A FEW ODD SOULS – Ch. 18

[image error]

This piece by the great Les Edwards is the closest thing I’ve found to capture my vision of the monstrous Yicori.

Previous Chapters:

Chapter1  Chapter2  Chapter3

Chapter4  Chapter5  Chapter6

Chapter7  Chapter8  Chapter9 

Chapter10  Chapter11  Chapter12  

Chapter13  Chapter14  Chapter15 

Chapter16  Chapter17

Chapter 18.

Kill Or Be Killed

Harmona sent a messenger to pull her daughters from their studies. She waited for them in the dining hall instead of the Great Hall. Anything to make things seem as normal as possible.

A bowl of chopped fruit would be an unexpected midday snack. Her oldest would think it a bribe. Sabine was suspicious of everything since Dorian died. Astrid and Elodie followed their big sister around like puppies.

I’m not with them enough.

The tutors and the matrons are raising them.

How do you fight a war and still find time to raise your children?

Wooden cups held cool water for the girls, but Harmona poured a cup of red wine for herself. She was still trying to think her way out of the siege. The assault she had led beyond the gate was a success. She had inspired the defenders of HearthHome, showed them how to take the fight to the enemy. Now she deeply regretted it.

The councils and captains wouldn’t let her go out to fight again.

“You’re too important,” Duval had said. His fellow captains agreed. “If we lose you in the field, we lose our leader. We can’t afford to lose you. Not now.”

“You need the power of Sala North’s staff,” she said, “and I’m the only one who can use it.”

“We need you alive and safe more than we need you fighting alongside us,” Duval said. “Your green flame is more than a weapon. It’s a symbol. It burns at the heart of everything we’re fighting for. Think of your girls, Harmona. They need you most of all.”

She hated to admit it, but Duval was right. She stayed inside with the matrons and the children while the defenders of HearthHome rushed out of the gate to face the Yicori a second and third time. Each time bodies piled up before the gate, and each time the Yicori dragged them away for feasting. There was no end to the cycle of killing, as there was no end to the Yicori’s numbers. Hundreds of the brutes died, but it didn’t seem to matter. Thousands more kept coming.

Brix had been wounded in the third outing, and Chancey nearly died while dragging him back through the gates. They were both in the infirmary now, along with sixty other wounded warriors. Less than two hundred remained in fighting shape. The StoneFathers’ estimate of forty to sixty percent casualties was yet another lie. If the cycle continued, casualties would reach one hundred percent soon. Then HearthHome would fall. Its children–born and unborn alike–would all die.

After the fourth assault Harmona had made her decision: No more war parties outside the fortress. No more battles outside the gates. She announced it at last night’s council. A sense of relief was the immediate result among her people, but the captains were not happy with her. Duval argued against her during the council, the first time he had ever done so. A few days later small bands of Yicori started climbing the outer wall again. Any day now the horde would climb the walls en masse like a pack of spiders swarming a fallen log.

Harmona could evacuate HearthHome through the Hidden Gate right now. Yet if she ordered such a thing, her people would be refugees between the Affinities, a population without a home. They certainly couldn’t go back to the Urbille. The fight for Gaeya was almost over, and the New Organics were losing. Wandering the Affinities like some lost tribe of prehistory was preferable to death, but not by much.

Duval and the captains urged her to speak with the StoneFathers, but she denied them. The thirty-nine faces had ceased pouring wisdom into the minds of the Artisans and LoreKeepers. They were silent now in the darkness of their deep chamber.

“Wake them,” people said, “Wake them and tell them we need their magic!”

“Don’t you understand?” she said. “The StoneFathers put us in this trap. They set us here for the explicit purpose of fighting these creatures. They are not going to help us stop this. They want us to fight. Or die.”

“Then we fight,” said Duval. “We keep fighting. We send out more war parties.”

“No more war parties,” Harmona said. “But we could get out of here. Pack it up and find another world. Somewhere quiet on the Nexus. We need to use the Hidden Gate to stage an exodus before it’s too late. I’m calling for a vote.”

The council had voted to stay and fight for Gaeya, but it was close.

Duval was giving her the cold shoulder. For three days now he hadn’t spoken with her or the girls. He kept to the company of his fellow captains and the swordsmen that he trained every day. Harmona thought he would be there for the girls during this ordeal, but she shouldn’t have expected it of him. He was a warrior, and these weren’t his children. He might love the girls, but he wouldn’t forget about his dead brothers. He owed them vengeance. He wanted to keep fighting the Yicori directly, but her decree made that impossible. Nobody was ready to defy her direct orders. Not even the anxious captains.

