tribes had mobilized, disappeared into the jungle and reassembled as fighting units in the path of the Goshi army marching toward Stardown. Attacks were made daily on the supply train, on the scouting parties, on the vanguard itself. Out of the jungle thousands of Zipsum would materialize, poisoned blades on fists, and launch an assault that at most would last a minute or two. Afterward the jungle floor would be littered with corpses, vehicles would be sabotaged, and food supplies poisoned.
It gave Cuts-Through-Bone deep heart joy whenever a unit of Zipsum archers would launch volleys into the air, shift, run to a different location, and begin launching volleys anew from the opposite direction. Watching the Children of Steel run in panic from little shafts of wood made him laugh and laugh, and sometimes pee a little.
But he was no archer. He went in with the knives, flashing fast. They could not blink or hesitate because their bone and wood armor would disintegrate in one blow from a Mechified arm, or a stinging bullet. Sometimes his unit would rush into the fray and his knife would shatter on the first impact and he would run around screaming until his sense came back and he leapt up into the canopy. If the Cheldrun deployed blue-smoke he knew to run upwind or he would be dead. Many of his litter-mates were dead because they didn't run soon enough.
The noise and smell of the Cheldrun was unmistakable and could be detected for many kilometers. They marched in huge numbers. More than ever before. More than even the Zipsum, and the Zipsum are the manyiest of the Karians. They tried to avoid the Jungle, but too much Jungle was in the way to be avoided entirely. Instead, they rolled their machines over the wood. Huge metal behemoths belching black smoke and scaring the poor Jevumm hunters away. These machined left a charred trail of death across the jungle several kilometers wide, and through this channel the army marched.
There would be no question of the Zipsum defeating this army, though Cuts-Through-Bone boasted every time he went out that he killed the most powerful Cheldrun General during the fighting. Even in his agitated, drug-altered state, he knew that it was like attacking a mountain - fun for a while and you can graffiti your name with your knife, but nothing will come of it. Nevertheless, when you bury a knife in an unprotected thigh, or scratch the tip of your blade along a lily-white cheek and you know that it will swell up and ooze puss for days before they die... it is hard not to be very satisfied with yourself.
In a Gogajin War Camp
Up a steep slope covered in scree, a hundred meters above the camp of the united clans, Grim sat alone between a pair of enormous standing stones. The stones were new. Monoliths erected just this afternoon, but likely to stand for millennia. Grim had determined that the clans would build these monuments at each place they camped, to mark their passage. He told the clans that it would be to display their glory to the world, so none of the other races would ever forget the season that the Gogajin marched united. In his heart, he also considered the possibility that it might be the only memorial left of his people's passing, if this offensive was a failure.
Below him the rowdy, merry sounds of a Gogajin gathering roared and tumbled about the landscape. With every clan represented, the racket could be deafening at times. On the other hand, even the Jevumm were leaving these travelers unmolested.
Someone scrabbled over the scree and came limping into view, a dark silhouette, illumined only by moonlight. By her pained gait he knew her for Keena, a clan-leader, a matriarch, and a wise one at that.
"You should be in the festivities, or in someone's bed, Keena."
With a grunt she sat down beside him. "I could say the same to you Grim, don't be an ass."
He smiled, showing his big flat teeth, and elbowed her in the ribs, a bit harder than he'd intended. "Well if you've come up here to chew on my balls, I've had enough today. A man can only take so much leadership and decision making. Then he has to sit quiet and drink mead until he pisses honey."
"The day you learn to piss honey is the day you might get me to chew on your balls. Till then, just pass me the flagon."
He gave her the mead and they sat in silence for a long time. To his surprise it felt better to sit silently with her beside him, than it did to sit alone.
"Keena," he started, "I've listened and I've listened to the advice of these Children of Steel. Ishikawa Tetsuro tells me things that are hardly to be believed. He tells me that the armies of Goshi will not only teleport and fall out of the sky, but they will roll across the land in metal fortresses. He tells me they will launch bombs that turn stone to liquid and people to ash. He tells me they will have things called cannons and artillery. None of this frightens me."
Keena just drank her mead and watched the encampment below.
"Having clawed my way out of the mines in Geneva Prime I knew some of this. I even knew, which is far more terrifying than all their weapons, that the Children of Steel are as numerous as pebbles on a mountainside. Ishikawa Tetsuro tells me that their population on Karia numbers over 400 million. It is a number I cannot even conceive of. What would 400 million Gogajin colts look like? Don't answer: a disaster, I know. With all the gathered might of all the clans at our disposal we have maybe a quarter of a million. Maybe. Still this does not frighten me."
He let the silence return for a few minutes, searching for the words he was after.
"We're Gogajin. We'll make our impact felt regardless of the odds. I'm not worried about my people doing their part. I couldn't be prouder to walk and work and fight and die alongside these people... It's just... High King? Me? I'm strong and I'm relentless, but I'm not wise like you Keena. I'm not..."
She tried to interrupt him then. He was being a damn fool and she was going to tell him so, but he talked right over her.
"It's more than me feeling out of my depth. It's like this whole thing, is bigger than us. I remember, when we were escaping from the mines. There were some people who helped us. When I was around them I felt like they were the kind of people who could pull this off. The kind who could keep it all from going to shit. One of them was a Vorax, the last Vorax I ever saw. She healed me with her tears. With her tears! It's like she could weep away the pains of the whole world if she tried. They were all like that - gifted."
"Grim, you idiot..." Keena interjected, but he gave her a firm look, and with his grizzled face he had especially firm looks.
"No Keena. I know I sound crazy, or like I'm forgetting who I am, but I'm not. I am Grim, Fiochmahr Clan. I am the strongest, fastest, stubbornest fucking Gogajin in this camp. I will out run, out throw, out crush, out fight, out drink, or out fuck anyone who says otherwise. But I'm also no fool and when I look up in that sky I see a universe which doesn't care how much you can lift or how far you can throw it. There are things at stake here beyond our ken, and there are people out there who have the power to influence things for good or ill, but I am not one of those people. The best I can do is gather all of these donkey-sons and daughters together to throw our might at the hungry maw of the beast and pray that it makes a difference..."
There was a long pause then, while Grim took the flagon back and drained it without taking a breath.
Keena looked at him appreciatively and he seemed to give her permission to speak, so she started softly, "Ah Grim. Even if what you say is true, what would we be if we didn't play our part? Could any Gogajin look themself in the face ever again if we didn't fight to our very last breath for what we love? If there is to be a future, I want to know that we will walk into it with our pride and honor intact."
In the moonlight she could see the tears glisten on his face even though he made no sound. His voice rumbled like stone as he said, "Then let us hope that the ones who hold the keys to the future decide to make it open for us."
Below him the rowdy, merry sounds of a Gogajin gathering roared and tumbled about the landscape. With every clan represented, the racket could be deafening at times. On the other hand, even the Jevumm were leaving these travelers unmolested.
Someone scrabbled over the scree and came limping into view, a dark silhouette, illumined only by moonlight. By her pained gait he knew her for Keena, a clan-leader, a matriarch, and a wise one at that.
