The Far Shores (The Central Series)

by Rawlins, Zachary

  “I don’t get that at all,” Rebecca Levy frowned, coming to stand just behind Eerie. “I don’t sense any emotion whatsoever.”

  “That isn’t it,” Eerie said, continuing her slow progress toward the Ether. “That isn’t it at all. It is so much more than that.”

  “Fascinating,” Dr. Graaf murmured. “Can you explain, child?”

  “We are all children beside it,” Eerie hummed, turning her attention briefly to Alex, who did his best to smile. “Can you hear it, Alex?”

  He paused and strained to hear anything besides the wind, but there was nothing. He shook his head reluctantly.

  “No,” Alex admitted. “I can’t hear anything.”

  “But you believe me?”

  “Of course,” Alex said, shrugging. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Eerie smiled and touched his cheek with her fingertips.

  “You’re so good. No one ever believes me.”

  Alex blushed and mumbled something inarticulate, while Eerie’s gaze returned to the horizon.

  “Oh, spare me,” Katya muttered.

  “Shut up,” Rebecca commanded. “Something is…”

  The wind gusted with a sudden force that sprayed them with grit and tore at their coats. Eerie wobbled unsteadily, and Alex grabbed her arm with both hands to keep her from falling. His hat was already tumbling across the sand before he realized that it had been blown from his head. The whole group watched as the wind tugged it rapidly toward the Ether.

  “Oh, fuck,” Alex moaned. “That sucks.”

  He grabbed the top of his head with one hand by belated reflex. He could only watch in dismay as the knit cap sailed above the placid surface of the Ether, hovering a few meters out from where the sand ended. Alex turned to apologize to Eerie, but she brushed his hands away.

  “One second.”

  She was gone, running clumsily across the sand before he could lunge for her.

  Alex stumbled after her, the wet sand slowing him, but Dr. Graaf seized him by the shoulders with surprising strength and brought him to a halt.

  “Careful,” he admonished. “Contact with Ether is inadvisable at best.”

  “Eerie!” Rebecca yelled, cupping her hand around her mouth. “Get back here right now! Don’t you dare…”

  “Don’t, Eerie!” Vivik called after her. “It’s dangerous!”

  Eerie paid them no mind, charging after the lost hat with one hand extended, as if she could recall it by gesture. Alex tried to shake free of Dr. Graaf, but his grip remained stubborn.

  They all fell silent as Eerie bounded from the edge of the sand, one red sneaker resting on the shore, the other hovering over the still surface of the Ether.

  Alex knew what was supposed to happen. They all did. Physical contact with the Ether was impossible. Material objects that came into contact with the Ether were often destroyed. Bare seconds of exposure could be fatal. He wanted to scream, to run after her, but somehow he did neither. Instead, he watched Eerie leap into the Ether as a child might run into the ocean.

  Her sneaker came down on the Ether.

  And stopped.

  Eerie walked carefully across the expanse of Ether that separated her from the hat with her arms extended to the sides, as if she were keeping her balance on an icy surface. Alex held his breath without realizing. Eerie picked up the hat before it could come to rest on the surface of the Ether, then turned back toward him, waving the hat enthusiastically.

  “I got it! Alex, it’s okay!”

  Seeing them all stare, Eerie glanced down around in her confusion.

  “What?” Eerie looked blankly back across the face of the Ether, which reflected only her and the sky. “Did something happen?”

  Twelve.

  “I gather that your efforts were no more satisfactory than my own.”

  “Too true, Lóa,” Brennan Thule agreed, pouring wine into a second glass on the crowded table. The remains of a substantial meal were scattered across the table linen, four courses with cheeses and fruit, picked at and then set aside. “The Black Sun merits the reputation it has earned. What news from their representatives in Central?”

  “Josef Martynova refused to speak to me,” Lóa said, shedding her coat and sitting across the table with a sigh. “He has no interest in seeing his daughter returned to power, beside whatever stillborn paternal instinct he might possess – not when that return would come at his own expense.”

