Wilders

by Brenda Cooper

  She bounced on her feet as the canoe pulled close. The two-seater canoe had deep scratches in its red paint and looked like it might decide to sink any day. Lou sat in the front and Julianna in the back.

  Coryn bent down to help them come alongside the open part of the dock. “Now what?” she teased. “I see we’ve been in bikes and buses and boats today, and airplanes before that. Did you hide some working hoverboards in there?”

  Julianna grinned. “Feet. We don’t have far to go. But first, we stop for fifteen minutes. We’ve been paddling from the north end of the lake. We need a break.”

  “Is this your house?”

  “It’s a friend’s. I know where the key is. She’s moved into old folks’ care.”

  Lou looked happy, maybe even a little triumphant. Coryn offered a hand to help her out of the canoe, pleased when she managed not to drop her in the water.

  Julianna levered herself easily out onto the dock. She wore a small backpack, which she kept slung over her back. “Help me with the boat.” Together, they awkwardly tugged the canoe out of the water and turned it upside down on the dock, dripping, stowing the paddles under it.

  Julianna extracted a key fob from a rock that looked so much like all of the other rocks in the garden Coryn would never had picked it out. She let them into the house and Coryn stopped in the foyer and stared. Wood, glass, and stone filled the house. Light poured in through long, thin skylights, making artful stripes on the gleaming stone floor.

  “Come help me,” Julianna called, as she rummaged through rich, real wood cupboards for reusable water bottles. She found about a dozen, and Coryn and Lou helped Julianna fill them. “That’s more than we need,” Coryn said.

  “Yes, but someone else may need them.”

  “Do other people in the city know about this? The water?”

  Julianna pursed her lips tight, frowning down at the half-filled bottle she held to the tap. “The warnings only just went out. I have no idea what the Public Information people are thinking. This should have been broadcast as soon as the threat came through.”

  “Did you learn who is doing this?”

  “Drink.” She handed Coryn a bottle of water. “Follow me.” She led them back out to sit on the dock. Coryn lowered herself to the cool, slightly damp surface beside Lou, wondering what else they could be doing. Sitting here surely wasn’t going to help anything. She couldn’t keep from swinging her feet in short, restless kicks.

  Julianna settled to the dock with practiced grace. “I learned a long time ago that when you’re in the middle of a maelstrom, you take a few moments to yourself and get centered. You check your assumptions. And then you do what I’ve been teaching Day and Blessing and everyone else I’ve hired in the last fifty years to do: you give it up. You accept that all you can do is your best, and you might win or you might not. You might live or you might die. And then you go right on fighting for whatever you need to fight for, only you’ve got a cleaner heart to fight with.” She took a long drink of water and stared out over the lake.

  Lou watched Julianna closely, with what looked a bit like hero worship on her face. Curiosity, at the very least.

  After what seemed like entirely too much time, Julianna nodded westward. “That’s where we need to go. To Seattle.”

  Coryn straightened, ready to go. “So you found the people who are funding this?”

  Julianna glanced at Lou. “Tell her what we found. You helped.” She pulled her pack around and opened it.

  Lou looked surprised at the request. She took a deep breath and sat up a little straighter. “We found more than one thing. There are two heads of foundations—one is ours, the Lucken Foundation—who are skimming large amounts of money. Enough that we would have had twice as much if they hadn’t stolen it.” Anger leaked out through her words, and they grew more precise and sharp-edged. “We could have saved a few friends of mine, and maybe at least half the wolf packs. We could have had some security.” Her face tightened with anger and pride; a trace of the energy she’d left the city with flickered in her eyes. “I can’t tell you how many horses and wolves and buffalo they killed by stealing that money. They’re sending it back and forth between here and Portland, and each is reporting that it’s being used in ways it’s not. Because the two cities have separate tax accounting systems, and the cities are too afraid of each other to share. They’ve been getting away with it for years.”

  Julianna picked up the narrative. “We’ve identified the people whose banks and companies seem to be absorbing the money. The accountant I worked with thought it might take years, but we managed to get it done pretty fast.” The end of her mouth curled up in a very slight smile. “I have a few crack data people.”

  “You found this in a few hours?”

  “Some of the background information was in datasets we’ve been watching for years. It doesn’t take long to find things once you know where to look. Lou gave us a few threads to pull.” Julianna handed Coryn an energy gel and a handful of nuts. “Eat these. You’re going to need protein.”

  Coryn shoved the food in her mouth without tasting it, while Lou elaborated. “I came in at the end. I didn’t help much at all. Only for a few hours, figuring out what we should say about what Wilders need and why. I gave them specifics.”

  “So we’re going after these people? Does that have anything to do with the hackers? Did these people pay the hackers?”

  Julianna’s smile looked quite placid. “There’s more. We’ve found some bankers who handle the money who have skimmed some of it. I knew that was going on, and I already had people looking into it. But I didn’t consider it urgent until you showed up. I’ve been thinking about the wrong things.”

  “I still don’t see the connection to losing water. Pablo told us he thinks the Returners paid Bartholomew more than the foundations.”

  Lou narrowed her eyes. “So they double-crossed us?”