"You should be in the festivities, or in someone's bed, Keena."
With a grunt she sat down beside him. "I could say the same to you Grim, don't be an ass."
He smiled, showing his big flat teeth, and elbowed her in the ribs, a bit harder than he'd intended. "Well if you've come up here to chew on my balls, I've had enough today. A man can only take so much leadership and decision making. Then he has to sit quiet and drink mead until he pisses honey."
"The day you learn to piss honey is the day you might get me to chew on your balls. Till then, just pass me the flagon."
He gave her the mead and they sat in silence for a long time. To his surprise it felt better to sit silently with her beside him, than it did to sit alone.
"Keena," he started, "I've listened and I've listened to the advice of these Children of Steel. Ishikawa Tetsuro tells me things that are hardly to be believed. He tells me that the armies of Goshi will not only teleport and fall out of the sky, but they will roll across the land in metal fortresses. He tells me they will launch bombs that turn stone to liquid and people to ash. He tells me they will have things called cannons and artillery. None of this frightens me."
Keena just drank her mead and watched the encampment below.
"Having clawed my way out of the mines in Geneva Prime I knew some of this. I even knew, which is far more terrifying than all their weapons, that the Children of Steel are as numerous as pebbles on a mountainside. Ishikawa Tetsuro tells me that their population on Karia numbers over 400 million. It is a number I cannot even conceive of. What would 400 million Gogajin colts look like? Don't answer: a disaster, I know. With all the gathered might of all the clans at our disposal we have maybe a quarter of a million. Maybe. Still this does not frighten me."
He let the silence return for a few minutes, searching for the words he was after.
"We're Gogajin. We'll make our impact felt regardless of the odds. I'm not worried about my people doing their part. I couldn't be prouder to walk and work and fight and die alongside these people... It's just... High King? Me? I'm strong and I'm relentless, but I'm not wise like you Keena. I'm not..."
She tried to interrupt him then. He was being a damn fool and she was going to tell him so, but he talked right over her.
"It's more than me feeling out of my depth. It's like this whole thing, is bigger than us. I remember, when we were escaping from the mines. There were some people who helped us. When I was around them I felt like they were the kind of people who could pull this off. The kind who could keep it all from going to shit. One of them was a Vorax, the last Vorax I ever saw. She healed me with her tears. With her tears! It's like she could weep away the pains of the whole world if she tried. They were all like that - gifted."
"Grim, you idiot..." Keena interjected, but he gave her a firm look, and with his grizzled face he had especially firm looks.
"No Keena. I know I sound crazy, or like I'm forgetting who I am, but I'm not. I am Grim, Fiochmahr Clan. I am the strongest, fastest, stubbornest fucking Gogajin in this camp. I will out run, out throw, out crush, out fight, out drink, or out fuck anyone who says otherwise. But I'm also no fool and when I look up in that sky I see a universe which doesn't care how much you can lift or how far you can throw it. There are things at stake here beyond our ken, and there are people out there who have the power to influence things for good or ill, but I am not one of those people. The best I can do is gather all of these donkey-sons and daughters together to throw our might at the hungry maw of the beast and pray that it makes a difference..."
There was a long pause then, while Grim took the flagon back and drained it without taking a breath.
Keena looked at him appreciatively and he seemed to give her permission to speak, so she started softly, "Ah Grim. Even if what you say is true, what would we be if we didn't play our part? Could any Gogajin look themself in the face ever again if we didn't fight to our very last breath for what we love? If there is to be a future, I want to know that we will walk into it with our pride and honor intact."
In the moonlight she could see the tears glisten on his face even though he made no sound. His voice rumbled like stone as he said, "Then let us hope that the ones who hold the keys to the future decide to make it open for us."
A Dead Little Girl
I leave Rei's tent and go find a place off to myself. I find one near the generators they have set up, and I run a cable out to a heavy metal table. Someone goes and gets me a chair. Its weird not doing things myself, even now. I sit down and feel a sigh slip out. Too much is happening. I can't think about it all. And if I made a mistake, bringing all those people here to die...
For what feels like the hundredth time today I wonder if Kyoshi would fly me to Marina. I know its gone way past that, but...I tried, and failed. Too heavy. Too much.
I shake my head, huff out another harsher sigh and lay the thing down in front of me. In the glare of the electric lights it looks like a big, wilted flower. I can see veins of some kind of metal through it. I look for a power source, and can't find one. It must run on psychic energy or something.
I spend some time looking at it closely, and then I separate out some leads from the cable and attach them to what seem like nodes in the webwork. When I switch the power on, the glove lights up. I can see channels of energy flowing through it. They're just fading into the air, becoming heat, because in this they don't do anything, but it lets me see where the web is broken, torn, thinned, stretched...I am about to ground myself and get to work before it hits me.
There's the red glow, there, and then its...healed. Looks good as new, the webs of energy still shining to my eyes. Now, seeing more of how it fits together, I can see how it might be modified. I couldn't tell you, or draw up a diagram or anything. I just...see. I hunch down and get to work, careful but quick.
When I'm done, I detach the leads after I cut the power.
I think I saw where they brought Aimi. Kyoshi is probably still talking to his brother.
***
She's there, and looks surprised to see me, then looks like the cocky nothing she usually gives everyone.
"Looking to sow your wild rice already, Moses? Why, your litter isn't even born yet." She gives me a look that would be alluring from anyone else. Her eyes are still like one-way glass.
"No. I've, uh, I've actually got a present."
"Listen. Moses. I'm taken. If I wanted to fuck a machine, I'm sure I could make that happen without all the smell and the talking. So if you've got flowers or candy or something, I'm really flattered, but -"
She shuts right up when I hold up the glove. Yeah, Aimi, it isn't that hard to figure out what you want.
"I've seen you playing around with weapons you find. Well, not playing. I know you're dangerous. But they just don't fit the bill, do they?" She just watches my hand. I know she's measuring for a leap. "Its good as new. Better than new, actually. I figured, you know, the stuff we end up fighting, its usually bad to get close. So now you can sort of discharge the energy you make from a distance. Not that far, maybe ten meters or so, and it won't do as much as it does otherwise, but..." She's breathing harder. I suddenly feel bad and disturbed all at once. I want her to listen, though, this once, so I toss her the glove. She snatches it out of the air with a flash and slides it over her arm in a motion that's almost too quick to see. She clenches her deadly little fist and out flashes the pink blade.
She looks up at me, almost unguarded, almost actually here. "I don't get it, Moses. What's the deal? You're not trying to seduce me - it must be the lack of a tail. I figured Rei would get this fixed and give it back to me. But you? It doesn't add up."
How to say it?
"When we met, a year ago, in the control room for the lift out of Goshi Mine...you know, I've never been afraid of you. Don't get all offended. I know you're an assassin, but...after a cable-car load of tentacled eyeless, you weren't that scary. What scared me was...I was scared for the other people you might hurt, the other people you could get to. That we might have sacrificed so much just to be free, and you could ruin it all on a whim, or because it was your job. It was...I didn't understand how someone could be like that." Her eyes are glass again. "No! Listen, I'm not done."
