Five Unicorn Flush

by TJ Berry

  “This has been… a time,” said Jenny, her voice husky with emotion.

  “It’s not over yet,” said Kaila, draping a branch on her shoulder.

  “Yeah, this isn’t the end of Jenny Fucking Perata,” said Ricky.

  “No, but maybe it is,” said Jenny. “And maybe that’s all right.”

  Kaila’s branch lifted off her shoulder and flicked her in the ear. Jenny flinched.

  “No,” the dryad said simply.

  “You smashed the Kilonova, which probably saved every life on this planet,” said Ricky, kicking extra hard so that the dust settled on everyone else as well. “That has to be worth something.”

  “I don’t think Bala justice is eye for an eye,” said Jenny. Her eyes unfocused as she listened to Kamis say something. She shrugged in response.

  “Regardless. I think the circumstances of your actions has to be taken into consideration,” said Ricky.

  “True,” smiled Jenny. “Like people who fleeced down on their luck Bala out of millions of dollars, but it was wartime and so it wasn’t their fault.”

  “At least I don’t have a brain parasite that’s part of an alien invasion,” said Ricky, letting one corner of her mouth rise in a half-smile.

  “I think the Sisters were wrong about that. Kamis is content to just hang around in here,” Jenny tapped on her temple. “He’s not invading anything.”

  “That’s exactly what an invader would say,” said Bào.

  For the next few hours, the group talked like old friends.Their conversation broached both weighty topics like the nature of forgiveness and the responsibilities of power, as well as more amusing tales of their adventures since the Summit. Bào and Ricky in particular had a story about criosphinx bones and sewer systems that left them all in tearful laughter on the ground.

  The sun dipped below a reddened horizon and the thricbugs began to chirp.

  “Time to go,” said Jenny, spinning her chair and resting her hands on her lap, making it clear that she was waiting for someone else to push. Kaila was still pulling her roots out of the ground. Ricky was helping Bào get up with a slow stretch, so Gary went over and took the handles.

  “I don’t know if you remember,” she began as they walked toward the Consensus who would decide her fate. “But back at Fort J after the Summit, you asked me what I planned to do to make amends for all of this.”

  “I do remember,” he said. “Have you decided?”

  “I have,” she said. “I’ve been given this incredible gift. And, up until now, I’ve been pretty reluctant to use it. I didn’t want to hurt more people. But I think I’ve been wrong about that. I think I’m supposed to be using it, practicing, and getting better. I bet I could be really good at it if I tried.”

  “I’m absolutely sure you would be,” said Gary.

  “I think I ended up here, in this place named after your incredible mother, to protect the Bala with this unimaginable amount of power I’ve been given. The Reason is going to find us again. They’re going to send more ships eventually, but we’ll be ready for them,” she said, biting her fingernail. “I’ll be ready for them.”

  “Sounds hard. You should probably just donate fifty dollars to the Bala Benevolent Fund and call yourself an ally,” he said.

  She tisked, reached up behind her, and flicked his ear.

  “I was being serious,” she said. “We were having a moment.”

  “You were having a moment, I was pushing you through these hideous weeds,” said Gary. “Maybe your first act as a benevolent god should be to figure out how to cut the grass.”

  She opened her mouth for another sarcastic comment, but he leaned down close to her ear.

  “We would be lucky to have such a fierce warrior as our guardian,” he whispered. “I can think of no better way of making amends than protecting and serving those who you’ve wronged. I would be honored to stand beside you.”

  “Oh I don’t need your help,” she said, veering away from what was coming dangerously close to a moment of sincerity between them.

  “I always help my friends,” said Gary.

  “Are we friends now?” asked Jenny.

  “I think so, probably,” said Gary.

  “That’s nice,” she replied, setting her chin in her hand with a smile.

  Nearly everyone had already gone back inside of the hall. Gary let go of Jenny’s chair as they crossed the threshold and she was ready to take the wheels. They settled at the table. The Consensus was in place and looked like they had been waiting there for a bit of time.

  “Are we late?” asked Ricky.

  “They seem to have decided faster than the allotted time,” said Gary over his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

  The speaker raised her hand to silence the room.

  “We have come to a consensus,” she said.

  Everyone in the room held their breath.

  “We have decided that appropriate consequence for the actions of Geneva Perata are the following: expulsion and exclusion the daily activities of Bala society. Restrictions on interstellar travel. Service to the Bala community. Reparations to those wronged where possible. These consequences will continue for a period not shorter than three hundred Earth-based years, a symbolic sentence that bears the weight of all the Bala you were involved in harming. We hope that you will dedicate each day of your remaining life to the memory of the Bala who were senselessly lost during that time.”

  The Consensus finished their listing of punishments. Jenny had stopped moving at the word “expulsion.” The Consensus hadn’t spelled out what “expulsion” meant. It could mean the next island or the next star system.

  “Do the aggrieved have objections to the consequences as listed?” asked the speaker.

  A wave of awkward murmuring went through the room. It seemed as if some were dissatisfied but were hesitant to say so.

