Wilders

by Brenda Cooper

  “Your life is so convoluted my brain hurts.”

  Lou raised an eyebrow over a wry smile.

  “What about weapons? How do we stand up to city security, much less ecobots?”

  Lou’s said, “The Foundation will get us anything we need. We’re going in to protest, not to bomb the city.”

  “That’s good. I was getting a little worried there. Seacouver has protests all the time. Peaceful ones. It’s a hobby, mostly for old women. Why do we need hacked ecobots to protest? Just because we’re outside the dome and need to get in?”

  Mouse had gotten far enough ahead that Lou had to turn in her saddle to look at Coryn. She said nothing, so Coryn kept asking questions. “But this is real, right?” Excitement, fear, and even dread rioted through her now that they were close. “We could get hurt.”

  Lou gave her a long and quite calm look. “We could. But I hope there isn’t much physical fighting. I expect it will be more hackers and systems, one against another. We have whatever Bartholomew has done, whatever other helpers have done, and we’ll be fighting the city’s systems people. Our best weapons will be our brains.” She pulled Mouse back so she rode right beside Coryn again, “And our hearts. Our hearts matter the most.”

  That sounded like the sister she missed. “I don’t know much about hacking.” She’d never even been a terribly good programmer. She swallowed. They were getting close, and that made her nervous. Did she really want to do this? “What should I do?”

  “Stay out of the way.”

  That stung. Ever since she left the city, she’d been over her head. Maybe she’d always been over her head. After all, now that she’d left it, she knew the city was far more complex than she’d thought. Coryn tugged on River’s reins to slow him down, pulling them away from Lou and Mouse. She didn’t breathe until she was at the back of the line, riding beside Blessing and Day, with only Shuska behind them.

  Shuska acted like a sweep in a line of bicycles. She rode silently, always behind, never pulling up by them. In some ways that made Coryn feel protected, but she also felt boxed in.

  They rode beside a long, low wetland and beyond that, to their left, the Columbia. High rocky cliffs shouldered them always toward the river, the color palette all the myriad browns of dried grasses, periodically punctuated with yellow or white daisies. Hawks circled overhead, and twice Blessing pointed out bald eagles.

  Later in the afternoon, the sun speared them in the face and the horses slowed to a plod. They stopped for another short rest. The river had narrowed to a quarter of its usual width, maybe less. Water roared through the narrows, plunging in a symphony of sound and strength, singing down into a huge pool before leaping and jumping down another cliff. The power of the river showed here, as if all of the rest of the ride they’d been going by a vein of water, and now they’d stopped to watch the river’s pulsing heart.

  Paula came up beside her, and said, “Celilo Falls.”

  She let out a long breath, momentarily stunned. “I remember that story. I understand, now. I don’t think I ever did. What a crime to have taken this away.” It was in her history books, the de-damming of the river, and the great celebration among the native peoples. A banner action for the great rewilding, for the human race undoing some of the damage it had done. “Isn’t there a big reservation around here then?”

  “A few. They’re actually a little inland. We’ll ride through a small part of the biggest reservation, since there’s access to the water, but they’re not allowed to do anything with their access except walk on it. The wildlife corridors around here are more important than the Indians.”

  “Really? I thought they had rights to the fish?”

  “They traded those to have the falls back.” Paula had stopped a moment, leaning over and watching the falls. “If they want to fish, they do it like everyone else, with a permit. That was their part of saving the world.”

  Coryn couldn’t stop watching the falls. “I’d like to meet a Native American.”

  “You have. Shuska is native. Mostly.”

  “Oh. I don’t think she likes me.”

  “She would love to see something happen to me,” Paula said.

  “I had never thought about that.” She’d thought they were safe, and here they were, in danger from their sister’s protector. “She’s intimidating.”

  Paula looked back the way they’d come, as if making sure no one came upon them and disturbed their conversation. “The tribes are powerful. They stay out of overt politics. They’re still sovereign, which means they don’t really have a say in our world. But the reservations are wilded, and more successfully than anything the NGOs have done.”

  “I’d like to see that.” She stared at the brilliantly falling white water, trying to imagine the river slow and placid here, to picture how strong a dam it would take to cover up such powerful falls.

  Aspen was beside her, leashed because of the sheer cliffs, and clearly wishing he wasn’t. He pulled at the leash. His nose twitched in the wind, looking for all the world like he wanted to ride a drone or wear a flying cape and sail down to the river.

  Coryn spotted a stone bench that looked like it might offer an even better view of the falls. She took Aspen there, sitting with him on one side, keeping a hand on his collar. Paula sat down on her other side, her legs folded up against her chest and her arms wrapped around them. She must have felt pretty safe, since she usually stood. Or else she was really hoping for a conversation with Coryn. That was fine—Coryn could indulge her. “Paula?”

  “Yes.”

  “If there’s fighting, will you save Aspen?”

  “You will be my first priority.”

  She couldn’t identify why that irritated her so, but it did. “I’m giving you different directions. Save me too if you can, but save Aspen first.” As if he knew she was talking about him, Aspen leaned up and licked her cheek.

