And while he waited, he remembered he’d told Ryke his name was JI.
There was an easy way around that.
There was no formal gate as such, but barricades had been erected – made of old furniture, timber, metal debris, and blocky, rusted devices from the past that no longer functioned. All the adjacent streets were blocked off to a degree. The mekkers looked wary of this force of scavs and grounders.
“They won’t attack you,” he told the nearest mekker, smiling to add some friendliness. This one was tall, with a newly grown beard.
The man nodded but didn’t lower his vigilance level, kept scanning the caravan behind JI.
Few had seemed to have beards on the landships, from what memories he carried of that time. Slowly, he was losing some of his oldest memories. Room inside this Osta head was scarce, but it wasn’t killing him like it had been in the baby mech. He would weather it.
He drummed his fingers on his belt.
Eventually Ryke emerged, squeezing past the barrier. He beckoned to JI.
The scars running up into his cropped blond hair marked him as unusual in an instant.
He should’ve had some on feet and hands from when he was staked out, from when JI had pulled out those stakes and left ugly wounds. Ryke was the toughest man he’d ever encountered. It had impressed him, had made him help him get loose.
And now he saw how right he’d been. Ryke had helped create something good. The first mekker city on Aerthe – a place that would, he hoped, accept those who’d followed him from Owler.
Ryke’s Aerthe blessing had let him heal without scarring. He was a fighter for lost causes. A messiah of sorts. A man who had, in the end, been willing to sacrifice himself.
A man to follow, yet he’d given the ruling of this city over to his brother, Badh.
“Ryke. I come to you under my real name this time. I had my reasons, but I am not JI, I’m really –”
“Osta. I know. I was informed as to your real name long ago. What matters to me is what you did for me, and for those I blessed. Your actions. Be careful though. Some may hold grudges.”
He nodded. “Thank you. Your brother is well?”
“He is, and still the boss here. Most still call him the Overmekker. We need a new name for that.” Ryke chuckled.
“I’ll return soon!” he shouted to Fern, as well as to anyone else in hearing distance. He raised his arm. The girl had slipped out the door of the truck and she waved.
The jaggs, being jaggs, hastened to catch up to him.
“I’m sorry. Are they okay to enter your city?”
“Sure. Good to see you again, Osta.” Ryke reached out to shake hands.
It was a gesture JI still hadn’t assimilated properly, but he shook then followed, matching strides with this mekker who came from the underclass of the landships – the underdeckers.
From behind, a few thuds and whinnies cross raspberry sounds, informed JI that the jaggs had leaped the barrier.
“They are dedicated.” Ryke looked amused.
“Yes. Too much so. I had to ride in the back with them all the way. We come from Owler. A city not far from here.” Then he stated the obvious, hoping Ryke was still the sensible man he used to be. “I invited them to join yours, as equals. Ummm.” He wound down, unsure of the right terms to use.
“Really?” Ryke looked both dubious and excited, his brow corrugating. “Those are scavs and grounders? From the looks of them, my men said.”
“Yes. Both. I…persuaded them this was a good idea.”
“I see. We are currently welcoming and blessing a new intake of mekkers. I think it best if we do it this way: You come to my house tonight and we can discuss it. I will tentatively undertake to let them in tomorrow, one by one, so we can interview each and gauge their sincerity and so on. Good?” He put his hand out again.
JI stared then shook it. “Yes, this sounds good. I will inform them. Only, I have a human woman I wish to also bring tonight. Her name is Fern.”
“I remember a human with that name… That’s fine. When you return ask the guards where to find me. I have the same place as before you left.”
“I remember the way.”
Walking back to the convoy and Fern, he thought of what he’d seen in Ryke’s dwelling, on the top floor. The day he’d left, he’d been on that escarpment with a telescopic sight, watching him use one of his fuckspears on Gio.
Most organics might call that intrusive, to watch someone having sex. He called it educational.
Fern was getting her spiked collar on her before they left. All the reasons why he wanted that on her jostled for space.