The New Organics’ time in Gaeya was nearly done. Despite the vote, evacuation plans were prepared and distributed. Harmona wondered if the New Organics would fare any better on the Nexus. She would rather have a family of refugees than no family at all.

The next time the council voted, she was sure to sway them in favor of leaving.

The girls arrived in the dining hall. Elodie smiled at her mother, but the other two pretended to be uninterested. Elodie jumped into Harmona’s lap. Her sisters climbed into seats at the table. Harmona kissed each of them on the cheek. They were perfectly beautiful, even when dressed in their drab school tunics. Their hair was long and dark like Harmona’s, and Elodie had her mother’s curls.

“Have some fruit.” She offered them the bowl.

“Why did you take us out of classes?” Sabine asked. She didn’t touch the fruit. Elodie grabbed a slice of stoneapple and shoved it into her mouth.

“I need to talk with you about what’s happening outside the gates,” she said.

“Tutor says there are monsters in the forest,” Elodie said. She talked with her mouth full.

“Not monsters,” Harmona said, “Yicori. They’re…aliens…”

“They want to eat us,” Astrid said.

“Is that true?” Elodie asked.

Harmona nodded. “Yes, the Yicori are dangerous, flesh-eating savages.”

“They killed Daddy,” Sabine said. “They want to kill all of us.”

“That’s what they want,” said Harmona, “but they can’t get inside our walls. We keep them out with oil and flame. As long as we’re in here, we’ll be safe.”

“Will we have to go out and fight them someday?” Astrid asked. “Like Brix and Chancey did?”

“No,” Harmona said. She held Astrid’s head in her hands and kissed her forehead. “I promise you will never have to take up a sword. You are my daughters and I will keep you safe. It’s what I called you here to talk about.”

She explained to them about the alarm and how it would sound when the time came for exodus. Told them where to run, to keep a satchel packed and ready. When the alarm sounded they must go immediately to the orchid garden, where the Hidden Gate would be open and ready. Matrons and children would go through the porte first, followed by Artisans, LoreKeepers, and finally the warriors. The girls understood it all and asked few questions. She was about to dismiss them when the messenger came: Wail had returned to Hearth Home with a group of Beatifics and some kind of alien.

Harmona grabbed her staff, sent the girls back to class, and headed for the orchid garden. She was more than ready to vent her frustrations on Wail, but the sight of Skiptrain and Sala North threw her off balance. Wail looked exactly the same in his tri-corner hat and black cape, waving at her as she approached. She ignored the highwayman and embraced Sala with a tiny squeal of delight.

“It’s so good to see you,” Harmona said. The hug lasted a long time.

“I missed you too,” Sala said. “Every day.” She wore a less ornate face now that Skiptrain wore the troupe leader’s mask. But her voice was the same, as was her graceful way of moving. The woman had practically raised Harmona and Dorian. Sala taught them to read and to think, to act, to travel.

“I heard about Dorian’s death,” Sala said. “I’m so sorry.”

Harmona nodded and pulled away. “Too many have died here lately,” she said. “But don’t worry, you’re safe inside these walls. For now.”

Skiptrain embraced Harmona next. He introduced her to Inspector Crag and his frail-looking wife Caroline, then to a reptoid named Bruno, and finally to Svetlana. The blonde girl was about the same age as Harmona, which meant she could pass for a citizen of HearthHome. Like the lizard-man, Svetlana gave the first impression of a seasoned warrior. But there was a longing in her eyes, a restless craving, that made her seem more like an anxious little girl.

Was this all the reinforcements Wail could manage? Two old friends, two mercenaries, and a pair of lovestruck Beatifics?

“Svetlana has come a very long way to be reunited with her son,” Wail said. Harmona kept her eyes on the outland girl. “I’ve reunited a husband and wife already today. With your help I’ll do the same with a mother and son.” He described the birthmark on the child’s leg, and Harmona remembered seeing it. Wail had brought her the baby not long before the problem with the Yicori started. She saw hope flicker in Svetlana’s eyes, delicate as glass and precious as gold. Now she understood the girl’s desperation.

“I’ll take you to the nursery myself,” Harmona said. “Since our current troubles started, no families have adopted incoming infants. The matrons provide daily care for a dozen new arrivals. I’m sure your Dima is one of them.”

Svetlana wiped at her bloodshot eyes. A warrior never wanted to show tears.

“Wail described this place so well to me,” Sala said, “and it’s just like I pictured it. Quite lovely, Harmona. When can I meet these daughters of yours?”

“As soon as their lessons are done,” Harmona said. “I promise.”