I look at her until she stops pretending to be admiring her glove. "Listen. I...know what it means...to be made for a purpose. One you sort of chose, maybe, but never really got to choose. One that got chosen for you, where you just...fit into bigger things that were happening around you. I know what that's like. And..." shit this is hard "and I know you've done terrible things. On a whim, as a job, whatever. But now I know a lot more about that too. Maybe this whole time, I had to go out into the world, and suffer, over and over again, until I turned into the person who could call down gems out of the sky, rust out a city of millions of people. All of the cities. Refugees, homeless, hungry, because of me."
"How many people did I kill, do you think? I...don't have the guts to even ask. You think you've killed that many, Aimi? I doubt it. You'd be one busy girl. And I did it all, and now, it looks like...like it might have all been a mistake. I might have done just what the Enemy wanted. I can't even know if the things I've done...if they were right. I can't even know if they were right."
A long pause stretches out between us. Now she's looking at me, and I'm looking away.
"If...if we get through this...if we are going to survive...we can't know what will happen. Its too much. No one understands. Elder Moon doesn't understand. Jin-Kalys doesn't understand. We don't understand. Maybe Mokuzai would see it, but he's gone. Maybe peace is gone. But, " I look back at her "but I know, I know that if we don't trust, then we'll die. If we can't trust, we'll all die, one way or another. No trust, no hope. That's it." I feel myself trail off.
She smirks slowly and broadly. "Moses. Are you saying you trust me? Because I'm still a very bad girl." She clenches her little fist again and the blade leaps to life.
I don't move, and she wilts, just a little, thrown again. I don't know why I want her to see. I don't know if she can. Is she going to understand me, now? Is she going to forgive me? Hardly. I might as well ask the lamp-post outside for reassurance. She's a dead little girl. Maybe not dead, not yet. I guess we'll see, now.
"Maybe. Kyoshi does. Rei does." I pause. "And look. I don't think you can stop me, if it comes to it. And I don't sleep anymore. You seem to like Zip. Rei is family. You love Kyoshi. I don't know if anything can kill Baldr. HighDive can kill anything, and I think you know it after the fight today. And Una saved your life, so killing her would be...just really sick. I think you'd need a reason to kill Raoul. I wouldn't try Ichirou. And...as far as Kyoshi knows, you spared Namie. So I told myself those things, and I decided to give you the glove back."
"And who knows? Maybe, I hope, I won't regret it."
I go out just as Kyoshi is going in. He looks alarmed, sees Aimi with her blade out, looks back at me, but I'm still walking. I'll let her tell him all about it.
***
I get lost looking for my own tent, and when I come in I wake Zipporah up. She rolls over to look at me from under the covers - I realize its cold outside and close the tent flap. The brazier inside starts re-heating the small space.
"Moses...are you going to sleep tonight?"
I stand there for a moment, take a deep breath and feel myself unwind. I give her my best sly smirk.
"Nope." And I don't leave the warmth of the tent after that.
For what feels like the hundredth time today I wonder if Kyoshi would fly me to Marina. I know its gone way past that, but...I tried, and failed. Too heavy. Too much.
I shake my head, huff out another harsher sigh and lay the thing down in front of me. In the glare of the electric lights it looks like a big, wilted flower. I can see veins of some kind of metal through it. I look for a power source, and can't find one. It must run on psychic energy or something.
I spend some time looking at it closely, and then I separate out some leads from the cable and attach them to what seem like nodes in the webwork. When I switch the power on, the glove lights up. I can see channels of energy flowing through it. They're just fading into the air, becoming heat, because in this they don't do anything, but it lets me see where the web is broken, torn, thinned, stretched...I am about to ground myself and get to work before it hits me.
There's the red glow, there, and then its...healed. Looks good as new, the webs of energy still shining to my eyes. Now, seeing more of how it fits together, I can see how it might be modified. I couldn't tell you, or draw up a diagram or anything. I just...see. I hunch down and get to work, careful but quick.
When I'm done, I detach the leads after I cut the power.
I think I saw where they brought Aimi. Kyoshi is probably still talking to his brother.
***
She's there, and looks surprised to see me, then looks like the cocky nothing she usually gives everyone.
"Looking to sow your wild rice already, Moses? Why, your litter isn't even born yet." She gives me a look that would be alluring from anyone else. Her eyes are still like one-way glass.
"No. I've, uh, I've actually got a present."
"Listen. Moses. I'm taken. If I wanted to fuck a machine, I'm sure I could make that happen without all the smell and the talking. So if you've got flowers or candy or something, I'm really flattered, but -"
She shuts right up when I hold up the glove. Yeah, Aimi, it isn't that hard to figure out what you want.
"I've seen you playing around with weapons you find. Well, not playing. I know you're dangerous. But they just don't fit the bill, do they?" She just watches my hand. I know she's measuring for a leap. "Its good as new. Better than new, actually. I figured, you know, the stuff we end up fighting, its usually bad to get close. So now you can sort of discharge the energy you make from a distance. Not that far, maybe ten meters or so, and it won't do as much as it does otherwise, but..." She's breathing harder. I suddenly feel bad and disturbed all at once. I want her to listen, though, this once, so I toss her the glove. She snatches it out of the air with a flash and slides it over her arm in a motion that's almost too quick to see. She clenches her deadly little fist and out flashes the pink blade.
She looks up at me, almost unguarded, almost actually here. "I don't get it, Moses. What's the deal? You're not trying to seduce me - it must be the lack of a tail. I figured Rei would get this fixed and give it back to me. But you? It doesn't add up."
How to say it?
"When we met, a year ago, in the control room for the lift out of Goshi Mine...you know, I've never been afraid of you. Don't get all offended. I know you're an assassin, but...after a cable-car load of tentacled eyeless, you weren't that scary. What scared me was...I was scared for the other people you might hurt, the other people you could get to. That we might have sacrificed so much just to be free, and you could ruin it all on a whim, or because it was your job. It was...I didn't understand how someone could be like that." Her eyes are glass again. "No! Listen, I'm not done."
I look at her until she stops pretending to be admiring her glove. "Listen. I...know what it means...to be made for a purpose. One you sort of chose, maybe, but never really got to choose. One that got chosen for you, where you just...fit into bigger things that were happening around you. I know what that's like. And..." shit this is hard "and I know you've done terrible things. On a whim, as a job, whatever. But now I know a lot more about that too. Maybe this whole time, I had to go out into the world, and suffer, over and over again, until I turned into the person who could call down gems out of the sky, rust out a city of millions of people. All of the cities. Refugees, homeless, hungry, because of me."
"How many people did I kill, do you think? I...don't have the guts to even ask. You think you've killed that many, Aimi? I doubt it. You'd be one busy girl. And I did it all, and now, it looks like...like it might have all been a mistake. I might have done just what the Enemy wanted. I can't even know if the things I've done...if they were right. I can't even know if they were right."
A long pause stretches out between us. Now she's looking at me, and I'm looking away.
