Authors: Kim Falconer
‘Everett,’ Lucy J said, calling out as the doors swung shut behind him. ‘I’ve been waiting for you. Come take a look at this.’
He weaved in and out of the vats, threading his way across the floor. At one point he glimpsed a familiar set of numbers and looked away before he could see the activation date. He didn’t want to know how recently she’d been used. He rubbed his ring finger and carried on.
‘You’re working late, Lucy J.’
‘With good reason.’
She stood over the cadaver, her dark curly hair escaping the blue cap. She pulled the sheet back and turned to him. ‘I couldn’t find a mention of
this
in your report,’ she said, pointing a slender brown finger at the body art. ‘How’d you miss it?’
He didn’t answer immediately.
‘Obviously you couldn’t have missed it,’ she said when he didn’t respond. ‘So, why’d you omit it in the work-up?’
Everett stared at Jane Doe’s chest. The tattoo was
vivid, considering there was no vascular supply. Perhaps the dead woman’s skin, pale now in the absence of blood, provided a better contrast than the tawny hue it had in life. He stared at the contours. No. Not better, he decided. When she was alive, the image rose and fell with each breath, a part of her life force. Now the artwork was immobile, as unresponsive as she, frozen like some painting left to collect dust.
‘I’ve had more pressing notes to make,’ he said, avoiding the pathologist’s eyes. ‘It was a baffling case.’ He shrugged. Surely that was an acceptable response, under the circumstances. She knew what kind of pressure he was under just to keep Jane Doe on his ward. Admin wanted her shunted straight to donor status. They had strict rules: no ID, no bed.
‘It’s still baffling,’ she said. ‘I’ve run bioassays over and over—all negative. Can I show you?’
He groaned internally and nodded. No choice.
She led him back to her lab bench, indicating the chair opposite hers. She switched off her com speaker and wheeled her chair closer until her knees touched his. He swallowed, forcing himself not to back away.
He scanned her results, shaking his head. ‘What do you make of it?’
Lucy J lowered her voice. ‘If I didn’t know better, Everett, I’d say your patient willed her heart to stop beating.’
His spine prickled. ‘You’re not putting that in your report, are you?’
She laughed, but it sounded forced. ‘You think I want to be shipped off to Psych?’
‘What, then?’
She pulled out a paper notebook and scribbled on it before tearing off the top sheet and handing it to him. He wondered at her stealth. They were the only ones in the room.
‘Follow those chains,’ she said, tapping the image she’d just drawn.
There were no chains to follow. She’d drawn him a map that led to the basement incineration unit. It was a massive furnace used for disposing of excess donor materials, limbs, old organs and pathological samples. His eyebrows shot up. ‘Shall I run your next load for you?’ he asked, keeping his voice level.
‘If you wouldn’t mind. I’ve so much to do and the transporters aren’t here until morning. Quite a pile-up.’
She must have thought they were being watched, so he played along, making certain he didn’t cause the slightest alarm. He was curious to know how Lucy J planned to pull this off. As if reading his mind, she smiled.
‘The toxins in her blood are highly contagious. As you suspected, she’s from the Borderlands. We have enough samples now.’ She nodded towards his pockets. ‘So the sooner the body is disposed of, the better.’
How had she known? He had no idea why she had anticipated his actions, his plan to switch samples, or the need to do so. He passed her the labelled vials and slide case, keeping his expression blank. ‘Shall I take care of it now?’
‘Thank you. I’ll have a report to you first thing tomorrow.’ She returned to the corpse, replaced the sheet and zipped closed the body bag. ‘I’ll send the data to your reception file?’
‘Perfect,’ he said as he wheeled the gurney out the door. ‘I’ll be there.’
It was a lie. He wasn’t sure where he’d be in the morning, but he was certain he would not be here, not tomorrow, nor ever again. His hands shook. He tightened his grip on the edge of the gurney, colour draining from his fingertips, and took Jane Doe for her final ride.
K
reshkali leaned against the brick wall, watching the sky turn red. Streaks of gold dazzled the clouds until the vanishing sun left everything a wash of pale green. Indigo shadows followed and the vault above her darkened. Sunsets from the estate’s rooftop observatory were spectacular at this time of year—clear, epic displays, as if the gods were blessing the world. She took a deep breath. Any view of the sky was a wonder on Earth, in contrast to the brown sludge that had previously passed for the heavens, though tonight’s sunset was glorious by any mark. She stretched her arms wide over her head. ‘Isn’t it magnificent?’