Harmona turned to Wail. “Doctor, I require words with you in private.”

“I’ll accompany you to the nursery,” Wail said.

“No. Please wait in the dining hall with your guests.”

“Bruno will come with me,” Svetlana said. She leaned on the big reptoid’s armored shoulder. “He’s perfectly tame.” Bruno gave her a toothy grin.

“Come,” Harmona said. “Sala, join us. Wail, stay here.”

“As you wish, HearthMother,” Wail said. He bowed with mock solemnity.

Matrons came from the kitchen with hot loaves of bread and platters of roasted fowl. Bruno’s big nostrils sniffed at the aroma as he followed Svetlana out of the room.

In the nursery it wasn’t hard to find Dima. He was the only new arrival with any kind of birthmark. Sala explained Harmona’s plight as Skiptrain had related it to her. This woman had to be a remarkable specimen to track her baby across the Affinities. Even to survive such a journey was a miracle for a flesh-and-blood Organic.

Svetlana took the baby in her arms. The matrons were crying and Harmona couldn’t stop herself from joining them. Only Sala’s and Bruno’s eyes were dry now, since Beatifics couldn’t weep and reptoids didn’t know how. Svetlana held Dima to her bosom like he was a dream suddenly made real. She kissed him and cooed at him, twirling him about in her arms. Dima giggled and grabbed her finger in his tiny fist. Svetlana wept and laughed and even sang a little. After a while they left her alone in the nursery with her son. Bruno slouched outside the door like a clockwork hound awaiting its master.

Harmona filled Sala in on the grim details of the HearthHome siege. The sounds of warriors training and blades clanging came through the vaulted windows as they walked toward the dining hall. The morning exercises had begun, and beneath the citadel the forges were still churning out new blades and suits of armor. Etherium blades had replaced the earlier steel weapons, and they were superior in every way. The etherium should have turned the tide of the war in the New Organics’ favor, but it did not. The numbers of the Yicori were simply too great. And all of this was the fault of the StoneFathers.

“Wail is nothing but their tool,” Harmona said.

“Wail is nobody’s tool,” Sala said. “I thought you of all people would see that. You underestimate him.”

“You’re soft on him because he rebuilt you,” Harmona said, smiling. “But I’m glad he did.”

“I go by Noemi now,” she said. “A new name seemed appropriate for a new life.”

Harmona met Wail among the tables, and he followed her into a private meeting room. She might well lose her temper on him, and she didn’t want to make a scene. She needed Wail to listen. And then to speak. That was going to happen one way or another.

“You knew all along didn’t you?” she said.

The last time she asked him the question, he didn’t answer.

“No,” he said. “I didn’t know about the Yicori. I swear it.”

“How am I supposed to believe you, Wail?”

“I didn’t know until my last visit,” he said. “Yes, I knew about the time-shifting property of the Hidden Gate. I knew that it cut through space and time. I thought Gaeya was a prehistoric paradise. The StoneFathers chose this world, but they didn’t tell me why. Not until it was too late.”

“And now?” she said. “What do you say now?”

“This is our one chance to end the Potentates,” Wail said. “We’ve got to take it.”

“You like to use the word ‘we’ a lot, but you’re not the one dying here,” she said. “It’s my people who fight and die in this place. It’s only been six weeks since the Yicori found us, and already half of us are dead. Many of us are too weak to fight. Pregnant women, young children, wounded men and women. You should have brought an army through that gate.”

“I would if I had one,” Wail said. “I’m here now. Let me help.”

“You want to die fighting Yicori, is that it? Oh, we’ll just put your Beatific body back together with some wire and string. You’re not really human anyway, right?”

Wail said nothing. His bronze face stared at her. She looked away.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s quite all right,” Wail said. “I understand. Have you spoken to the StoneFathers?”

“No,” she said. “I’m not taking their advice anymore. They’re poison.”

“Nonsense,” Wail said. “They’ve kept you alive this long.”

“Not all of us,” she said.

“But now you’re a fighting force,” Wail said. “Your warriors have learned how to kill these brutes. You have etherium blades and armor. Now you are more dangerous than them.”

“They are endless!”

“No,” Wail said, “they can’t be. That’s impossible. There is a finite number of those things. Most of them died off thousands of years ago. All we have to do is get rid of the remnants. This world belongs to the New Organics.”

“You sound just like them,” she said. “They told me at least half of us would die before this war was over. But we’ve already passed fifty percent casualties, and there is no stopping the Yicori. We might have done better sacrificing our flesh and blood to the Potentates. At least they would have given us replacement bodies. When the Yicori kill one of us that person is gone forever. Do you understand? We don’t get rebuilt!”