"If...if we get through this...if we are going to survive...we can't know what will happen. Its too much. No one understands. Elder Moon doesn't understand. Jin-Kalys doesn't understand. We don't understand. Maybe Mokuzai would see it, but he's gone. Maybe peace is gone. But, " I look back at her "but I know, I know that if we don't trust, then we'll die. If we can't trust, we'll all die, one way or another. No trust, no hope. That's it." I feel myself trail off.
She smirks slowly and broadly. "Moses. Are you saying you trust me? Because I'm still a very bad girl." She clenches her little fist again and the blade leaps to life.
I don't move, and she wilts, just a little, thrown again. I don't know why I want her to see. I don't know if she can. Is she going to understand me, now? Is she going to forgive me? Hardly. I might as well ask the lamp-post outside for reassurance. She's a dead little girl. Maybe not dead, not yet. I guess we'll see, now.
"Maybe. Kyoshi does. Rei does." I pause. "And look. I don't think you can stop me, if it comes to it. And I don't sleep anymore. You seem to like Zip. Rei is family. You love Kyoshi. I don't know if anything can kill Baldr. HighDive can kill anything, and I think you know it after the fight today. And Una saved your life, so killing her would be...just really sick. I think you'd need a reason to kill Raoul. I wouldn't try Ichirou. And...as far as Kyoshi knows, you spared Namie. So I told myself those things, and I decided to give you the glove back."
"And who knows? Maybe, I hope, I won't regret it."
I go out just as Kyoshi is going in. He looks alarmed, sees Aimi with her blade out, looks back at me, but I'm still walking. I'll let her tell him all about it.
***
I get lost looking for my own tent, and when I come in I wake Zipporah up. She rolls over to look at me from under the covers - I realize its cold outside and close the tent flap. The brazier inside starts re-heating the small space.
"Moses...are you going to sleep tonight?"
I stand there for a moment, take a deep breath and feel myself unwind. I give her my best sly smirk.
"Nope." And I don't leave the warmth of the tent after that.
Episode 33: Karia on the March
I wake up after having worse nightmares than usual. I dreamt that...hmm... I walk down the hallway to Kiyoshi's room and quietly push the door open a crack. Aimi is sleeping on the bed, and I lurch to the floor as reality hits me again. It really did happen and I really do have to face her every day now.
After a dazed minute I pull myself to my feet and follow the sounds of Kiyoshi doing his sword forms. I lean against the doorway with crossed arms until he finishes. He really is an amazing swordsman. His abilities of concentration alone put nearly everyone I've known to shame. He finishes and says good morning. I return the nicety and cut to the chase - before a certain someone can interrupt us.
"I hope that you really care for Aimi; because she loves you, and not like I love you." I give him a meaningful look. "If you don't respond in kind she may do something worse than try to kill herself." For a moment Kiyoshi pauses, and looks almost vulnerable, "But she's so young." I can tell that he does indeed care for her, but still holds on to his stupid Allskin sensibilities about how things should be. "I think you're going to have to look past that brother," I say gently.
Great Sages how I hate to be the one to encourage my brother to treat Aimi well! But after he (with some help) saved her from self-inflicted death, he can't just keep her as a friend or sparring buddy. He might not get that, but I've seen how she looks at him - or tries not to look at him. Kiyoshi is the person who cut through years and years of horrid training by Mama Pain and Dr. Soren. She's not going to let him be anything but her everything.
Kiyoshi nods, "Yes, I will care for Aimi." I smile supportively, but my heart creaks a little. Now I have to share my brother. I ask if he'll spar with a me for a bit to try and shake off my dreams... If only my dreams didn't follow me out into the daylight.
All of us separate on various tasks. I go get some clothes for Aimi to wear (deciding on some assassin-proper leather pants and a short kimono to tie over the top), as well as a few sundry extras. I place her clothes by the door and work on sharpening Griever after I punished it so sorely on my bed frame.
Late in the day, we all start trickling back in, and Aimi (thankfully garbed) pops into the room with us. She's painfully cheery saying hello to us all. My better nature thinks to ask if she's hungry. Suddenly realizing that she is, I beckon for her to follow me. We walk down the hall side-by-side, and I hear a some murmur from Kiyoshi about maybe not such a good idea... "Is there something besides birdseed?" she asks. I make a face, "Blech. I normally eat meat. Raw. Which you might not like either. We'll find you some normal Cheldrun food."
We sit eating together for a good while. Her asking me either very ignorant or very intentionally embarrassing questions. I try to answer as if I was talking to an innocent adolescent, which she is not, but it helps me keep my temper under control. Just when I get up the guts to ask about her motives for helping Namie, the rest of the group joins us. She asks Moses if he's going to start moralizing with her now too. "Uh, no." he stammers, then goes to leave. That surprises me; I thought for sure Moses would want a serious talk/smack-down with her, but then again the poor man is extremely overwhelmed.
I take him some food on my way to bed. He asks for the fork, then commences shoveling the food into his mouth extremely quickly. I guess he's been hungry! About ten seconds later an empty plate clatters to the floor, and he exhales. We chat for a bit about what he's been doing, and his main problems. I tell him I'll see if I can get crops to speed grow so that the people can take them for supplies. Wishing him goodnight, I wonder why I even bother adding the 'good' anymore.
Waking up, I find that Aimi has spread an entire arsenal out on the large table in the common area. "Wow." I can't help but say. She asks for a couple opinions, then I finally have presence of mind to ask,"What happened to your gauntlet-thing?" Her face kind of falls, "Oh, I smashed it. I don't know where it is." "Hmm." I mutter, "I think Rei had something like a gauntlet with her, but I'm not sure if it's yours." Aimi looks a bit surprised, "Rei didn't mention it to me." I shrug. Great, the sibling tiffs begin already!
I spend four oh-so exciting hours standing in the middle of a field, letting the energy from Karia flow through me, when finally the crop is ready for harvesting. Actually thrilled at the last, I fly quickly to our departure point to tell Moses about my success. Being a bit late I just land quietly on the stage and wait for Moses to say his piece. He bows his head at the end, holding Zipporah's hand. The sky begins to ripple (with water?), and I hope he knows what he's doing this time, because that box on his back is ticking again.
Suddenly the city grows. I mean everything that could possibly flourish - does. Giant trees, vines and bushes suddenly reach maturity, flower, bear fruit, then wither, leaving behind sustenance for his people. And then all the rail cars sprout arms and begin filling themselves up with the food! I am absolutely amazed, and then I am really upset.
I walk up behind Moses: "You could have told me you know. I could have done something more beneficial than growing a two-kilometer-diameter crop the whole morning - apparently." Moses looks sheepish, as he is so good at doing, "I didn't know what was going to happen." I try and look put out, but he didn't know what the first two 'things' would do, so why would he expect this one? "Oh, okay then. It's really amazing Moses." He nods humbly.