Showing Ryke and other males she was his, was up there, at the top. Humans were sought after due to their well-known sexual attributes. Cock-exploding ones was the slang term he’d heard most. Now the portals were gone, they were rarer than ever. He might need to keep her on a leash. A close one.
He swallowed in a suddenly dry throat, seeing that in his mind’s eye.
There was also a niggling hope that something a little more sexual might spawn from this dinner invite. Should he ask Fern if she was keen?
As he neared the truck, he rolled that thought around. Sucked through his teeth then found his mouth edging into a smile. The thrill in his balls said a thousand times no.
To the writhing depths of Aerthe, that was a no.
Chapter 24
The room Ryke led JI and Fern up to was at the end of a flight of solid stairs. The door at the top was of painted metal. All of this, an improvement on what was in the past, going by the images his brain summoned. Sometimes it felt as if his memory had shifted things around while he wasn’t looking. But this room, definitely new.
There were real windows, though of all shapes and sizes, and furniture, even some rugs. No sign of food but there was a scent of cooked meat. The rack with long weapons on it beside the door said they were not complacent. On Aerthe, there were always enemies.
He ushered Fern ahead, past the welcoming Ryke and the woman, Gio, in her flowing white and embroidered-blue gown. The room and the people were welcoming, and judging by how Fern smiled and turned in place to look – a small smile that perhaps only he noticed – she was as affected.
The spikes on her jagg collar stood out, shiny if blunt. He had a leash in his coat too and was itching to use it, but dinner manners weren’t something he knew much of.
A fuzzy longing stole from her to him, mechling brought.
She would be thinking about her home. It was inevitable. From what she’d told him there were no landships on her world, just houses, or what she called apartments. Any mobile homes were small and personal.
“You’ve added many things since last I saw this, Ryke.”
“You saw this before? I don’t recall inviting you up.”
“No.” JI shrugged. “You didn’t. I saw it the day I left, from afar. Telescopic lens. I was looking back, thinking about this, your first settlement. Wondering why I was leaving.”
Ryke stayed silent, though one brow rose.
“Would you like to wash before we eat?” Gio asked. “We have some running water.”
“Courtesy of Gio figuring out the plumbing and many others helping to build it. Only in some buildings, so far. The water is limited, but we also have public baths with sea water.” Ryke strolled alongside of JI. “There’s a dress for you in there, if you want it, Fern.” He grinned at her gasp of delight.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes. Gio wasn’t sure but when I said your name and that you were human –”
“It’s true. I have some I bought from grounder traders. They’re wraparound, so should fit you.” Gio wore a tentative smile. “I’m from the royal landship too, Fern. Please? It’s okay. I just thought you’d like something…nice.”
“Oh. Then you know…”
Her history, JI guessed. That she should be dead. That she was stabbed and thrown out. He could feel the upsurge of fear that remembering the past brought to
Fern.
When her expression swung from amazement to worry and she looked to him, JI took her elbow, guided her toward the room Gio indicated. “I’ll come with you.”
Inside the bathing room was a red dress and other garments, draped over a rickety chair, as well as a shower with a metal perforated base. He’d bet they recycled water, used it for crops or whatever. Nothing here would be wasted.
“Leave the collar on while you wash.”
He sat in the chair and watched as Fern shed her travel-grimed clothes – long pants, shirt, and underclothes. She let the meagre water flow over her, and the soap bubbles gather on her body, breasts, back, only to be washed away. Her nipples perked up, especially when she noticed his intent observation.
“It’s good to see what’s mine getting clean.”
She put a finger to her lips to shush him.
“Be careful or I will make you put that inside yourself then suck it off.”
A blush crept over her cheeks.
His little pet-girl was getting aroused. Doing anything about it would have to wait.
Even so, he stood when she’d toweled herself dry, gathered her hair in his fist, and told her to leave the new underclothes on the chair. Then he kissed her, with a hand firmly wrapped over one of her lush ass cheeks. The response in her soft mouth, how she turned to follow his kiss and moaned softly, made him vacillate in his determination not to fuck her in here.