  Paula’s face had gone deadpan, a sign she hated Coryn’s orders. “What do you want me to do with him if you die?”

  “Keep him.”

  “I can’t.”

  Rules. “I bet you can out here. Make sure he’s safe. I feel like that’s up to me, and thus up to you.”

  Paula stared at the water, still in ways that robots could choose stillness. “It’s not safe for the dog to take him into battle.”

  That stung. “What else can I do with him?”

  For all that Paula’s posture was relaxed, the tone she chose was not. She sounded wary. “We could all do something else.”

  Coryn laughed. “Don’t tempt me.”

  “You found Lou. That’s what you came here for. But Lou’s up to no good. Being here isn’t safe.”

  Coryn had thought the same thing a few times over the last few days. Still, she clamped down before she could accidentally agree. They weren’t leaving Lou. It was the robot talking—always when Paula became impossible to understand it was the robot in her. And only at times like this did Coryn remember she didn’t really have a human side. Her job was to keep Coryn safe, and Coryn needed her to switch loyalties. She let out a long sigh. “You have a directive about safety. Keeping me safe.” A family walked by the falls on the other side, tiny from this distance. No threat, but their presence made the river feel more domestic. “And we know the city’s not safe.”

  “Safer than here,” Paula interrupted.

  “And Outside isn’t safe. And being here isn’t safe. Maybe nothing is safe until the unrest gets figured out, until we stop fighting because we fix our problems and don’t have to fight anymore. Maybe I’ll be safe when the city gives up more to help the wilding.”

  She was on a roll now, seeing it in her mind. How it might be if everyone had the resources they needed. Chubby children played outside and rode on ecobots. “Maybe Lou is right, and we can succeed. The cities can go on and evolve and people can come and go, and no one needs to be hungry for anything. We can craft peace. That will be better than running around to find the safest place out of a lot of pl
aces that aren’t safe.”

  Paula just stared at her.

  “It could work.” The brief spark of hope she’d felt flickered, draining out.

  Paula still looked at her. “Didn’t you study history?”

  Coryn frowned, suddenly empty instead of hopeful. “Just keep Aspen safe if anything happens to me. If you have to choose between me and Aspen, pick him. He’s innocent.”

  Paula hesitated, her “I’m calculating” hesitation, her expression briefly flat. She chose her serious voice. “This isn’t a way of committing suicide, is it?”

  That stunned Coryn. “I’m not my mother!”

  “Have you lost some of your sanity out here?”

  “Uppity robot.” She said it lightly, but it gave her pause. “Mom was too depressed to care about me and Lou. I don’t think she cared about herself either. And dad followed her. I’m not depressed, and I care greatly about Lou and Aspen. And you.” She put a hand on Paula’s shoulder and leaned in. “Promise? It’s not about me dying, it’s about me protecting someone I love. I’ll take care of myself, and I need to you take care of Aspen. That’s an order.” Even if she wasn’t doing it “right,” a direct order was supposed to work with the robot. She was an adult now, and Paula could only refuse orders that put Paula in danger or violated laws.

  Paula nodded. A jerky nod, but a nod nonetheless.

  Coryn shivered. She looked down at the soft top of Aspen’s white head and his small brown nose, and a surge of protectiveness filled her chest, pushing away the unease about changing how she treated Paula.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Lou led them down a long gravel driveway past a series of No Trespassing signs. Three young women, maybe even still teenagers, came forward and took their horses. Two older women and an older man led them to some picnic benches in a grove of trees. There, they quietly handed each of them weapons, and plied them with water, dried apples, and cranberry-flavored energy bars. The whole exchange was almost silent and only took about twenty minutes. The man drove them back down the driveway in the back of a big truck. In thirty minutes, they were back on the road, on foot.

  Coryn felt the weight and heft of the stunner in her right pocket and the thin lethality of the knife in her back pocket acutely. These were new things, and far more foreign than a new pair of AR glasses. They made her a new person, forced her to look around more, to stay aware of her surroundings, to walk carefully.

  Aspen trotted at her feet, looking pleased to be rid of the horses.

  The river ran wide and slow here, and the cliffs had moderated their steep attitudes, although the land still sloped up to their right, covered in small trees. Obviously, this area had been deeply scarred by the post-taking fires.

  Matchiko had made the promised update to her wristlet and now that she wasn’t on horseback and carrying a dog, she could play with it. She had access to a few of the basic news channels she was used to, although she didn’t want to distract herself just yet. She had contact information numbers for everyone in her party, including Paula. She tried that, and after a few moments Paula said, “Yes?”

  “Just seeing how this worked.”

  “It works fine. Watch the road.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  “I know.” They started up a long, moderately steep hill. They had to be getting close, but she couldn’t see anything over the top of the hill.

  “So will you tell me what’s in the news?”

  “Of course.” Yet Paula hesitated for so long that Coryn was about to say something snarky. She looked serious. “All the gates into and out of Portland are under attack from ecobots. They haven’t taken down the roads or hyperloop between Seacouver and Portland, nor has either city closed them.”

  “So they’re not that worried?”

  Paula shrugged. “The city is starting to fight back, and a few ecobots have been destroyed, but not many.”