***
We all make it onto the Senin and head for the Grand Chantry for the regrettable (in so many ways) task of delivering Mokuzai's head. Several hours later Kiyoshi finds us a nice open landing spot right near the remains of Inari's Grandmother. Even this far away from the Chantry, we are greeted by Zipsum emmmisaries as we deboard. Sings-Like-Frog welcomes us and begs forgiveness for the lack of several (only-the-Prill-worry-about-them type) formalities.
We proceed first to the Choir of the Dead and Mokuzai's grandson - Twilight. He greets us warmly despite the reason for our visit. Many of us offer condolences, and he chides us all gently; he reminds us that it is he who should be doing the comforting - not the other way round. We are offered to stay vigil, or time to speak with a choir member, or freedom of the Chantry as we desire. Rei and I chose to be heard by the choir, each in separate rooms, for much of the night. I have the loss of all my people and guilt over not saving Mokuzai to unload. The idea of facing Elder Moon the next day seems much more daunting than the oni that killed her mate. The Prill that speaks to me at long length wonders what would give me closure, would a ritual help?
I nod. It seems just the thing. I think I would warm my heart beyond measure to know that anyone but me cares that the Vorax are all gone. After the sun rises, Mokuzai's effigy (with his real head) is processed out for the Prill death rites. Just as with elder Winter, at the end of the ritual, Mokuzai's remains turn into shining motes of light that disperse into the world. At least Karia has Peace, if not us. I try not to see Elder Moon standing stiffly to receive condolences from many Prill. Much to my horror, after the crowd disperses, she comes over to us.
"Would you join me for the reception?" She doesn't look angry or bitter towards us, and we guardedly accept her invitation. After some exchanged niceties and polite conversation I can't hold in the guilt any longer. "Elder Moon, we can't express how sorry we are that we couldn't save him. We really tried." I try not to cry as to make a mockery of her much greater grief. She actually smiles sadly and says, "Child, I have never been able to keep Mokuzai from doing what he wanted to do. I certainly don't blame you for his stubbornness." I exhale and nod solemnly.
We decide we're going to leave the next day. It seems that I will miss witnessing the Vorax farewell rite, but other matters are more pressing than my cultural ego. We say our goodbyes, including to Moses' new good-family. Apparently he survived meeting Zipporah's kin. As we enter the open area where the Senin rests we see Inari's Grandmother surrounded by the Choir of the Dead. One comes to ask if I have some memento of the other Vorax, or some feathers of mine own. I am loath to part with the book of Vorax that visited the Grand Chantry (that was given to me that morning) so I give a handful of my feathers. They are more Vorax-y anyways.
The Choir continues in a spectacular ritual which culminates in a glowing ghost-image of Inari's Grandmother standing up, and its leaves filled with flying Vorax...tons and tons of them. Tears fall gratefully down my face. A Choir member approaches me and I hear something about "always tended" and "Vorax never forgotten". I try to vocalize an unspeakable thankfulness and slowly join the others on the Senin. As we fly away, it's long minutes before the shining light from the new memorial disappears from view. We will be remembered.
After a dazed minute I pull myself to my feet and follow the sounds of Kiyoshi doing his sword forms. I lean against the doorway with crossed arms until he finishes. He really is an amazing swordsman. His abilities of concentration alone put nearly everyone I've known to shame. He finishes and says good morning. I return the nicety and cut to the chase - before a certain someone can interrupt us.
"I hope that you really care for Aimi; because she loves you, and not like I love you." I give him a meaningful look. "If you don't respond in kind she may do something worse than try to kill herself." For a moment Kiyoshi pauses, and looks almost vulnerable, "But she's so young." I can tell that he does indeed care for her, but still holds on to his stupid Allskin sensibilities about how things should be. "I think you're going to have to look past that brother," I say gently.
Great Sages how I hate to be the one to encourage my brother to treat Aimi well! But after he (with some help) saved her from self-inflicted death, he can't just keep her as a friend or sparring buddy. He might not get that, but I've seen how she looks at him - or tries not to look at him. Kiyoshi is the person who cut through years and years of horrid training by Mama Pain and Dr. Soren. She's not going to let him be anything but her everything.
Kiyoshi nods, "Yes, I will care for Aimi." I smile supportively, but my heart creaks a little. Now I have to share my brother. I ask if he'll spar with a me for a bit to try and shake off my dreams... If only my dreams didn't follow me out into the daylight.
All of us separate on various tasks. I go get some clothes for Aimi to wear (deciding on some assassin-proper leather pants and a short kimono to tie over the top), as well as a few sundry extras. I place her clothes by the door and work on sharpening Griever after I punished it so sorely on my bed frame.
Late in the day, we all start trickling back in, and Aimi (thankfully garbed) pops into the room with us. She's painfully cheery saying hello to us all. My better nature thinks to ask if she's hungry. Suddenly realizing that she is, I beckon for her to follow me. We walk down the hall side-by-side, and I hear a some murmur from Kiyoshi about maybe not such a good idea... "Is there something besides birdseed?" she asks. I make a face, "Blech. I normally eat meat. Raw. Which you might not like either. We'll find you some normal Cheldrun food."
We sit eating together for a good while. Her asking me either very ignorant or very intentionally embarrassing questions. I try to answer as if I was talking to an innocent adolescent, which she is not, but it helps me keep my temper under control. Just when I get up the guts to ask about her motives for helping Namie, the rest of the group joins us. She asks Moses if he's going to start moralizing with her now too. "Uh, no." he stammers, then goes to leave. That surprises me; I thought for sure Moses would want a serious talk/smack-down with her, but then again the poor man is extremely overwhelmed.
I take him some food on my way to bed. He asks for the fork, then commences shoveling the food into his mouth extremely quickly. I guess he's been hungry! About ten seconds later an empty plate clatters to the floor, and he exhales. We chat for a bit about what he's been doing, and his main problems. I tell him I'll see if I can get crops to speed grow so that the people can take them for supplies. Wishing him goodnight, I wonder why I even bother adding the 'good' anymore.
Waking up, I find that Aimi has spread an entire arsenal out on the large table in the common area. "Wow." I can't help but say. She asks for a couple opinions, then I finally have presence of mind to ask,"What happened to your gauntlet-thing?" Her face kind of falls, "Oh, I smashed it. I don't know where it is." "Hmm." I mutter, "I think Rei had something like a gauntlet with her, but I'm not sure if it's yours." Aimi looks a bit surprised, "Rei didn't mention it to me." I shrug. Great, the sibling tiffs begin already!
I spend four oh-so exciting hours standing in the middle of a field, letting the energy from Karia flow through me, when finally the crop is ready for harvesting. Actually thrilled at the last, I fly quickly to our departure point to tell Moses about my success. Being a bit late I just land quietly on the stage and wait for Moses to say his piece. He bows his head at the end, holding Zipporah's hand. The sky begins to ripple (with water?), and I hope he knows what he's doing this time, because that box on his back is ticking again.
Suddenly the city grows. I mean everything that could possibly flourish - does. Giant trees, vines and bushes suddenly reach maturity, flower, bear fruit, then wither, leaving behind sustenance for his people. And then all the rail cars sprout arms and begin filling themselves up with the food! I am absolutely amazed, and then I am really upset.