  Brennan Thule ran his finger along the rim of his wine glass and rested his chin glumly on his arm while Lóa drained her glass in one go, then reached for the bottle.

  “As we expected,” Brennan said. “But he was the second option. What of the first?”

  “Renton Hall?” Lóa made a sour face while she filled her glass. “Exactly as abominable as we heard. He appeared to be preoccupied with offering us insults, rather than coming to any kind of accord. There was a brief moment, after I showed him the photos, when he appeared perturbed, but it was too quick for me to be certain. He did not seem as enamored of the Martynova girl as we have been led to believe. Either our intelligence is incorrect, or...”

  “Or Anastasia Martynova is every bit as formidable as we were warned,” Brennan concluded wryly, cutting smoothly into Lóa’s rapid-fire dialog. “I have reached much the same conclusion. It is most galling to obviously have the upper hand and still have our opponent act as if they have all the cards.”

  “Then interrogation of the girl has proven fruitless?”

  “Utterly,” Brennan admitted, taking a generous sip from his glass. “If she would as much as scream, just once, that would be gratifying. I would feel satisfied by a simple confirmation of her suffering. And she does suffer, I know it – she can be harmed, she can feel pain, but it is as if she refuses to acknowledge it. Her pride is truly staggering. Even under the influence of the most powerful drugs at our disposal, she retains the presence of mind to mock, scold, and even make suggestions.”

  Lóa Thule helped herself to a handful of green grapes from one of the hardly touched plates and chewed thoughtfully.

  “You have put her to torment, then?”

  “To the extent that I dare, yes.” Brennan nodded wearily. “Keeping in mind that we are dealing with a lady of one of the great cartels, child though she may be. Much of the ordeal we have subjected her to has been psychological or telepathic, augmented with hallucinogens and sensitizing toxins. I have employed the milder techniques of which the Americans and Israelis have become so fond – sleep deprivation, manipulation of body position, suffocation, sensory overload, and electrical stimulation. Needless to say, none of this has had the desired effect.”

  “Perhaps it is time then to consider harsher measures? If she is as strong as you say, then she will not break so easily...”

  “Perhaps,” Brennan Thule agreed warily, swirling the wine in his glass, holding it up to the light as if to examine the color. “We must tread carefully. Whatever we do to her, when our uncle discovers it, there will be consequences. We were only children, but I remember his temper being fierce, once aroused. A killing he may forgive, an interrogation he may tolerate, but any outrage we commit against one of the great families will be held against us...”

  Lóa Thule nodded slowly, but did not appear convinced.

  “The greater the power at our disposal, the less the forgiveness required.”

  “I agree with your interpretation,” Brennan Thule said, setting his cup aside and poking halfheartedly at a thick-crusted white cheese he clearly had no intention of eating. “But our uncle will most likely not. All of our intelligence says otherwise. He has tolerated – one might even allege he has nurtured – Anastasia Martynova, and her progressive usurpation of the Black Sun. He may favor her rule above that of her father. We sought to eliminate her because she represented a wildcard, but I fear that we may have taken an action that will come back to haunt us. That risk only grows the longer she remains in our possession.”

  “Then you sent me to make a deal..
.”

  “Yes,” Brennan Thule nodded. “I would have taken any deal sufficient for us to save face. Border concessions, trade routes, cartel allegiances...anything. I have begun to question the wisdom of attempting her elimination in the first place.”

  “Do not blame yourself, Brennan,” Lóa said, patting his hand affectionately. “Your reasoning was sound. All of the previous attempts on her life revolved around protocols. It seemed likely that you had hit on the crux of her abilities. There is no shame in underestimating one whose measure remains unknown. Tell me, though – why do you bother to interrogate her at all, if you are apprehensive of the consequences? You cannot hope to break her with such mild methods, and if you are unwilling to be more forceful...”

  “Because she expects it. I certainly would, were I in her position. The evident weakness of our position would be immediately obvious to her, otherwise. We have a tiger by the tail, Lóa.”

