Claus: The Trilogy

by Tony Bertauski

  She wanted that.

  She wanted what they had.

  But someone has to watch the horizon, she told herself.

  That was no excuse. But she told herself that anyway.

  Nog pulled out a metallic ball.

  Jessica had seen one of them, briefly. She’d seen the balls in the midst of the storm. As the last of the sleighs escaped, one of the balls flew into the seat next to her and Nog threw it in his bag. Now he held it in the palm of his hand. Lights blinked along the surface.

  He tossed it into the snow.

  A form suddenly rose up, a body of snow and ice with stout arms and a fat head.

  A snowman.

  A mean-looking snowman stomped its legs into the snow.

  “Frosty,” Nog said. “This is Jessica. She’s Jon’s mother.”

  The snowman tipped his head, just a bit, as if to say Howdy, ma’am.

  Jessica stared.

  “Frosty is one of the four abominables,” Nog said. He explained the electromagnetic field that formed the body. Tinsel named him. Jon met him on attack day.

  Jessica coldly watched the horizon. She didn’t want to be thinking of that. Not right now. The snowman didn’t seem offended. He turned his back and watched the horizon with her.

  “Frosty will buy us a few minutes,” Nog added. “In case Rudy is late.”

  He opened the bag again, pulled out a sleigh, this one a two-seater. He fussed with the reins and buckles. He climbed on and looked busy brushing snowflakes off the seat. He eventually sat down and watched the horizon. He started to whistle but quickly stopped.

  Jessica was in no mood for a song.

  She felt the tremor.

  Frosty swelled in size, stirring the air around them. The horizon – a sharp line of ice that separated sky from water – began to blur. The fuzzy stampede stretched out for miles.

  She wanted to stay. She wanted to fight them. All of them. Every single one of them. She wanted to get back at them for what they’d done to the elven. She wanted revenge for making her lean over a box and say goodbye to her son through a glass window, unable to touch his face, to kiss his cheek.

  BOOM.

  Snow settled around the red-nosed reindeer.

  He turned his enormous rack toward the horizon and pawed the ice. Jessica could feel what he was thinking.

  Let’s stay.

  “Come along.” Nog hurried the sleigh behind Rudy. “We need to be ready.”

  He clipped the halter into place and adjusted and set the sleigh ready for launch. He climbed onto the seat. The six-legged beasts were still far away.

  But closing.

  Jessica imagined their hot, humid breath. The scratch of claws. The beady blackness of their eyes–

  “Jessica.” Nog said it forcefully. “We must go. They will follow us.”

  Follow, yes. They would follow Jessica, follow her mind, her thought pattern. She and Nog would leap far away and settle long enough to lure them away from the colony, to keep them safe. It wasn’t time to fight.

  Not yet.

  Jessica slid next to Nog.

  The snow fell away from Frosty like white ash. The ball leaped into Nog’s hand.

  Rudy crouched.

  Launch.

  Jessica could feel a thousand eyes follow them across the sky.

  Away from her son.

  C L A U S

  37.

  Jocah adjusted her cushion before crossing her legs to sit.

  She folded her hands and rested them in the upturned bottom of her outer shirt like a hammock. Her room was small. It was always small. The colony had to downsize the extent of their habitat; they had to be ready to evacuate within a moment’s notice.

  Everyone was watching the horizon.

  Jocah took a deep breath and let it leak out her nostrils. She settled into the aches perennially haunting her back and knees and shoulder. They had become a part of daily life. But the emotions that weighed on her stomach, they were something new.

  She was taking a moment to sit quietly with these feelings. She left Jessica and Nog behind. Jocah had insisted that her scientists find another way – to perhaps mask the signals her mind was projecting like a beacon for Jack to follow – but there wasn’t time, they insisted.

  The decision, though, wasn’t hers.

  Jessica informed her that she would not be staying with the colony. She asked only one thing in return, that they see to the care and well-being of her only son. Jocah did not have to promise anything that hadn’t already been decided. Jon had been welcomed into the colony just as Jessica had been.

  I will not put your people at risk. Jessica was not asking for permission, simply informing Jocah what she would be doing.

  When Nog volunteered to remain, Jessica refused. But that, however, was not her decision. She wouldn’t survive to day’s end if Nog did not stay with her.

  If they capture me, she said, then I shall see my husband. What better ending is that?

  You may not want to see what they’ve done to him.

  After all, Jocah had experienced the loss.

  It had been three thousand years since she gave birth.

  Jocah had agreed to become impregnated with a genetically modified embryo. Her child was going to be the future leader of the elven. He would age slower than ever before. His intelligence and empathic ability would allow him to lead with love and compassion, a leader beloved by the elven.

  But the universe has a way of balancing.

  Claus was first born.

  He was perfect in every way. He learned their language in the first year. He was observant and intuitive. Rarely did he need to be told something twice. He frequently discovered how to do things on his own. Kind and thoughtful, strong and courageous.

  Jocah had given birth to the future leader, just as they predicted.

