Under the Shadow of the Plateau: Frontier Forever

by Benjamin Krieger

  Drifting in and out of sleep as he lay waiting for Lincoln to regain consciousness, Rhodes’ mind kept wandering back to Vivian. It had been a long time since he had seen another tribesman, and he was still processing what it meant to find one as poachers’ cargo. She mentioned having a sister back home who he couldn’t help but conflate with Pathos. He thought of every time a Dakota had been reported missing at the meetings atop Grand Mesa, and wondered how many tribesmen had already been victimized. Figuring that there must be millions of animals killed or taken for each human, he started vomiting quietly in the sand beside him. He didn’t want to admit it, but knowing that tribesmen were now targets was changing his perspective on the war.

  Waves of guilt and shame washed over him as he considered his dual citizenship with the Starrletts and the Onondaga. For months, he had been telling himself that he hated all humans, but that facade had fractured as soon as he saw one in a cage. He had compartmentalized his humanity to cope with the daily atrocities and those emotional barriers were crumbling. Catching a glimpse of the gore from the destroyed carrier beneath Lincoln, he started retching more violently and had to close his eyes. Overtaken by empathy for his gorillion brother’s tragic accident, he fell into a deep sleep.

  Rhodes’ nightmares began atop Grand Mesa, where all of the Dakota had gathered. It was more people than he had ever seen in one place. Floating above them, he could feel invisible elastic strings connecting him to each one. Then he felt the rumble of a massive shockwave building up inside the Earth before the entire mountain exploded. For what felt like hours, he watched every person he had ever known disintegrate in slow-motion. Particles of his friends and family ripped through him like toxic radiation before fading into the wind.

  It shamed him to be so callous, but Rhodes was surprised by how much it hurt to watch his parents go. He thought that the ties between them had been damaged when they started mourning the loss of Pathos, and even more so when they stopped. His missing brother was on the holy mountain too, and unlike the rest of their relations, their spiritual connection did not fade. The strands between them had been braided tight, and even though he hadn’t seen his twin in much longer, Rhodes felt a sudden need to reach out and grab the fraying bonds with their mother and father. Seeing their parents in imminent danger sent streaks of pain in through Rhodes’ eyeballs, down to his groin, and out his big toes. He felt guilty for having left without saying goodbye. Only half aware that this was a dream, the thought of actually losing them stoked a rage inside him that he could not control.

  Suddenly, he was the wolf again, this time in a desert. He still wasn’t hungry, but he took down prey. He was stronger and faster than before. Then he was not the wolf, but an invader inside its mind. The creature sensed him so he fled. Then he was another animal, running from what could only have been the Thunder-Lizard. Its smell stung his nostrils and primordial terror rumbled up from the deepest parts of himself. The monster caught him. He died and was reborn as a human, casually stalking two deer. He wished Lincoln could have been there to share in the fine meal as he pounced, but instead of striking them down, he snatched them up in a sack. Every ounce of him knew it was wrong but he couldn’t control himself. His mind fled into one of the does for a moment, and feeling its fear was far more tolerable than the guilt of being a poacher.

  Rhodes awoke drenched in sweat and feeling like death. He thought he had already been fully committed to the fight against the poacher army, and he was ashamed to feel his hatred for humans taken to a new level. He had disgraced his animal family by having held anything in reserve, and what little moisture was left in his body left as tears. He turned so his head was resting against Lincoln’s chest, and he could tell the gorillion was having bad dreams too.

  They were both still reeling from the container incident, and Rhodes felt comfortable assuming Lincoln was reliving the experience. The word manslaughter kept running through his head. Fighting was reckless by nature, and they had often discussed how it was an honor to die as predator or prey, but there was nothing redeeming about being penned in and liquefied. It was a terrible accident, but Rhodes understood that Lincoln might not see it that way. Even though they had nothing to do with the poor creatures’ imprisonment, they might still be alive if he hadn’t pulled that lever.

  When Lincoln finally woke up, they continued to lay in silence for a long time. The two of them were deeply contemplating completely different things, when Lincoln asked without otherwise stirring, “How many animals do you think I killed?”