“I do understand,” Wail said. “But you can’t give up. There’s no place for Organics along the Nexus. There hasn’t been for thousands of years. But if you succeed in wiping out the Yicori, their descendants will never evolve into the Potenates. They will never conquer the Empire of Stone and rule the Nexus. If you win here, you make the Nexus safe for humankind again. You negate the birth of a cosmic predator race that made homo sapiens terra an endangered species. You win not only this world, but all worlds. You’ll bring the humans back, Harmona.”

“And all I have to do is kill every last one of those brutes,” she said.

“Great deeds always fall to reluctant souls,” Wail said. “History calls them heroes.”

“This is a fight for survival,” Harmona said. “It’s kill or be killed. There are no heroes.”

“Let me speak to the StoneFathers.”

“No,” Harmona cut off his next words. “Come with me.”

She led him back into the dining hall. Skiptrain, Noemi/Sala, and Bruno were gathered about Svetlana and her baby. Crag and Caroline sat on a nearby terrace overlooking the central gardens. Harmona wasn’t sure if the presence of Beatifics in the citadel would be a good or bad thing for its population. There might be old grudges stirred up by having them here. She thought of Anton Lecuyer, the would-be rebel, living like rat somewhere in the catacombs below the fortress. None of the attempts to capture him had succeeded. She couldn’t worry about the presence of Beatifics now. There was a small matter of life and death that took priority.

She sat down at the big table and called for wine. She explained HearthHome’s dilemma, leaving out Wail’s conspiracy with the StoneFathers.

“We can’t hold out much longer,” she said. “We have to win this war with the Yicori–to wipe them out–or we have to abandon Gaeya.”

“Not much of a choice when you’ve got all these children to protect,” Bruno said. He stared at Dima in Svetlana’s arms. One of his black talons caressed the babe’s tummy lightly as a feather. Dima wrapped his tiny fingers around it. He made the sounds a happy baby should be making.

Harmona explained the StoneFathers’ gambit. “If we exterminate the Yicori, their descendants will never become the Potentates. And the Potentates will never make us an endangered species.”

Crag had rejoined them while Harmona was speaking. Caroline sat quiet as ever by his side. “These StoneFathers,” Crag said. “Somehow they spoke to Caroline when she was in the labyrinth. What are they?”

“The only true enemies of the Potentates,” Wail said. “Thanks to them we have a chance to change everything. To fix the Nexus.”

“With genocide,” Harmona said.

“Aren’t all empires built on such crimes?” Skiptrain said. “History books are written by the victors.”

“Is it really genocide when you’re fighting an enemy that’s trying to devour you?” Wail said.

“Who cares?” Bruno said. “It’s a matter of survival, the one constant in the universe. Conflict. Struggle. Death. Only the strong survive.”

“The Reptoids of Uxx have a straightforward philosophy of life,” Wail said. “But Bruno does make a point.”

“No, I mean who are they?” Crag asked. “These StoneFathers. This Ministere de Stone.”

“The original architects of the Nexus,” he said. “The Binders of Affinities. Call them spirits if you will, but they are non-temporal entities. They built the Thoroughfares and they lost the Nexus to the Potentates. They liberated me from servitude, and they brought us all here to Gaeya. This is what it comes down to, my friends. This world is the final battleground between the Potentates of Urbille and the Ministere de Stone.”

“It is not going well,” Harmona said.

“There may be a way to turn the tables on these Yicori,” Skiptrain said. “Harmona, you said the new weapons and armor made your people more effective at killing their enemies. But your technology here is primitive compared to what exists in the Affinities.”

“We could never smuggle enough guns out of the Urbille,” said Wail. “Or enough ammunition. Security’s too tight.”

“Not the Urbille,” Skiptrain said. “There is a place with enough advanced weaponry to defy even the Potentates.”

“We’ve been everywhere along the Nexus,” Noemi said. “Seen wonders you wouldn’t believe.” She and Skiptrain shared a strange look, an indication that they also shared the same thought.

“Aphelion,” Svetlana said. Eyes and opticals turned to her. She finally looked up from the baby. “I hear things,” she said.

“Is that place real?” Bruno asked.

“It is,” Skiptrain said. “A magnificent city far enough from the Urbille to withstand its influence, and therefore the most likely to aid our cause. The Rude Mechanicals won the favor of Aphelion’s Triple Monarch decades ago. It will be my honor to serve as Ambassador of Gaeya. Let me ask for help.”

“You’ll never make it across the Nexus in time,” Harmona said. “The trip could take weeks or months.”