  But there was another child.

  Claus had a twin that slid from the womb thirty seconds later.

  When the doctors held the child up, he appeared to be stillborn. His skin was the color of a cloudless summer day. His eyes were open, deep and black.

  The doctor nearly dropped him. Later, his hands were treated for ice burns.

  Jack entered the world.

  It started out very normal.

  Jack followed his big brother everywhere. He mimicked everything he did. He tried to be just like him.

  But things changed.

  Water would sometimes turn to ice when he touched it. He preferred to be naked, even on the coldest nights. He preferred to sleep in rooms near the bottom. At times, when he explored his surroundings, he could be found playing in the darkest part of winter storms.

  Jack stopped smiling.

  Jocah wasn’t sure when that happened. She rarely forgot anything, but in those days she was busy leading the elven. And when she wasn’t doing that, she was grooming Claus as her successor.

  The nannies reported his behavior.

  Jocah tried to talk with him, but he sat there, staring.

  Sometimes she found him in his closet, tucked into the dark corner with his legs pulled against his chest.

  Singing.

  Others began to worry when Claus and Jack went on their first hunting expedition.

  They were kept inside a sleigh to observe how polar bears were tracked. When the first bear was confirmed dead, they were brought out to observe the rituals of giving thanks and cleaning the prey. While the lead elven was showing them the padding and claws on the beast’s feet, Jack was near the face, opening and closing the bear’s eyes.

  Giggling.

  Jack was yang to Claus’s ying.

  They were opposites.

  They were balance.

  Imbalance began the day Jack arrived at Jocah’s quarters with a proposal.

  Claus had been leading the elven for nearly a thousand years. During that time, Jack was off doing his own thing. Jocah didn’t see him much. When he entered wearing a new outfit, she realized her mistake. His clothes were fin
ely tailored, made with dark colors that matched the purplish shade of his fingernails and the strange hue of his tongue.

  He was an odd child, but he was a dangerous adult.

  Jocah never recognized the extent of his arrogance, his appetite for power and destruction.

  He denounced the current leadership of these elven. These elven, he said. Weak and cowardly.

  He claimed that the elven were becoming like vermin, hiding in the corner of the world. He claimed this was her fault. This was Claus’s fault.

  And he would stand for it no more.

  You have a week to turn power over to me.

  He did not wait for a response. He didn’t expect one.

  He’d already amassed a secret army.

  And when two elven entered her quarters dressed as he was, she knew the action that needed to be taken. She would not be short-sighted again.

  These elven.

  Jocah informed Claus that she would be leaving.

  She did not keep it a secret as to why. She told him that Jack was dangerous and that he needed to be stopped.

  Then why run? he said. Stay and fight.

  It was too late for that.

  Sadly, she had no answers.

  Sadly, Claus stayed.

  How could I have been so blind?

  Jack had been dangerous from the beginning. Perhaps it was the wishful thinking – the hoping – a mother has for her child that he will find success, find happiness. Find his place in the universe. She ignored the obvious signs of what he was becoming. He was not merely a disturbed child.

  He was a monster.

  And it was too late to stop him.

  Jocah left in secret before her week was up.

  She expected to leave with only a few fellow elven. She never expected the groundswell of supporters to follow her into a life of exile. Perhaps she was blind beyond her own observations, that others had seen the danger long before she had. They were prepared to leave, to make a new life, to survive long enough to find a way to survive Jack’s rule.

  Claus knew Jack was too strong to fight.

  His brother had already fashioned a secret police through fear and coercion. Claus couldn’t leave the elven that stayed behind. They would need help.

  Jocah left her son behind. She abandoned him.

  And now she had abandoned Jessica.

  Those decisions weighed heavily upon her.

  C L A U S

  38.

  Nicholas’s eyes spastically jerked back and forth beneath his lids.

  Already in a REM cycle, he seemed to be looking around for something. Perhaps his subconscious was searching for the lost memories.

  Claus checked his vital signs. He was in remarkable health given all that he’d been through. Not just physically – his body had adapted quite well to the cold-tolerance treatments – but mentally, too. He was tough.

  But there was more to come.

  Who’s the monster now?

  Claus kept himself busy with the vital signs, checking them, double-checking, triple-checking, to avoid that thought. He was about to take more of Nicholas’s past, a warmblood that – despite Claus’s best efforts – he was beginning to like.

  Who’s the monster now?

  I’m not, he told himself. I’m not a monster.

  Claus stayed when Jocah left, despite her objections. He stayed not out of some misplaced guilt (How many times did he do nothing when the others were teasing Jack? How many times did he ignore him?), but to truly serve the elven. To serve the world.

  Janack is the monster. And I can’t stop him.

  If he could just slow him down, just enough, then perhaps the colony could have a little more time. If he could somehow make Jack see how cruel and–

  He’d given that up a long time ago.

  Face it, the end is near.

  Claus went to the bench and checked his instruments. When everything was in order, he looked back at Nicholas and prepared a final few steps before he began this phase of the memory drain.