  Lóa put the remainder of the grapes down, her appetite lost.

  “Surely, you must have some sort of plan...”

  Brennan Thule’s smile was rueful.

  “An even greater gamble than what we have already attempted, but we are in far too deep to consider walking away. The consequences we fear would be assured by our retreat.”

  Lóa Thule perked up, studying him optimistically.

  “Do not keep me in suspense, cousin.”

  “Anastasia Martynova is no longer here,” Brennan Thule said, cutting a thin slice from the wheel of cheese and the examining it closely, as if searching it for flaws. “I have ordered her sedated and transported to Reykjavik. She is currently being moved by multistage apport, to disguise the final destination.”

  Lóa Thule dropped her wine glass, which tumbled from the table to shatter on the stone floor.

  “Cousin?” Her face went pale. “Why would you do such a thing?”

  “It is a terrible risk,” he acknowledged, placing the cheese in his mouth, and then swallowing it without bothering to chew, a look of profound distaste on his face. “Of that I am well aware. I fully understand and share your apprehension. But there is no other place where my intention can be realized.”

  Lóa Thule’s eyes widened and she put one hand to her chest.

  “You cannot mean?”

  “Exactly,” Brennan Thule agreed glumly. “I have ordered her confined in the cartel sanctum. She will be tried by ordeal. The well has been appropriately adulterated.”

  “Cousin!”

  “If she does not survive, then our original goal is realized, more or less. We have only the difficulty of moving the corpse to another locale, and finding a different cause to ascribe it to. No easy matter, but surmountable. And if she is strong enough to survive the ordeal,” Brennan Thule explained, with a hint of eagerness, “then she will be one of us.”

  ***

  “They are talking about me.”

  “No,” Alex said, stroking Eerie’s hair while she rested her head on his shoulder. “They are talking about us.”

  They sat on a barren hill that provided enough elevation to see over the regular buildings of the Far Shores to the brightly lit shape of the power plant’s smokestack, the vast non-reflective darkness of the Ether presumably behind it, blending imperceptibly with the dull night sky. The wind had died down somewhat, but Alex still huddled in a hoodie and his recovered hat. As usual, Eerie seemed indifferent to the cold, wearing little more than a patterned blouse, a lace-bordered skirt, and silvery metallic tights.

  After the chaos of the afternoon, Alex was surprised that they had had so little difficulty slipping away from the dining hall, but perhaps Rebecca Levy and Dr. Graaf had been too preoccupied with the fallout from the events of the tour to bother keeping track of them. He was certain that Katya had noticed them leaving, but she hadn’t said anything to stop them, and if she followed, then she did so discreetly.

  Alex wished he could see the stars. He was tired of the empty sky.

  He had picked the hill deliberately. He had been at the Far Shores long enough to identify the surprisingly humble structure that served Dr. Graaf as an administrative office, and from their current vantage, it was in plain view. Lights burned inside, as they had since they climbed the hill, so Alex assumed the discussion that had begun the moment that Eerie set foot on the sand was ongoing. The tedious tour of the inner portion of the campus a functionary had led them on for the remainder of the afternoon – while Dr. Graaf and Rebecca trailed behind speaking in hushed voices – had been transparently intended to do little more than occupy time.

  Eerie lay down, settling her head on his thigh, and Alex rested his hand on the swell of her hip. He had been thinking the situation over for hours, with little result. He trusted Rebecca to the extent that he did not believe she would not allow any harm to befall the Changeling. But he did not trust Dr. Graaf or the Far Shores, and half-suspected they wanted to keep Eerie in some sort of laboratory, running tests and poking her with needles in an attempt to figure out how she did whatever she had done.

  Dr. Graaf had been very excited by Eerie’s performance, but to Alex’s eyes, he didn’t seem surprised. In fact, Alex couldn’t think of a good reason why he would have taken them out to the beach in the first place if he hadn’t had some idea what might happen. It was possible that he had intended something like this from the very start.