  “None,” Rhodes replied solemnly. “We killed the humans who did that. And we’re going to kill more.” Neither of them were consoled by his words.

  After another hour or so spent staring up at the sky, Lincoln asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Am I okay?” Rhodes replied with a chuckle. “I’m fine... You’re the one missing half your skin... Are you okay?”

  Lincoln shrugged. “I dunno. I blacked out there for a while. I kind of remember stomping around a little bit... but it’s pretty fuzzy. My vision still isn’t quite right either.”

  Trying to lift his spirits, Rhodes asked, “Have you seen your new haircut? If you feel even half as shitty as it looks...”

  Tapping gingerly at his wounds, Lincoln managed to chuckle, “Half sounds about right.”

  Rhodes brought out what was left of their food and they ate it.

  When they were finished, Lincoln asked, “What happened to the other vehicle?”

  Rhodes had resolved not to tell the gorillion about Vivian, but he hadn’t prepared a lie, so he blurted out the truth. “There was a human inside it.”

  “No shit,” Lincoln said sarcastically, assuming he meant a poacher.

  “She was a Dakota,” Rhodes replied. “She was locked in a cage in the back.”

  “No shit,” Lincoln replied, this time in disbelief.

  After a long silence, Rhodes said assuringly, “Doesn’t change anything...”

  “Huh?” Lincoln asked quizzically.

  “It doesn’t change anything,” Rhodes repeated confidently. “We’re going into the tunnels, and we’re going to put a stop to this whole damned mess.” As if that explained everything, he turned to stare out across the desert.

  “Tunnels?” Lincoln asked, too tired to be concerned about how vague his brother was being.

  Without breaking his distant gaze, Rhodes explained softly, “Just a week or so west of here, there’s a basin with three crescent mountain ranges, and each one has an entrance.”

  Sounding tired and frustrated, but also a little excited, Lincoln replied, “Entrance to what?”

  Slowly, Rhodes turned towards Lincoln and frantically blurted, “It’s like they have some kind of underground railroad. I saw it on their map. They must be using them to transport... cargo. Vivian took the other carrier to warn the tribes, so we’re good to go. It doesn’t change anything.”

  Lincoln nodded slowly but still looked confused. “Vivian was the survivor?”

  Rhodes nodded affirmatively.

  Lincoln still had a lot of questions, but after a few more words and a half day’s rest, they left for the tunnels. Baking under the hot sun, scabs were forming nicely over his wounds and none of them seemed to be infected. His mind, on the other hand, was flooded with terrible thoughts about what it must have been like for the animals inside that container. He knew he had been lucky to survive his fall, and he wanted to go back to the Starrletts to hug his mother, but for those who would never return to their herds because of his actions, Lincoln had to keep fighting.

  Luckily for them, they found five skirmishes in their first three days across the desert. Both of them were pouring their hearts into each battle, but Lincoln was getting the lion’s share of the kills. Despite his injuries, the gorillion physically outmatched the poachers to a degree where it was safe for him to charge in alone, so they weren’t performing nearly as many duo-maneuvers as they had before the accident. The tribesman was no slouch, of course, but h
e was also distracted.

  Pathos never left Rhodes’ thoughts completely, but even in combat, he would occasionally find himself amidst vivid recollections of when he had found Vivian. Her abduction had cast new light on how tribesmen fit into the war. Discarded conspiracy theories resurfaced and mixed with the new information. Once again, he was convinced that USi had kidnapped his twin brother. Knowing that they had too much on their plates already, Rhodes didn’t want to mention it, but he couldn’t help himself. Just loud enough so the gorillion could hear, the human shouted, “Pathos is alive!”

  Slowing his pace slightly, Lincoln asked without looking back, “What makes you say that?”

  Struggling not to waiver, Rhodes blurted, “They must have kidnapped him the same way they did Vivian! The crater was just a cover-up! The government must have taken them for some–”

  Lincoln stopped dead in his tracks and Rhodes almost ran into him. It took a moment for him to compose himself before saying, still without turning around, “Poachers took Vivian. What makes you think the government was involved?”