I walk up behind Moses: "You could have told me you know. I could have done something more beneficial than growing a two-kilometer-diameter crop the whole morning - apparently." Moses looks sheepish, as he is so good at doing, "I didn't know what was going to happen." I try and look put out, but he didn't know what the first two 'things' would do, so why would he expect this one? "Oh, okay then. It's really amazing Moses." He nods humbly.
***
We all make it onto the Senin and head for the Grand Chantry for the regrettable (in so many ways) task of delivering Mokuzai's head. Several hours later Kiyoshi finds us a nice open landing spot right near the remains of Inari's Grandmother. Even this far away from the Chantry, we are greeted by Zipsum emmmisaries as we deboard. Sings-Like-Frog welcomes us and begs forgiveness for the lack of several (only-the-Prill-worry-about-them type) formalities.
We proceed first to the Choir of the Dead and Mokuzai's grandson - Twilight. He greets us warmly despite the reason for our visit. Many of us offer condolences, and he chides us all gently; he reminds us that it is he who should be doing the comforting - not the other way round. We are offered to stay vigil, or time to speak with a choir member, or freedom of the Chantry as we desire. Rei and I chose to be heard by the choir, each in separate rooms, for much of the night. I have the loss of all my people and guilt over not saving Mokuzai to unload. The idea of facing Elder Moon the next day seems much more daunting than the oni that killed her mate. The Prill that speaks to me at long length wonders what would give me closure, would a ritual help?
I nod. It seems just the thing. I think I would warm my heart beyond measure to know that anyone but me cares that the Vorax are all gone. After the sun rises, Mokuzai's effigy (with his real head) is processed out for the Prill death rites. Just as with elder Winter, at the end of the ritual, Mokuzai's remains turn into shining motes of light that disperse into the world. At least Karia has Peace, if not us. I try not to see Elder Moon standing stiffly to receive condolences from many Prill. Much to my horror, after the crowd disperses, she comes over to us.
"Would you join me for the reception?" She doesn't look angry or bitter towards us, and we guardedly accept her invitation. After some exchanged niceties and polite conversation I can't hold in the guilt any longer. "Elder Moon, we can't express how sorry we are that we couldn't save him. We really tried." I try not to cry as to make a mockery of her much greater grief. She actually smiles sadly and says, "Child, I have never been able to keep Mokuzai from doing what he wanted to do. I certainly don't blame you for his stubbornness." I exhale and nod solemnly.
We decide we're going to leave the next day. It seems that I will miss witnessing the Vorax farewell rite, but other matters are more pressing than my cultural ego. We say our goodbyes, including to Moses' new good-family. Apparently he survived meeting Zipporah's kin. As we enter the open area where the Senin rests we see Inari's Grandmother surrounded by the Choir of the Dead. One comes to ask if I have some memento of the other Vorax, or some feathers of mine own. I am loath to part with the book of Vorax that visited the Grand Chantry (that was given to me that morning) so I give a handful of my feathers. They are more Vorax-y anyways.
The Choir continues in a spectacular ritual which culminates in a glowing ghost-image of Inari's Grandmother standing up, and its leaves filled with flying Vorax...tons and tons of them. Tears fall gratefully down my face. A Choir member approaches me and I hear something about "always tended" and "Vorax never forgotten". I try to vocalize an unspeakable thankfulness and slowly join the others on the Senin. As we fly away, it's long minutes before the shining light from the new memorial disappears from view. We will be remembered.
Family Ties
A wisp of smoke is hard to see through jungle foliage in the middle of the night, on the night of the new moon.
Arrow teleported to a spot high enough in the sky that he would have time to get his bearings during the fall and choose a good spot in the canopy to disLocate into. It was quick. It was silent. He sent his thoughts through his earbud, I'm in, send the others. Seconds later the air was filling with his compatriots.
Timing, he reminded himself, would be crucial. Not speed. Timing. There was no way to be faster than a Zipsum, but you might catch them by surprise, if you were careful. Therefore, Arrow sat patiently, waiting for his compatriots to find similar perches in silence. They communicated by thought, avoiding even gestures that might rustle a tree branch and alert their sleeping quarry.
Patience and timing, were virtues Arrow prided himself on. They were his keys to survival. A Lieutenant in the Goshi army, a veteran Hei-Shi, and a survivor of no less than two encounters with the outlaws (once on the deck of the Rodan, and once at a flop house in Geneva Minor), Arrow made a habit of not getting himself killed - even when it seemed like Goshi command had it in for him, like tonight.
At his signal the first two units began disLocating into and out of Zipsum nests. Pink blades flickered to life sedating the sleeping Zipsum and their unconscious bodies were tossed into padded crates one on top of the other. Even as silent and as well coordinated as this effort was, it wasn't more than half a minute before the conclave began to stir, to awaken, and to realize they were under attack.
Now. Arrow sent the single word command out through the network.
In perfect unison the second two units of Hei-Shi deployed specially prepared gas bombs. They hissed to life all over the grotto as enraged Zipsum were drawing bows and grabbing wicked curved knives. The combination of steam and a neural destabilizer sent the Zipsum warriors into uncontrolled paroxysms as their bodies involuntarily began to shift forms and they lost all control of their extremities. While the blueish smoke wafted around trembling Zipsum bodies could be seen everywhere.
With the gas bombs deployed the rest of the Hei-Shi, including Arrow, leapt into action. It would be no use to try to contain the whole tribe. Some Zipsum had already escaped through underground burrows, or out small holes in the trees, or just by running really goddamn fast. But Arrow was pleasantly surprised by how many they had caught. Occasionally a conscious one would dive at him and he would happily bring a bluish blade into being on his fist and dispatch the maddened animal. His orders were to capture as many as possible, but he'd let his men know that they should defend themselves with lethal force. No playing games and getting injured.
While the rest of the Hei-Shi were fighting and gathering Zipsum bodies to be tossed into crates, Arrow looked around for the person that had been described to him. She would be painted in the colors of the tribe and wearing a chain of shrunken Cheldrun skulls. He found her tiny squirrel body quivering on the ground in a large hollowed out trunk of a Sygola Tree. Without hesitating he stepped on her hind legs with all his weight crushing them both, then he picked her up and brought her eyes level with his own. The pain in her legs made her lucid and as she looked at him her eyes narrowed in anger.
"Are you Living-Scarred-Heart, mother of High-Dive-Bludgeon?" He asked to be certain, according to his information she was the only one in the tribe who would probably understand Cheldrun.
She didn't reply but spit in his face, which he took as an affirmative. In response he squeezed until he felt a rib snap and walked back toward the rest of the Hei-Shi.
He tossed her into one of the crates that was nearly full, closed it and sealed it. Looking around, the work was almost done. Plenty had escaped, and one of his Hei-Shi had taken a poisoned blade in the neck, but otherwise it had gone according to plan.
The voice of Goshi Command came in over his earbud, Did you find them?
Yeah, he sent back, Tell Drives-Like-Oni that we got his whole motherfucking tribe.