  He prepared for the end.

  C L A U S

  39.

  Nicholas wasn’t dreaming.

  He wasn’t awake, either.

  I’m remembering.

  It was different, though. Not like daydreaming about once upon a time. At some level, he knew where he was. And why.

  At some level, it didn’t matter.

  There was nothing he could do about it.

  So he enjoyed his memories.

  One last time.

  Nicholas almost gave up on wooing Jessica.

  She was stubborn and strong and resistant. Then again, those were the things that Nicholas found endearing. But even he had his limits, and he was reaching them.

  So when he returned to leave another gift in her stockings and found her waiting on the stoop, when she didn’t leave when she saw him (and she saw him; she was looking right at him when he approached) he didn’t know what to do. He stopped right in the middle of the street and pinched himself.

  She called him over.

  He stood silent while she laid down the rules.

  You can take me on a date, but nowhere fancy.

  You won’t spend any money on me.

  You will never lie to me.

  You will never lie to yourself.

  “And,” she said, pointing at him like he missed something obvious, “that last one is a lot harder than you think, Nicholas.”

  Nicholas looked like he’d been struck with an axe handle. A grin broke out on his face.

  “What are you smiling at?” Jessica said.

  “You said Nicholas.”

  “Well, that’s your name, isn’t it?”

  Yeah. That’s my name. Nicholas stuck out his hand and she shook it.

  “Deal.”

  She thought he had no idea what he’d just gotten himself into.

  But neither did she.

  Their first date was five miles outside of town.

  He trotted up on a horse. It was a thoroughbred with a black coat that shined like oil. He was towing an appaloosa with an empty saddle strapped to its back.

  “I said no buying me anything,” she said.

  “Her name is Dandy, and I didn’t buy her for you.”

  Dandy trotted up next to Nicholas and pounded at the frozen mud.

  “I’m just going to let you borrow her. If you’d rather lease her, I suppose I could charge you something fair.”

  She put out her hand and let Dandy smell it. The horse’s nostrils flared. Her breath was warm. Jessica scratched her rubbery lips.

  “She likes you,” Nicholas said. “But if you’d rather walk–”

  Jessica climbed into the saddle and took the reins. She double-clicked her tongue. Nicholas raced to catch up.

  Who ever heard of a date in the woods?

  Jessica loved it.

  She liked hiking and discovering new things. She loved to push herself to her limits.

  Nicholas showed her all his favorite trails and secret camping places. In no time, he was having to keep up with her as she forged new trails and climbed difficult rocks. They challenged each other to do more, to go farther and faster.

  She refused to accept the food he brought, at least the first couple of dates.

  Once they were past the testing period (that lasted maybe two months), they were sharing everything. She even looked the other way when he left gifts for her siblings.

  Occasionally, she would keep one for herself.

  Jessica still worked to support her family.

  Nicholas wanted to give her the money, basically hire her so she didn’t have to.

  “I told you,” she said, “you can’t buy me.”

  “Who’s buying? I need a naturalist guide to help out with trailblazing and identifying plants. There’s no one better than you, Jessica.”

  Which was true. She had a knack for both.

  But so did Nicholas.

  When Nicholas turned eighteen, his parents wanted to se
nd him away to college. His father wanted him to take over the family business and he would need to be schooled in the art of business and politics.

  It sounded like torture.

  It was a total mismatch (Would there be any mountains to climb at business school?). Besides, he’d have to move.

  He knew what he wanted.

  Nicholas was waiting for Jessica when she finished work.

  Like usual.

  “Some of us have to work,” she would sometimes say.

  There was something different about him this day. She asked him half a dozen times if he was all right as they trotted their way out of town. He turned left when they were supposed to go right.

  “Where we going?”

  He didn’t say anything. Didn’t answer or acknowledge the question. He hovered over the saddle and broke into a full gallop. Jessica gave chase and found him waiting at the foot of a mountain. He’d tied his horse and was already on the trail. She shouted and laughed. If he thought she couldn’t keep up, then he was about to be shocked.

  She was always up for something new.

  Nicholas took her hand.

  That was new, too.

  They walked side by side down the narrow path, knocking snow from the heavy limbs that reached out. She was about to ask – for the seventh time – why he was smiling when she noticed someone at the end of the path.

  Jessica stuttered.

  Nicholas led her toward a man holding a book. Next to him a boy.

  “Seamus?” she said to one of Nicholas’s few friends. “What are you doing here?”

  Nicholas took both of Jessica’s hands.

  He dropped to one knee.

  Nicholas and Jessica were married in the middle of the trees at the foot of a mountain. In the long tradition of marriage, there was not a happier man and woman to be joined in matrimony, to promise each other their lives, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer.

  Forever.

  And ever.

  And ever.

  And when the ceremony was finished, the Justice of the Peace congratulated them and pulled his bicycle from the underbrush and rode away. Seamus congratulated them, hugged Jessica and hugged Nicholas, too, before riding off on his own stashed bicycle.