  “They’re not hunting humans the same way they do animals,” Rhodes replied without thinking. Noticing what was left of Lincoln’s hair bristle, he rushed to explain. “There was one human among all those animals. Granted, there could have been one in yours too–” Lincoln’s fists clenched. “–but they still would have been the only two we’d ever seen. The poachers are attacking herds head on, but it seems like they’re only targeting young humans caught out away from their tribes.”

  Turning around slowly, Lincoln said with a deep and rumbling voice that sounded very much like his father’s, “What are you trying to say? You think humans won’t sell humans because they’re harder to get? That just makes them cost more.”

  They had joked before about how people used money, but Rhodes was surprised by Lincoln’s astute economic assertion. Again, his instinct was to back down, but he knew better than to break eye contact with a gorillion. Wincing, he tried his best not to offend his brother, “I mean, I get how supply and demand works, but even if ten kids were taken from each tribe, that would be nothing compared to what the poachers are legally allowed to do to animals... You’d be talking about such a small consumer pool that the market wouldn’t exist–”

  Rhodes would have kept talking but Lincoln cut him off with an angry snort. “Is this going to end with you saying humans wouldn’t keep humans as pets?”

  “Eat shit. We already talked about how Pathos might have been taken offworld.”

  With a simple backhand, Lincoln sent Rhodes tumbling down the dune. When the human reached the bottom, the two of them exchanged an angry glance before resuming their trek towards the tunnels.

  Vegetation was scarce in that part of the world, and Rhodes and Lincoln had resorted to eating some poacher flesh but didn’t bother bringing leftovers with them. It took them weeks to find the lowland junction where the entrances were supposed to be, and after spending three whole days circling the same mountainsides, they hadn’t found so much as a single poacher to kill. Neither of them said a word as they climbed up to an overlook and built a small stone concealment. Their silence was partially due to caution, but rising tension was also contributing to their lack of communication.

  Frustrated with himself for having potentially misread the map, Rhodes couldn’t think straight. Between Vivian, the Onondaga, Pathos, and regret over having spoken that way to Lincoln, the tribesman’s attention was spread thin. He was sure that the government was involved in Pathos’ disappearance, but he knew that the connection to Vivian’s abduction must have seemed tenuous, so he didn’t blame Lincoln for getting mad. He wasn’t trying to imply that humans were any more important than animals, and he wanted to assure his brother of it. He thought long and hard about how to explain everything that was running through his head, but he couldn’t manage to articulate any of it.

  Similarly, Lincoln was having a hard time understanding why he was so upset. He wanted to blame everything on the physical and emotional pain from his fall off the carrier, but he knew it was more than that. He had admitted to himself that pulling that handle had been an accident, but that didn’t help him feel any less responsible. The moral injury resulting from killing so many innocent animals was far worse than the sand burns that wrapped around his body and would inevitably scar, but it was more than that too.

  After his original visit to the crater, Rhodes had come up with a number of far-fetched conspiracy theories, but Lincoln had gone along with them the best he could. This one wasn’t any less probable, but with the war on, it struck a different chord. Countless animals had been enslaved since the conflict started, but poaching wasn’t new. Obviously, finding a human girl as cargo meant they had to adjust their thinking in many ways. Lincoln wanted to go warn the Onondaga, but Rhodes said nothing had changed. It was true, poachers weren’t taking people the same way they were animals, but looking for an elaborate explanation as to why a single human victim had been taken was upsetting. Of course, Lincoln knew that the only reason Rhodes was so eager to believe something so ridiculous was Pathos. The gorillion wanted to get behind any theory wherein their missing brother might still be alive, but he didn’t have the energy to keep pretending it was probable. After hiding behind the thin stone blind for a few more hours, he complained quietly, “This is stupid. They know we’re here.”

  “It’s a stakeout,” Rhodes replied, defensively at first. But then he continued with calm, “Or even if they do know we’re here, eventually they’ll come and try to get us. Then it’s an ambush.”