Arrow teleported to a spot high enough in the sky that he would have time to get his bearings during the fall and choose a good spot in the canopy to disLocate into. It was quick. It was silent. He sent his thoughts through his earbud, I'm in, send the others. Seconds later the air was filling with his compatriots.
Timing, he reminded himself, would be crucial. Not speed. Timing. There was no way to be faster than a Zipsum, but you might catch them by surprise, if you were careful. Therefore, Arrow sat patiently, waiting for his compatriots to find similar perches in silence. They communicated by thought, avoiding even gestures that might rustle a tree branch and alert their sleeping quarry.
Patience and timing, were virtues Arrow prided himself on. They were his keys to survival. A Lieutenant in the Goshi army, a veteran Hei-Shi, and a survivor of no less than two encounters with the outlaws (once on the deck of the Rodan, and once at a flop house in Geneva Minor), Arrow made a habit of not getting himself killed - even when it seemed like Goshi command had it in for him, like tonight.
At his signal the first two units began disLocating into and out of Zipsum nests. Pink blades flickered to life sedating the sleeping Zipsum and their unconscious bodies were tossed into padded crates one on top of the other. Even as silent and as well coordinated as this effort was, it wasn't more than half a minute before the conclave began to stir, to awaken, and to realize they were under attack.
Now. Arrow sent the single word command out through the network.
In perfect unison the second two units of Hei-Shi deployed specially prepared gas bombs. They hissed to life all over the grotto as enraged Zipsum were drawing bows and grabbing wicked curved knives. The combination of steam and a neural destabilizer sent the Zipsum warriors into uncontrolled paroxysms as their bodies involuntarily began to shift forms and they lost all control of their extremities. While the blueish smoke wafted around trembling Zipsum bodies could be seen everywhere.
With the gas bombs deployed the rest of the Hei-Shi, including Arrow, leapt into action. It would be no use to try to contain the whole tribe. Some Zipsum had already escaped through underground burrows, or out small holes in the trees, or just by running really goddamn fast. But Arrow was pleasantly surprised by how many they had caught. Occasionally a conscious one would dive at him and he would happily bring a bluish blade into being on his fist and dispatch the maddened animal. His orders were to capture as many as possible, but he'd let his men know that they should defend themselves with lethal force. No playing games and getting injured.
While the rest of the Hei-Shi were fighting and gathering Zipsum bodies to be tossed into crates, Arrow looked around for the person that had been described to him. She would be painted in the colors of the tribe and wearing a chain of shrunken Cheldrun skulls. He found her tiny squirrel body quivering on the ground in a large hollowed out trunk of a Sygola Tree. Without hesitating he stepped on her hind legs with all his weight crushing them both, then he picked her up and brought her eyes level with his own. The pain in her legs made her lucid and as she looked at him her eyes narrowed in anger.
"Are you Living-Scarred-Heart, mother of High-Dive-Bludgeon?" He asked to be certain, according to his information she was the only one in the tribe who would probably understand Cheldrun.
She didn't reply but spit in his face, which he took as an affirmative. In response he squeezed until he felt a rib snap and walked back toward the rest of the Hei-Shi.
He tossed her into one of the crates that was nearly full, closed it and sealed it. Looking around, the work was almost done. Plenty had escaped, and one of his Hei-Shi had taken a poisoned blade in the neck, but otherwise it had gone according to plan.
The voice of Goshi Command came in over his earbud, Did you find them?
Yeah, he sent back, Tell Drives-Like-Oni that we got his whole motherfucking tribe.
Cat and Mouse
It begins as a game. Kufu has never been in a city like Marina, and he needs time to learn the rhythms of the Cheldrun here - how they live, where they find food and water, their patterns, how they defend themselves. To hunt them of course.
Two delectable options immediately offer themselves. The first is enjoyed in the Outer Market District. There is tremendous commotion as hordes of refugees and rioters and heavily armed police clash in the streets below. Kufu finds a perfect place to sleep during the day, tucked between massive air-circulation fans that are now silent and useless. Most of the grand domes of Marina are shattered, and now broken shells arch over the inhabitants, spindly and corroded metal skeletons once housing shimmering glass. At night he descends and takes prey almost at will. Bodies and parts of bodies are found - a soldier with a helmet but no face, his throat torn out and entrails eaten. A vast pool of blood in an alley in which nothing remains but a pair of shoes, a hat and a left hand.
And swirling around him are nightmares echoing in the minds of the Cheldrun, twisting their bodies in restless movement as they try to sleep, making them cry out to awaken themselves.
The second options is best indulged a few days later, when Kufu is holed up in the abandoned construction site of a southern-style high-rise building, plastic tarps snapping in the wind around him, stretched out on the floor, sniper rifle braced against his shoulder, eye peering through the scope.
Heads explode before the report of the shot is heard. Businesspeople in rumpled suits dance a jig as multiple rounds tear through their bodies with rapid succession. The wind carries the thin sound of giggling. And of course, there are more nightmares.
He learns enough. The city is in a state of controlled chaos, a Maneater Ant nest swarming with frenetic activity, but nowhere near as organized. Even Shadowfang would leave such a nest alone. Marina, however, seems far more accommodating. And he is not here for mere sustenance, mere entertainment. He has traveled many hundreds of kilometers to come here, because this is where the leaders of the most powerful tribe of Cheldrun, the Biomade, live and have their chiefs. The chiefs sit on a Council - wise, since there are more than one. Oversight is its name.
Shadowfang will eat one of these chiefs, and when he does, he will be as strong as a chief of the Cheldrun. The Cheldrun's territory will be his territory. The Cheldrun secrets will be his secrets. He will restore his real name, Eris - NO! - Kufu! Kufu! Chieftain of Cheldrun and Karian, the Hunger of Karia, the Dream-stalker...and he will then turn, at last, to sating the hunger once and for all. To devour. To consume. To evolve.
At last he finds one - called Groom - who serves one of the chiefs of the Biomade. He doesn't ask, he simply bites, and rips, and tears, and chews, and when he is done, he remembers what Groom remembered, briefly but for long enough. He learns of members of the Council, particularly the one that Groom served, and he learns of another chieftain - one called Rain. Another Biomade chieftain, but one of a different kind. The leader of many warriors, gathering her strength to crush her foes.
Rain. Rain. Rain tastes of nothing, of sky, but this rain, this sweet Rain...it is his sudden purring that gives him away, his distracted state that allows it to happen.
There is the barest intake of breath, the slightest brush of feet on the carpet of the abandoned apartment where he is sheltering during the day, and they are upon him. They are like shadow-shaped Cheldrun, flickering in the afternoon light like reflections on water, fast - how did I not smell them!? - and rage wells up in Kufu, as well as surprise. He remembers seasons ago, hunting along the edges of a Gogajin village. They are celebrating the culmination of some kind of competition with other villages. A huge one, a champion perhaps, comes outside to relieve himself, reeking of meed and donkey. Kufu took him, his strength, his iron grip, and as he remembers he swells, muscles rippling and twisting beneath his skin.