It was probably bad humanoid etiquette.
He helped her, slipping the bright red dress over her head, and tying it at the waist.
“You’re beautiful and need fucking. The latter I will take care of later. Go out and talk.”
He smacked her ass before she managed to leave, and she hissed heyy but grinned before she exited. After quelling his own arousal, he looked at the clothes that’d been beneath the dress.
Ryke had left him male attire. The brown shirt and navy pants fitted well enough, he discovered after showering.
From the noises, the clinking, and the new voices, the scraping of chairs on timber floor, he thought food had been brought. He was right.
They were seated about the round table already, Fern clean and cute in her red dress. So odd to see her in that. He decided he loved dresses. Especially since she had no underclothes.
All those shiny implements next to the plates though. Spoon and knife were his normal. He’d never seen a…was that a fork…used before.
“Sit. Eat. You look uncomfortable. Don’t be. I’m not into company much myself. So long as you don’t scratch your ass with the fork, I’m happy.” Ryke pointed to a chair to his right. “Let me tell you my news, and I’m sure you have some too. First of all,” he slapped the table, “… our mekker king is dead. Natural causes. We choose another soon. Or rather those who are still live on the landships do, those who are not underdeckers.”
“You don’t get a vote? No matter what?” Fern ventured.
“No.” He pushed a plate of meat toward JI. “Two reasons. Underdeckers never have and, so far, leaving the landship has also disenfranchised us. I plan to change that.”
The others had served themselves and JI tucked in, lifting off slices of meat. There was food in plenty here. Steaming meats. Fresh vegetables, and a tall glass of something clear that he was sure was not water.
“Do you know who will be king next?” he asked, watching bubbles rise in the slightly yellow liquid.
“Unofficially, yes.” Ryke leaned in his chair, making it creak from his weight. “Mako. He will win, I am told by those who know such things. The judge had skewed the votes toward himself, but he is gone. The vote, and here is the new part, the exciting part, it will take place at the Chasm.”
“The Chasm?” JI frowned. “I’ve heard of it. A scav and grounder place they hold to be of some importance. Where Aerthe is closest to the surface?”
“Exactly.” Ryke pointed his fork at JI then speared a morsel and ate. “We have all agreed to meet there. By all, I mean mekkers from New Hope and the landships, the main scav warbands, and the grounders who can make it there in time.”
JI stopped breathing. This would be momentous. Never had this happened. Never.
He studied everyone at the table, beginning with Fern. “This will make history, if it comes true, Ryke.”
“Yes. Indeed. A toast to the success. A toast to, perhaps, peace on Aerthe.”
The glass obviously held whatever it was he should drink. He raised it and drank with the others, felt fire race to his gut and do mild devastation on the way. He coughed a few times, swallowed the remnants.
“Good stuff. We brew our own here. I call it rotgut wine.” That was said straight-faced, but JI decided he joked. “It will improve with the years, I hope.”
JI swallowed some more, figuring it might wash away the last effect. It did not.
“Is this safe?” He eyed the gold liquid, swirled it.
“Probably.” Gio laughed then Fern joined in, then Ryke.
It struck JI, how amazing it was to be seen as an organic, their equal, to laugh with them.
“Is there other news as good as this?”
“No. Worse? This will come to you anyway, but I judge you a man who can see other sides. After all, you saved me when you could’ve let me die. You once led an attack on us…but you seem to have changed your opinion of us? This is what some scavs have been doing – researching DRAC missiles and how they kill us. How they kill mekkers.” Ryke grimaced.
JI gulped down a mouthful of food he’d forked in. Should he say?
Yes.
“I know how they kill you. I’m guessing that ever since the Aerthe blessed you, you don’t need the Factor H supplement, that you get from blood?”
“No.” Ryke slowly shook his head. “We don’t. We’re healthy. And no Aerthe storms or blizzards or plagues chasing us.”