An’ Lawrence looked up from his work, blowing dust from the blade resting on his knees. He’d been slumped in the corner, reconditioning swords from the armoury, tinkering with various materials he’d found, filing tangs and oiling fittings. He rebound the hilt of
one particularly promising weapon, wrapping it tight, testing the grip. ‘You say that every night, Kali.’
‘And so would you, if you’d been reared in my world. Here they come!’ She exhaled softly. The first evening stars appeared, escorting the sun below the horizon. She waited until only the lip of the corona was visible and adjusted the angle on the sextant. ‘This is magic,’ she said, aligning the sight.
She had plotted over fifty-seven navigational stars, five planets, the sun and moon and dozens of asteroids, using horizon astronomy to rewrite coordinates for the planetary positions. It hadn’t been done accurately since the tectonic plate-shift—no one could see objects in the night sky, even if they’d had the skills to identify and chart them—and ASSIST certainly hadn’t supported the investigations. They’d exterminated astronomers and astrologers alike, not stopping to discern a difference.
She checked her notes. ‘That’s Regulus about to set. Spica will follow in four hours.’
‘I’m sure you’ll tell me when it does,’ he said, not looking up from his task.
Kreshkali made a few more notations. A light breeze fluttered the pages and she rested her fingertips on them while searching for a paperweight. An’ Lawrence remained hunched over his work. She dropped a smooth stone on the charts and faced him. ‘What’s the problem, Rowan?’
He didn’t answer until he had finished binding another blade, testing the balance with his index finger. Perfect. ‘I don’t like it here,’ he said without looking up.
She clicked her tongue. ‘Demons with you, then, Sword Master. Go back the way you came.’ She turned to walk away.
‘Kali, wait! You didn’t let me finish.’ He kissed the hilt of the sword before sheathing it.
‘You have more to say?’
‘I do.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I don’t like it here without my students. You brought me to teach, and I’m restless to get on with it.’
‘You are?’
‘I am, and I’m thinking this would be the perfect place to establish a new temple school. There are enough stragglers at Half Moon Bay to keep Zero busy, and since meeting that young woman Merriam he’s showing no desire to return to Treeon any time soon. I can work with the apprentices that are coming over from there, as well as the Bay. The gods know they’ll need training and there are enough of them.’
She tilted her head. ‘So you do want to stay.’
‘If this is to be a temple ground, I do.’
‘But not Half Moon Bay?’
‘I don’t know what your attraction is to that place. It’s a rubbish heap.’
‘It’s my home, my birthplace.’
‘Yours and the sewer rats, and whatever those grotesque knobbly things are that grow to be the size of small cats.’
‘Cane toads?’
‘Come on, Kali. This place is vast, productive, and more important, it’s been protected. You can’t tell me you don’t want to make a temple of it. It’ll breathe new life into Earth.’
‘I have no argument, save for the Lupins.’
He grizzled.
‘Rowan, you know that’s why I’ve considered asking Zero to master here. He’s not opposed to the Lupins. He welcomes them in his ranks, open to their ways.’
‘I’m open.’
‘Since when?’
‘Since I decided I was.’
She laughed. ‘Rowan, the Lupins belong here. They were bred here, after all, and…’
‘Save your speech, Kali. I know it by heart, and yes, the Lupins have a right to be here. Of course. You’ll get no argument from me.’
‘Really? I thought that was all I got.’ She stared at him for a moment and went back to her notes, then scanned the night sky for Jupiter. It was in the sign of Virgo now, halfway between Regulus and Spica, a little north. She spotted the bright planet and checked it with the sextant. Wonderful. Just where he should be. Her calculations were accurate. ‘You’re like a child, Rowan,’ she said.
He didn’t respond for some time. Finally he came out with, ‘Don’t you want me to stay now?’
Was he trying to antagonise her? ‘It’s not about what I want, Rowan. It’s about what needs to happen for people to survive on this planet. It’s not about us. Not a personal thing. Never has been.’
‘I see.’
She lowered the sextant. ‘I didn’t mean it that way,’ she said.