  “The implementation of these conditions will be up to the discretion of the settlement’s leadership. And they will commence in the morning.” The speaker looked to Gary, as did half the room. At this moment, he was glad to have taken a seat near Jenny.

  “I understand,” he replied.

  “Then barring any other discussion, we conclude these proceedings.” The Consensus stepped down from the platform and were suddenly just part of the mingling crowd. The speaker wound her way over to Jenny’s table.

  “We appreciated the candor with which you approached your actions. That did figure into our discussion,” she said.

  Jenny waved a weak acknowledgement and wheeled through the crowd to the outside. Gary followed.

  “So have you decided where you’re sending me?” she asked, her voice tight.

  “Yes,” said Gary.

  “All right,” she replied, shoving her wheels through the grass. Jenny had changed quite a bit, but not enough to swallow her pride and simply ask where. Perhaps that humility would develop some time over the next three hundred years.

  Gary stepped off Kaapo’s raft, taking care not to sink down into the acidic mud surrounding the marsh.

  “I’ll come back for you in a few hours,” said Kaapo, pushing off. He’d come a few times already so she knew the routine.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  He followed a wide gravel path into the depths of Anjali’s woods. The light in here changed from a soft pink to a rich red as the sun shone through the canopy of leaves. The path turned and went deeper into the trees, where the native residents were frequently seen. Kaila had reported that most of them were benign – even the hatefoxes only wanted head scritches and pets if you could get past the eyeless horror of their heads.

  The path became rougher and less visible. The dwarves had tucked their newest structure far enough into the foliage that it wasn’t visible from the marsh, or even from the main path, meaning that its occupants were unlikely to be disturbed by anyone.

  Gary stepped over roots and vines, hoping he was still on the right path and not just following animal
tracks toward a hungry animal’s den. He knew he was in the right spot as he came upon a clearing surrounded by a fenced-in area. He tried the gate and found it locked. A tree branch swung down and tapped his arm away. He lifted his arms, ready to swing at whatever horrific thing was coming for him.

  “So ready to fight,” whispered the dryad that had been standing there the whole time.

  “Kaila. Sorry.” He let his hands drop.

  “She’s inside.” Kaila reached over and threaded her thinnest branches through the gate mechanism. It opened with the twang of metal against metal.

  “Not magical,” he mused, pushing the gate open.

  “She’s a necromancer. What would be the point?” replied Kaila.

  “She’s also a mechanic. Picking this lock would be two seconds of work for her,” said Gary.

  “The point is not to keep her in but to keep others out,” said Kaila, removing her branches from the lock and standing up straight. With her face at rest, she looked like just another tree. She’d even started to get a pinkish hue to her leaves, helping her blend in better.

  “Kay, who are you talking to?” Jenny called from the cabin. The door swung open and Jenny wheeled through the level threshold into the short grass. “Oh hey,” she said, spotting Gary.

  “May I visit?” asked Gary. A courtesy, since he had the right to visit anyone held in Anjali’s prisons.

  “Of course.” Jenny spun her chair and beaconed him into her cabin. It was significantly more well-appointed than his cell had been on the Jaggery, but not really much larger. It was like the tiniest of grunt apartments on Fort J. She had a small food preparation area and a table for dining, a bed in the corner and a door to what was likely a bathroom. The room was dark – lit only by a few high windows that Jenny could not have reached without the assistance of zero gravity. Then again, it was Jenny. Anything was possible.

  There were telltale signs that Jenny was comfortable here already. Her bed was unmade and dirty clothes were strewn around the corners of the room where they wouldn’t get tangled in her wheels. The morning’s dirty dishes still sat on the table. There was some other project strewn about the place. Wires and circuit boards.

  “What are you making?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Just tinkering, I guess,” said Jenny, picking up a processor that had been salvaged from the Kilonova’s debris field. The Bala were getting all sorts of technology from the junk in orbit. “Not sure what it’s going to be yet. I don’t have a soldering iron, but…” She touched her finger between a wire and a circuit board. A tiny purple spark jumped out and fused the metal between the two. A useful skill.

  “Nice to see you’ve made yourself right at home,” said Gary.

  “It’s my jail cell, I’ll do what I want,” she said, clearing the dishes and putting them into the sink. The dwarves had built everything flat and within her reach. In some ways, this room was probably better than most of the captain’s quarters she’d lived in.

  “Prison treating you well?” he asked.

  “I prefer to think of it as an early retirement,” she said.

  “Looks comfortable,” he said.

  “Probably because no one is digging horn out of my head every morning,” she replied, then caught herself. “Sorry. Not a joke.”

  Gary pursed his lips and sat down at the table. Jenny’s tablet sat unlocked in her spot. On the screen was a personnel file of one of the Kilonova’s deceased crew.

  “A bit of light reading?” he asked.

  She reached over and flicked off the screen.

  “Just looking at some stuff,” she said.

  Jenny pulled up to one of the counters and took two glazed clay cups down from a low shelf. She poured water into each from a pitcher, then held her hand over them for half a minute. She tucked one mug into a recessed holder in her armrest and handed the second one to him. He took a tentative sip from the steaming cup. The liquid had become a rich, fragrant chai, spicy the way his mother used to make it. The smell of it brought him right back to the Jaggery, sitting and watching her stir a pot full of milky tea. She’d even gotten the extra cardamom right.