“I thought so.” He said the next slowly, wondering if it might betray what he was. “I saw what the DRAC missile did on the royal landship. That’s how it killed. It made the Factor H deficiency accelerate. It won’t affect any of your blessed people, except for the lesser blast effect.”
“I see. That’s a huge relief.” Ryke pushed away his plate. “But not to those still on our landships.”
“You have to bless them. Have to get them off the landships. Shut them down. If the secret is out and the scavs…my people, manage this, you’re going to be perfect targets. None of your battle mechs work anymore. You’ll be close to defenseless.”
Sobering thought. As a JI mech his task had been to protect his masters – the mekkers.
“Most mekkers see our landships as huge weapons, invincible. It will take a major incident to change that. Or a great speaker.”
“We need to get this to Mako then.” Gio leaned forward. “Not that I’m terribly happy with most mekkers but…” She shrugged. “Things have changed my mind.”
“You mean me?” Ryke grinned. “You have other friends among us too now, girl.”
“Yes. In any case, war is bad.” She grimaced.
Fern had remained quiet. Mekkers were even harder for her to forgive.
“We are all people.”
They agreed with him, nodding and murmuring a yes – human, mekker, and himself, a scav cross war machine.
JI found himself staring at his hands, humanoid hands. He pushed away his plate too, took a big swallow of wine. Relaxation of an invigorating sort spread through his body with every swig. He knew of alcohol, just had never tried it. “I am getting used to the taste.” He raised the glass then said quietly and with conviction, “To the future of this world.”
“To the future,” they chorused, even his Fern.
It was a measure of hope. The world had recently gained a different perspective, which was partly Fern’s doing.
“You know you are not the first.”
He looked to Ryke, heart jolting as he imagined Ryke had figured out what he was.
“The first to join us who are not mekkers. It�
�s why I think you will fit in. The men who came with you are already talking bargains with my guards I was told, on the sly. The waik crystals are apparently something special? I know nothing of this, but I’ll learn. We all will. What happened to the mech that was with you? Aunt M it called itself?”
“He went off to find the judge,” Fern said. Her hand toyed with the stem of her glass.
“Is it capable of handling whatever Judge Ormrad might have with him?” Ryke asked. “A small army. I’ve been told numbers. We’ve probably had more people go join him. He has over a hundred mekkers from the landship who’ve joined him, blessed ones who can survive on the land. So far the ramms sent haven’t found them.”
“Then he’s well concealed. You need a ground force. I think I will have to go look for him, and Aunt M.”
“Not by yourself.” Fern sent a steadfast stare. “No.”
“And if I leave you here and go on?” He ignored her and addressed Ryke. “I will have to see if any of the scavs will join me. They won’t mind shooting at mekkers. Your people might.”
“Maybe. I can’t spare them anyway. Well, a couple at most. But you.” Ryke pointed a finger at him. “Cannot handle a hundred men, either. Wait for me to organize a ramm with mekker soldiers. Mako likes me. I have his ear. I can do this.”
“His ear?” It was a saying for sure and sounded painful. “How long would that take to do?”
“I cannot say. This gathering at the Chasm is soon. After that, it might be easiest.”
And if the judge moved on, or if he had found a mech he could repair? JI sipped, then downed a swallow. “I’ll think on this.”
Not without me, he saw Fern mouth. How could she want this? He read fear in her, as per usual, but why would that drive her to insist?
“Enough with the nasty business of this world. What you said before…” Ryke drawled. “About seeing this place, this story of my house, on the day you left. I had no proper walls then. Not much in the way of windows either. I remember when you left. What did you see?”
Gio sat up and he saw the realization hit. Her eyes stayed wide. She’d figured it out too.
“Both of you. It looked fun. You’d told me about your fuckspears. Ever since then I’ve remembered them.”
Exquisite Possession: A Dark Scifi Romance (The Machinery of Desire Book 4) Page 14