‘How then, if not personal?’
She smoothed her dress. ‘It’s not completely impersonal.’
‘That must be refreshing for you,’ he whispered, though she heard him loud and clear. He was looking towards the stables rooftop. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, a stack of swords polished and oiled by his side.
‘Rowan,’ she said, unsure how to finish.
He got up, brushing dust from his leggings. ‘I’m going to check the horses,’ he said, shaking his head to forestall anything she might say. He scooped up the swords and carried them to the stairwell.
‘Rowan, wait.’
She stopped him with her voice, closing the distance between them. He kept his back to her, though he waited. She stepped near, rising up on tiptoe to speak softly in his ear. ‘Stay.’
He turned, brushing his lips across her cheek. ‘Are you certain?’
‘I think it’s a great idea.’
‘And my students?’
‘Bring your core group from the Bay, and any apprentices from Treeon that want the experience. They’d be invaluable with the horsemanship.’
‘They’d want to be.’
‘Rowan, most on Earth had never seen a picture of an equestrian team, let alone a live horse, until we brought these over. You can’t expect them to have any horse sense yet.’
‘We’d need to introduce school horses to start with—smaller and thinner-skinned to cope with the heat.’
‘I’ve struck a deal with some Gaelean breeders from Corsanon. It’s nearly the same climate in their deserts and those animals are superb.’
‘Desertwinds? They’re a little light for my taste but brilliant on endurance. Elegant too.’ He shifted his grip on the swords. ‘Good choice, as long as we begin with placid ones.’
‘It’s done. I’ll have more horses for you as soon as the paddocks are ready and the water system’s set up.’
His eyebrows creased. ‘How’d you manage those negotiations? Corsanons don’t part easily with their steeds.’
‘You know me, Rowan.’ She laughed. ‘I dance life’s dance. I get what I want.’
He nodded. ‘I’ve noticed.’
She pressed her body closer. He didn’t resist. ‘I want you to stay,’ she said.
‘Because?’
‘You’re the master who can unite everyone, the most skilled swordsman and equestrian. Your teaching abilities are genius and…’
‘Anything else?’
She gave his neck a kiss. ‘If you’re willing to work with the Lupins, it’ll…’
He cut her off. ‘I said I was. Not that they needed much tuition last time I checked.’
He turned his back and left.
‘Rowan?’
Her only answer was the sound of his boots clipping down the stairs. She returned to her work. He wasn’t embracing the Lupins with much enthusiasm yet, but it was progress, and that was exactly what she wanted—progress in the right direction.
La Makee stood outside the portal, checking her pack. The sun was setting, turning the redwoods to gold. A ground fog rolled in. It hovered knee-deep around her boots like a carpet of cloud. Jays and magpies scattered as her familiar, a Lemur raven, landed in the sacred oak beside her. He cawed, shuffling and reshuffling his dark wings before letting them settle against his back. His head cocked sideways, waiting.
‘Nearly ready, Woca. Are you?’
He answered with a burst of short raspy caws. Her golden warhorse breathed softly at her side, warm puffs of air coming from his nostrils. The animal sighed and rubbed his head on her shoulder, nearly knocking her over. Golden hairs clung to her black cloak.
‘Hold still, Amarillo. I’m thinking.’ As she checked the saddlebags, the raven cawed again.
Think fast, Mistress. Your apprentice comes.
‘Demons.’ She raised her hand and around them fell an invisible blanket, a glamour that hid the witch, her
horse and the raven. It rippled for a moment like a fine net made of dew, before vanishing and taking all traces of their presence with it.
Quiet, my lovelies. Until the girl passes.
Her apprentice sang, a sweet lilting voice that rose to the canopy, sound waves seeking the sky above the treetops. She walked right by Makee and her companions, wandering deeper into the forest, gathering herbs and mushrooms, unaware and unconcerned.
And she calls herself a witch?
The point of the glamour, Mistress, was to make us undetectable.
She didn’t so much as twitch!
A testimony to your expertise in glamour weaving?
Perhaps.
Makee didn’t know whether she felt relief or annoyance. The girl should have been more aware. But then, she hadn’t actually met her yet—it was before her time. She wasn’t completely to blame for her lack of attentiveness. Makee laughed to herself.