  “Impressive. You’re getting quite skilled,” he said. “Transforming matter is no small thing.”

  She leaned her elbows on the table like an eager student.

  “Bào says the trick is not to go big, but instead to be precise. It takes a lot more energy but it keeps me from blowing up every bloody thing in a ten meter radius.”

  “Bào always was a good teacher,” said Gary.

  “Funny, he said that about you,” she replied. “Kamis says hello.”

  “Hi, Kamis,” said Gary. “We should start thinking about how to get you out of there.”

  “Kamis says that he’s perfectly content where he is,” said Jenny. “After all of his adventures, domestic life suits him. He says he’s right where he needs to be.”

  Gary sipped again and sat back in his chair. He was afraid of that. If Kamis really was some kind of invader, he would need to be removed from Jenny. At least here, far from anyone, they were relatively safe from him. They sat without speaking for several minutes as Gary weighed the options, none of them appealing. Aside from the chittering of the thricbugs outside, the cabin was quiet.

  “I miss it too,” said Jenny, sipping at her own drink, which smelled like lemons and crackled with carbonation.

  “Miss what?” he asked.

  “The hum of the engines. When are you going back up?” she asked.

  “No plans currently,” he said.“Too much to do on the surface.” “You should go – even if it’s just for a few hours. You were born up there. You’ve gotta miss it.”

  She was right. He wanted nothing more than to be in the Jaggery’s cockpit, dipping into nullspace and watching as the stars fell away and the Eye of Unamip came into view.

  “If you do go, would you take my tablet and make a recording of the three moons up there? I want to see them on a flyby but I’ll never get up there again.”

  “You never know,” replied Gary.

  “Oh I know. Three hundred years here. Even if I do make it that long because of some necromancer bullshit, no one here is going to let me on board a ship again,” she said.

  “You forget, that Unamip willing, I will be alive orders of magnitude longer than you. If you survive your sentence, I would be glad to have you as my co-pilot,” said Gary.

  Jenny didn’t answer, but a little smile played at the corners of her mouth. She was born to be in the stars just like him. It had to be torture to be planetbound for the foreseeable future. Which was entirely the point of this consequence.

  “Kaila seems to be setting into her new role as jail-keeper,” said Gary.

  “A little too well,” said Jenny. “Yesterday, she kicked me out of bed at 5:00am, citing ‘regulations.’ I swear if that woman gets it into her head that she’s bossing me around for the next three hundred years, I’m going to have the dwarves turn her into a nightstand.”

  “You would never,” said Gary.

  “Of course I would never,” said Jenny. “She and I are together for the long haul.”

  “Speaking of three centuries, what are your plans for that time?” asked Gary.

  “I don’t know. Sit around. Quote bits of my favorite movies to my wife who will stare at me blankly because she doesn’t get the reference. Not murder people. Maybe take up knitting.”

  “Knitting is a truly useful skill,” said Gary, poking one finger through a hole in his old sweater. “We don’t have enough knitters on Anjali.”

  “And we certainly have enough killers,” said Jenny.

  “But we do have a fair number of people who are attempting to make things right,” said Gary. “Most of the humans are getting along well. And the Bala are generally not taking out their frustrations on the survivors.”

  “I wouldn’t blame them if they did.”

  “By destroying that ship you likely saved tens of thousands of Bala lives, now
and into the future. Not to mention the human lives that would have been lost during the inevitable uprising after the Bala had been forcibly returned to Jaisalmer,” said Gary.

  “Probably won’t affect a thing. Humans will find you eventually,” she said.

  “Not for a very long time – as long as Jim’s piece was the only hidden horn. Hopefully, unicorns will become legends and dwarves reduced to a children’s story. When truth fades only myth remains. Maybe the next time they find us, a few dozen generations in the future, humans will be less likely to see us as enemies and more likely to treat us as allies.”

  “I don’t know that I agree with you there, fella,” she replied, settling back into her chair. “Those souls are on my conscience – and they don’t sit there easily.”

  “Sometimes the kindest course of action is still terrible. Like putting down a sick animal.”

  “Humanity is definitely a sick animal,” she said.

  “Don’t worry, I doubt you’ll live more than twenty more years the way you destroy everything around you, Jenny fucking Perata,” said Gary.

  She smiled and made a little laugh through her nose.

  “True. I still get to see Kaila every day, which is more than I saw her over the last two years, and the food here is pretty good, even if I do have to make it myself, and there’s nothing to read or watch, but the hatefoxes hunting at night are pretty entertaining.”

  “Really? They’ve terrified every Bala who’s set foot in the forest,” he said.

  “Gary, I’ve lived in Australia. There’s nothing in this forest that can scare me,” she said.

  “I thought you were from Aotearoa,” he said.

  “That’s where I was born and lived while I was growing up, but I was stationed in Broome City for a while before the Reason shipped me off to the stars.”

  “I didn’t realize. You’ve seen so much. You should write it down,” she said.