“Not if we use Wail’s vacuity technology,” Skiptrain said. “It creates shortcuts between Affinities.”

“It’s actually the Potentates’ technology,” Wail said. “I stole it from a Harvester. I learned a lot about them when I took one apart. They use it to parse the Affinities faster than anyone else. I adapted one of their causal vacuity nodes to create the Hidden Gate, although I couldn’t have perfected it without the StoneFathers.”

“Can you use it like the Harvesters do?” Skiptrain asked. “To travel inside the Nexus?”

“I’ve done it several times. However, there are risks. Using the Harvesters’ technology has begun to draw their attention. We may run across one or two of them on the way. But it’s worth the risk.”

“How likely is this Triple Monarch to aid us?” Harmona said. “We have nothing to offer in return.”

“On the contrary,” Wail said. “We can offer them a Nexus freed of the Potentates.”

Bruno smiled, showing off his big, sharp teeth. “I’m beginning to like you more and more,” he said.

“Count me in,” Crag said.

“Inspector, you don’t have to–”

“You didn’t have to help me get Caroline back,” Crag said. “But you did. I owe you. And after what the bastards did to her–what they did to all of us–how could I skip out on my chance to get some payback?” Crag turned to Harmona. “Can Caroline stay with you while I’m gone? She needs the company of other women. Children. Sunlight, fresh air.”

“You are both welcome as long as you care to stay,” Harmona said.

“I’ll take care of Caroline,” Noemi said. “Harmona’s going to be busy.”

Crag thanked both women with awkward hugs, then went to spend a few more minutes with his wife. It was almost time for the girls to return from classes. They would finally get to meet Aunt Sala and Uncle Skiptrain, the legendary performers they’d heard so much about. The visitors would keep their minds from the siege. They had never seen a reptoid before, so she was sure they’d be mildly terrified then utterly fascinated by Bruno’s presence.

“I’m so proud of what you have become,” Noemi said.

Harmona shook her head. “I only ever wanted to be an actor.”

“That was your first mistake,” Noemi said. They laughed. Harmona couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed like that. Her heart swelled. She couldn’t wait for the clockwork woman to meet her daughters. Sala/Noemi was the only grandmother they would ever have.

“I keep a stable of Urbillian horses on the other side of the gate,” Wail said, “not far from where we left Skiptrain’s steam carriage.”

Svetlana came to him, the baby sleeping on her shoulder.

“I’m going with you,” she said. “Dima has been safe with your HearthMother. He will be safe here a little while longer.”

Wail stiffened. “My dear lady, we cannot ask you to do such a thing. Stay here with your son.”

“I must go with you,” Svetlana said. “To Aphelion.”

“Are you sure about this?” Bruno said. The lizard-man literally poked his snout into the conversation. “I’ll go, Svetlana. You stay here.”

“No,” Svetlana said. “I owe Wail too. There is nothing left for Dima and me where we came from. But if I help to save this place, we might find a home here.”

Harmona raised a hand to touch Svetlana’s cheek. “You already have a home here,” she said. “You don’t have to earn it.”

“Yes,” Svetlana said. “I do. For myself and for Dima.”

She kissed the top of the baby’s head. Harmona understood.

“Then I’ll stay with Dima,” Bruno said. “Until you get back…”

Harmona watched in silent awe as Svetlana kissed the reptoid on his scaly cheek.

“If only you weren’t so ugly,” Svetlana said. “I might fall in love with you.”

Bruno huffed through his flared nostrils.

“If only you had scales,” he said, “and a nice tail…”

Bruno took the sleeping baby in his arms. Harmona watched him, fascinated by his humanlike nature. Her children were going to love having this gentle monster around. Perhaps it would make them feel safer. She had seen plenty of reptoids in her days travelling with the Rude Mechanicals, but she’d never seen anything like Bruno. She wished Wail had brought an army of reptoids just like him.

“Do you really think this will work?” Harmona asked.

“It has to,” Skiptrain said. “Just hold on a few more days.”

“If they come over the walls, I’m sounding the evacuation,” Harmona said.

Wail handed her a tiny black box. “If the worst should happen, open the lid and set the bird inside free. It will lead me to wherever you are in the Nexus.”

Harmona took the box. “What makes you think I’d want you to find me?”

Wail shrugged. “The Nexus is a dangerous place.”

“You’re a bastard, Wail.”

“I’m a doctor.”

 

NEXT: “Harvesters”

Send your feedback to: johnny-nine@comcast.net 

_____________________________

—  A FEW ODD SOULS Copyright 2019 John R. Fultz  —