The Cheldrun hunters are upon him and are almost immediately thrown back. One collapses gasping with a crushed sternum. Another is seized and hurled out the empty window frame to fall silently, ten stories down, landing with a crack like a dropped egg. Their blades flicker pink and slash, stealing strength, then blue, shedding thick blood. At last, as he crushes the wind out of another attacker, one pounces on top of him, slashing with a flicker of blue and then slamming the suddenly pink blade into the base of Kufu's skull. He goes limp at last as she drains him, dancing nimbly aside as he crashes heavily to the floor, already shrinking in stature, forgetting the Gogajin champion, forgetting everything.
They take his limp form, the rifle he was cleaning as he mused, clear the room and disappear with a flicker.
***
Shade delivers the package, which she was brought in to do. She mourns the three dead bounty hunters in her crew and waits with the fourth while he is in the hospital until they say he is in stable condition. With the remaining five, she divides up the sum that the Executor has paid them - the cash is dicey, perhaps just so much toilet paper in a season or less, but the promises, written up as contracts, are far more valuable. Not for the first time, nor the last, she silently thanks the Gengineers who performed the dihybrid cross which led to her...unique ability. She'd read that the extinct Vorax could do something similar. Well, maybe explorers would come across one in some out of the way place, and she'd get a chance to read the studies that would be published when they vivisected it. She'd love to learn how they do their trick.
Goshi will land on its feet, given enough time. Who will oppose them? Refugees with a famous terrorist at their lead? Hardly, however many apocalypses he can pull off, the son of a bitch. A few seasons of starvation and economic stagnation should take the wind out of them. It always does. Until then, there's no end to the work. And after, still more work. Goshi will come right back - maybe this tiger-man will even help them out, once he hears the deal. But either way, Goshi is the future of this planet, and it isn't down for the count, not by a long shot. They'll be back -
And then everything will be right as Rain.
Two delectable options immediately offer themselves. The first is enjoyed in the Outer Market District. There is tremendous commotion as hordes of refugees and rioters and heavily armed police clash in the streets below. Kufu finds a perfect place to sleep during the day, tucked between massive air-circulation fans that are now silent and useless. Most of the grand domes of Marina are shattered, and now broken shells arch over the inhabitants, spindly and corroded metal skeletons once housing shimmering glass. At night he descends and takes prey almost at will. Bodies and parts of bodies are found - a soldier with a helmet but no face, his throat torn out and entrails eaten. A vast pool of blood in an alley in which nothing remains but a pair of shoes, a hat and a left hand.
And swirling around him are nightmares echoing in the minds of the Cheldrun, twisting their bodies in restless movement as they try to sleep, making them cry out to awaken themselves.
The second options is best indulged a few days later, when Kufu is holed up in the abandoned construction site of a southern-style high-rise building, plastic tarps snapping in the wind around him, stretched out on the floor, sniper rifle braced against his shoulder, eye peering through the scope.
Heads explode before the report of the shot is heard. Businesspeople in rumpled suits dance a jig as multiple rounds tear through their bodies with rapid succession. The wind carries the thin sound of giggling. And of course, there are more nightmares.
He learns enough. The city is in a state of controlled chaos, a Maneater Ant nest swarming with frenetic activity, but nowhere near as organized. Even Shadowfang would leave such a nest alone. Marina, however, seems far more accommodating. And he is not here for mere sustenance, mere entertainment. He has traveled many hundreds of kilometers to come here, because this is where the leaders of the most powerful tribe of Cheldrun, the Biomade, live and have their chiefs. The chiefs sit on a Council - wise, since there are more than one. Oversight is its name.
Shadowfang will eat one of these chiefs, and when he does, he will be as strong as a chief of the Cheldrun. The Cheldrun's territory will be his territory. The Cheldrun secrets will be his secrets. He will restore his real name, Eris - NO! - Kufu! Kufu! Chieftain of Cheldrun and Karian, the Hunger of Karia, the Dream-stalker...and he will then turn, at last, to sating the hunger once and for all. To devour. To consume. To evolve.
At last he finds one - called Groom - who serves one of the chiefs of the Biomade. He doesn't ask, he simply bites, and rips, and tears, and chews, and when he is done, he remembers what Groom remembered, briefly but for long enough. He learns of members of the Council, particularly the one that Groom served, and he learns of another chieftain - one called Rain. Another Biomade chieftain, but one of a different kind. The leader of many warriors, gathering her strength to crush her foes.
Rain. Rain. Rain tastes of nothing, of sky, but this rain, this sweet Rain...it is his sudden purring that gives him away, his distracted state that allows it to happen.
There is the barest intake of breath, the slightest brush of feet on the carpet of the abandoned apartment where he is sheltering during the day, and they are upon him. They are like shadow-shaped Cheldrun, flickering in the afternoon light like reflections on water, fast - how did I not smell them!? - and rage wells up in Kufu, as well as surprise. He remembers seasons ago, hunting along the edges of a Gogajin village. They are celebrating the culmination of some kind of competition with other villages. A huge one, a champion perhaps, comes outside to relieve himself, reeking of meed and donkey. Kufu took him, his strength, his iron grip, and as he remembers he swells, muscles rippling and twisting beneath his skin.
The Cheldrun hunters are upon him and are almost immediately thrown back. One collapses gasping with a crushed sternum. Another is seized and hurled out the empty window frame to fall silently, ten stories down, landing with a crack like a dropped egg. Their blades flicker pink and slash, stealing strength, then blue, shedding thick blood. At last, as he crushes the wind out of another attacker, one pounces on top of him, slashing with a flicker of blue and then slamming the suddenly pink blade into the base of Kufu's skull. He goes limp at last as she drains him, dancing nimbly aside as he crashes heavily to the floor, already shrinking in stature, forgetting the Gogajin champion, forgetting everything.
They take his limp form, the rifle he was cleaning as he mused, clear the room and disappear with a flicker.
***
Shade delivers the package, which she was brought in to do. She mourns the three dead bounty hunters in her crew and waits with the fourth while he is in the hospital until they say he is in stable condition. With the remaining five, she divides up the sum that the Executor has paid them - the cash is dicey, perhaps just so much toilet paper in a season or less, but the promises, written up as contracts, are far more valuable. Not for the first time, nor the last, she silently thanks the Gengineers who performed the dihybrid cross which led to her...unique ability. She'd read that the extinct Vorax could do something similar. Well, maybe explorers would come across one in some out of the way place, and she'd get a chance to read the studies that would be published when they vivisected it. She'd love to learn how they do their trick.
Goshi will land on its feet, given enough time. Who will oppose them? Refugees with a famous terrorist at their lead? Hardly, however many apocalypses he can pull off, the son of a bitch. A few seasons of starvation and economic stagnation should take the wind out of them. It always does. Until then, there's no end to the work. And after, still more work. Goshi will come right back - maybe this tiger-man will even help them out, once he hears the deal. But either way, Goshi is the future of this planet, and it isn't down for the count, not by a long shot. They'll be back -
And then everything will be right as Rain.
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