  “Or maybe they’ll just let us sit here and starve,” Lincoln grumbled, unhappily picking at a scab. “At least I can tan my stripes...”

  Trying to stay relaxed, Rhodes said, “Well, if you have a better idea, let me know... Because I don’t... If they know we’re here, I’d be willing to bet that their surveillance is based on movement, so the longer we sit still, the better our chances.”

  Lincoln wanted to keep arguing but didn’t. They were out of food, and there were more long hours without conversation between them, but the tension somehow started to dissipate. Regardless of what happened with the war, the divisions between their races weren’t going anywhere. Tribesmen were distinctly different from the rest of the humans on the planet, intended to be part of Natural Order in a way that city folk were not, but animals were on another level. The adoptive brothers had known each other since they were young and the kinship between them was unquestionable. As the stars came out that night, both of them thought about how much they liked having the other as family and refused to believe that there was any real racial prejudice between them. There was no denying that having humans on both sides of the war made things more complicated, but it was something they were just going to have to deal with.

  Another two days passed and they ran out of water. Rhodes’ confidence was at an all time low as he whispered, “I don’t know. Maybe we should go down there and bang around on some rocks or something. Maybe someone will open the door.”

  Lincoln turned to Rhodes with a confused look, then laughed when he realized it was a joke. He shook his head as he said, “We should resupply in the morning at least. I’m starving.”

  Although there was no moon, the stars were bright. Five hours went by as they stared out into the nothingness of the bottom half of the horizon before something suddenly moved against the distant darkness. Neither of them dared take a breath as they tried to focus on what seemed to be a long caravan coming into the basin and going around the bend before vanishing into the side of one of the mountains, precisely where a door was supposed to have been.

  “Must’ve opened for them automatically,” Rhodes murmured. “Looked like they continued to slow down even after the turn.”

  “Yup,” Lincoln replied confidently. “We can hit it.”

  Under the cover of night, they found some water, two lizards and a rat before moving to a more convenient spot to hide. They had to wait another f
our days until they finally heard the faint humming of distant vehicles. By the time the poachers’ convoy came around the bend, Rhodes and Lincoln were running full speed alongside it. The formation was considerably smaller than the one they had barely seen in the dark—just one large carrier, one medium, and a row of bike and buggy escorts on either side—but the duo knew better than to count their blessings.

  Without breaking stride, Rhodes planted one foot firmly on the ground and spun with his warclub fully extended. Lincoln leapt and grabbed onto the stone club’s tip at precisely the right moment, launching himself clear over the convoy to land squarely on top of the rear escort. Lincoln felt the poacher’s spine crumple like an accordion beneath him, and without bothering to steady the bike, he leapt forward and snapped the neck of the man driving the next one. Leapfrogging to the third bike, he landed with one foot on each of the poacher’s hips, planted his palms underneath the man’s helmet and extended his body upward like a piston. With a satisfying pop, the helmeted head went flying into the air, then the gorillion did the same thing to two more bikers before landing on the lead buggy.

  Gracefully swinging in through the roll cage, Lincoln grabbed the driver’s jugular and ripped it out. He tried to throw the dying man out of his seat, but he was belted in, so the ape-cat spun around and slammed into him with his back, crushing most of his bones against the seat as he took over the controls. Seeing the tunnel entrance open as they approached, Lincoln broke the poachers leg just above the knee, jammed it down into the accelerator well, aimed the speeding cart towards the corner of the door and leapt onto the cab of the forward carrier.

  As soon as he had sent Lincoln airborne, Rhodes had used more fancy footwork to spin and fling the warclub ahead of the lead escort on the near side of the convoy. Gaining on its target as it rounded the turn, the smooth stone weapon made its ominous low-whooping sound until it slammed through the biker and lodged itself in the cab of the lead vehicle. The second bike crashed into debris from the first, and the three buggies behind them swerved to avoid the mess. Rhodes had never stopped moving forward and he used the last two buggies like stepping stones to board the tail end of the rear carrier. He climbed up, made his way to the cab and was trying to open the top hatch by the time the mountain opened to swallow them.