  “How do they destroy ecobots?”

  “With other robots.”

  Oh. “Like a robot fight?”

  Paula hesitated. “Yes. But that’s not happening at Camas, which is a small gate.”

  “Are people being hurt?”

  “I don’t think so. If so, it’s not really making the news. My bet is the ecobots’ hack isn’t allowing them to hurt people. So far people aren’t panicking, and the news isn’t the lead story, although it’s creeping up. People Inside are getting curious and shares and retellings are increasing.”

  “Is Seacouver being attacked?”

  “Not so far.”

  That was careful language. Still, she felt relief. “Do you expect it to be?”

  “I don’t know.”

  A command from Lou flashed across her wrist. Be quiet. We’re almost there.

  Coryn glanced at Paula and mouthed, “Anything else I need to know?”

  Paula still looked like a study in solemnity. “Nothing is what it seems.”

  She hesitated before whispering, “I know.” Coryn sped up so that she rounded the next corner just a little behind her sister. The walls of ridge on their right flattened out considerably, and the river ran placid and golden in the setting sun.

  The low angle of the sun forced Coryn to shield her eyes as they came near the gate. Unlike the simple gate she had left Seacouver through, an actual wall went from the edge of the river some ways inland. The gate itself had a big artsy sign proclaiming it the CAMAS GATE and two large metal doors with thick vertical bars and fancy scrollwork tops. Open, the gate dwarfed the two ecobots that stood on each side like sentries. They didn’t appear to be letting anyone in or out, and no one seemed to be trying to attack them.

  She recognized the dome as a slight shimmer in the air, a faint bend of the sun’s rays.

  Nothing looked like a fight about to happen.

  Lou smiled, stepped close to Coryn, and pantomimed turning off any electronics. She sounded theatrical, like she was confiding a secret. “So the city thinks we’re here to attack the ecobots. The Foundation thinks we’re here to attack the city.”

  “Everyone in the Foundation?”

  Lou raised an eyebrow. “You have been thinking, haven’t you?”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Let’s go surprise a few people.”

  Coryn considered Paula’s advice, but it was too late to turn back. Clearly she was just going to have to trust Lou and Lou’s friends and hope that it all came out all right. Not that there was any reason for her to think it might be all right, except maybe that the ecobots waited there, docile and quiet, and the gates stood open.

  As they neared the Camas Gate, Coryn felt small. She probably would have felt small even if they were still on horseback. The gates were that tall and thick.

  Lou walked in front, Matchiko behind her, Blessing and Day side by side behind Matchiko, the difference in height again obvious as they walked instead of rode. Coryn followed them, with Paula right beside her carrying Aspen. Although no automated sensor system in the word would fail to identify Paula correctly, her scarf covered her face and with the squirming dog in her arms she looked as human as Coryn had ever seen her. Shuska kept the rear, as always.

  Aspen shouldn’t be here, but there was nowhere else for him to be. The same could be said of her. Two of kind. Rescued interlopers. Lou was walking into the city on a mission, but Coryn was merely following Lou. So far. Maybe with time she’d come to hate the city, but as it was, she’d been swept into a river of dangers she hadn’t chosen.

  It didn’t matter.

  She was here. She had Lou, and somehow she would turn Lou back into family. Whatever she was now, commander or revolutionary, it wasn’t Lou’s whole life.

  Coryn just had very bad timing.

  For now, she inhabited a surreal and strange moment she’d never imagined, when she and her dog followed her long-lost sister, when she carried a stunner and a knife and wore combat boots.

  She felt as if she’d walked into a movie and couldn’t tell if it was an a
dventure movie or a horror movie or a family drama.

  A small army of drones perched on top of each ecobot, ready to fly toward any enemy. She caught brilliantly illuminated flashes of light on the bridges of Portland as the sun prepared to fall into the river. Closer in, the thin edges of the ecobots’ drones looked like golden knives.

  She half expected the drones to rise up and block their way. They didn’t. The ecobots—and the drones—might as well have been statues. They stood still and silent as the small party approached. If it weren’t for cameras on one of the bots’ heads turning a slight bit to watch them, she would have thought the ecobots were dead. But the one did watch.

  Paula put Aspen down and he trotted over to Coryn, staying close to her right foot.

  Coryn couldn’t see the dome, but she imagined she felt it. The temperature warmed ever so slightly and the air smelled staler. The road under their feet shifted from the rough gravelly Outside surface to a hard ribbon of reflective road filled with solar sensors and pale lighting. No birds sang. The wind stayed still. Coryn heard her own footsteps and the footsteps of the others with her and Aspen’s small footsteps.

  They walked between the huge ecobots, which felt heavy with menace. She reached out and touched one, expected a reaction. She got nothing. She touched another one. Only metal, and a little grease on her fingertips.

  Her wristlet buzzed as they crossed over the midpoint of the gate, and a message scrolled along the bottom of it. “Welcome to the Portland Metroplex. You have been granted free entry in order to perform a service. You have a three-day visa.”

  Well, here she was, back in a city. Not home. But already it felt familiar and frightening all once, full of stimulation. News-bots flocked down from above them, coming in for close ups.