  It was only a matter of time until someone came looking for Eerie. And Alex didn’t know what he was going to do about that – if there even was anything to be done. He was determined to shield her from this situation, but he had no idea how to achieve that outcome, and sitting on the hill and cuddling with the taciturn Changeling hadn’t clarified things one bit.

  “I think that there are people,” Eerie said uncertainly, raising her head up from his leg. “Two people. Coming up the hill.”

  Alex stood up and watched the darkened slope. It took him a moment to make them out for himself. Eerie was right. Two people, one stopping occasionally to help the other climb the uneven and shifting gravel. He clenched his fists and swore under his breath, while Eerie stared out at the night, apparently unconcerned. They were already too close to consider running, and there was nowhere to run to, anyway. The Far Shores campus was surrounded on three sides by kilometers of nothing.

  Eventually, he settled for sitting back down beside Eerie and waiting.

  “We are coming up there, you two,” Katya called out from just below them. “So put your clothes back on, or whatever.”

  “You especially, Alex,” Vivik added, sounding slightly out of breath.

  “Christ,” Alex sighed, shaking his head. “I’m relieved it’s you guys.”

  Katya stopped in front of them, blocking their view of the Far Shores, hands on her hips and smirk on her face.

  “I bet. Rebecca’s gonna lose her shit once she realizes you guys took off again, you know.”

  “She hasn’t noticed yet?” Alex asked hopefully.

  “No. Not yet,” Vivik confirmed, sitting down near Alex with a sigh of relief. “Not when we left, anyway.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “I don’t see why,” Katya objected. “That just means they’re still arguing over what to do.”

  Eerie glanced from one face to the other blankly.

  “Are we in trouble again?”

  “Probably. But don’t worry about it,” Alex said, patting her leg. “I’m gonna figure something out this time.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I doubt it myself,” Katya said, when she stopped laughing.

  “What are you guys doing up here, anyway?” Alex asked. “You could get in trouble too, you know.”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Katya retorted. She then took Eerie by the hand and helped her up, ignoring the Changeling’s evident confusion. “C’mon, Eerie. Take a walk with me.”

  “Hey! What are you – ”

  “None of your business,” Katya said, leading Eerie off into the darkness, away from the
Far Shores. “Girl talk. You guys talk about video games, or football, or something.”

  There was a brief silence while Alex tried to figure out what Katya had in mind. Then he abandoned it as fruitless.

  “I don’t even like football,” Vivik pointed out.

  “And I don’t play video games,” Alex added.

  Of course, the girls were too far away to hear their rejoinder.

  The silence continued, making the distance that had grown between them painfully evident. Alex had never previously needed to search for something to say to Vivik – their friendship had even been comfortable when there was nothing to talk about. Now the air was filled with questions, and somehow Alex couldn’t bring himself to ask any of them.

  “Been a while,” Vivik offered. “You like it here?”

  “It’s okay,” Alex said, shrugging. “I didn’t think it was possible, but honestly, I miss the Academy.”

  “You miss the Academy, or you miss Eerie?”

  It was too dark to see Vivik’s face clearly, but Alex heard tension in his voice, even if he didn’t fully understand it.

  “Both, I guess. What about you? When I come back, you’re never around. What have you been up to?”

  “My project,” Vivik said softly. “You know that I’ve had this idea I’ve been working on in my spare time, right? Well, recently, circumstances have changed. I might have found the opportunity that I’ve been looking for.”

  “That’s great. I think. Opportunity to what?”

  “To change things. For everyone.”

  Alex shook his head and laughed, earning a sharp look from Vivik.

  “Anyone else said that, I’d be worried,” Alex said. “But if you say it, then it’s gotta be a good thing.”

  Vivik hesitated for quite a while.

  “I’m glad...that you feel that way. Though if you knew the whole of it, you might have some reservations.”

  “Um. Do you wanna tell me about it, or what?”