  “They used you to get the compromised ecobots into the city peacefully.”

  Lou finished a long drink of water. “I heard Paula shot a policeman.”

  Coryn’s stomach tightened. “She was keeping us from getting arrested. But that’s not the issue. The attacks that happened while we were rescuing you were violent.”

  “They killed at least a hundred and seventy-five people in Portland,” Julianna said. “There’s still some fighting, and they’re still finding people. There were fifteen deaths here. Seacouver’s a little more sophisticated than Portland. And the geography is different.”

  “Don’t we need to go?” Lou asked.

  “You never stop corruption. You daylight it, and you slow it down, over and over and over.” Julianna stretched her legs out in front of her and bounced them on the dock. “You can’t be a superhero forever. When you get tired, someone takes your place. I wouldn’t be doing this if you hadn’t run with me.”

  Coryn could still feel the time ticking along. “So what can we do?”

  “We can sit still, right now, right here, and take a long deep breath. Make a circle.” She held out her hands, palms upward, in a gesture as commanding as it was inviting.

  Julianna’s hand felt dry in Coryn’s. Lou’s was supple and damper and stronger. Coryn squeezed it on impulse and felt a quick return squeeze.

  “Close your eyes,” ordered Julianna.

  Coryn wanted to get up and race to Seattle and do something, but she obediently closed her eyes. There was, after all, nothing else to do. Julianna was the one with a plan.

  Julianna’s voice captured, commanded. “Take a deep breath.”

  She did.

  “Deeper. Breathe deeper into your belly. Breathe all the way down and feel your belly expand until it’s full of breath, and then feel it expand even more.” She fell silent for a beat or two. “Now let your breath out slowly.”

  Coryn took three breaths before she felt full on the last one. And far calmer. A soft breeze she hadn’t noticed before caressed her face.

  Julianna spoke softly. “No
w focus. We are determined to achieve our goals with grace and beauty. We are determined to be protectors of the land and of the city, and all of humanity depends on both.”

  Coryn tried to repeat what Julianna had said silently. She came close.

  “Three more breaths. Think about being fierce protectors of the wild and the human.”

  Three more breaths. Coryn counted. I am a fierce protector of the wild and the human. I am determined to achieve our goals with grace and beauty. I am a fierce protector . . .

  Julianna used a quietly compelling tone that Coryn had no resistance to. “And now, take a last deep breath, and, on the exhale, let go of any determination to succeed, of any attachment to success. It simply doesn’t matter.”

  Coryn felt the last breath leave slowly; in its place flowed a sense of ease, of lightness, as if she’d shed a burden she hadn’t realized she was carrying. Unburdened, and yet . . . deeply connected to both her sister and to Julianna.

  “You may open your eyes.”

  Lou’s voice came out a little husky. “Was that a prayer?”

  Julianna smiled. “It’s a yoga technique. If there was a God, she would have stopped us from killing everything she made years ago.” She stood up and brushed dirt from her legs. She reached into her pack one more time and brought out a pair of bright fuchsia running pants and a pair of shoes like the ones she’d printed for Coryn in Portland. “Time for deadlines. Change into these. We leave in one minute.” She handed Lou a pair of bike shorts. “And you, put these on.”

  “Where are we going?” Coryn asked, hoping that this time she’d get an answer.

  “To shine a light. That’s what you do with corruption. You light it up. You two are going to help me talk to the city.”

  “What about the hackers?”

  Julianna shook her head, as if dismissing the questions. “I delegated that. Day will get it done. Or not. It’s no longer ours to worry over.”

  At least there was a plan. Now to get . . . wherever they were going.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  “Explain to me again why you think a bicycle is easier to ride than a horse?” Lou asked through gritted teeth, pushing the bicycle up a rise on the 520. Julianna and Coryn were, for the moment, walking beside her.

  Coryn smiled sweetly. “You have to ride a while to build your quads.”

  “I haven’t ridden a bicycle since before Mom and Dad died.”

  Julianna looked back from a few feet ahead of them. “I could leave you two here to wait for me. I want your help, but I can do this alone.”

  Lou put her head down and dug into walking faster. Good.

  In just a few moments they were at the top of the rise, and, as Lou climbed back onto the bike, Coryn whispered, “Downhill is definitely easier. If you start to wobble, use your brakes.”

  “I’ll beat you.” Lou took off. The bridge was full of empty cars on the long flat section, but the steep part right below them was empty. Lou quickly picked up speed, becoming a bright streak falling quickly down the sunlit bridge in front of them. Julianna and Coryn raced after her. They faced a bright late-afternoon sun, and Coryn had to keep her eyes down to keep from looking directly at it. In spite of the inconvenience of the glare, it felt oddly freeing to be almost the only people on a bridge that was usually choked with transportation of all types.

  Coryn’s breath rasped in her throat by the time they caught up to Lou near the top of the far rise into the University District. As they flanked her on either side, Julianna panted, “Get off at the next exit and head for the Arboretum.”

  “What’s at the Arboretum?” Coryn asked.

  “Tunnels.”

  Lou looked confused, but Coryn laughed. “You’ll see.”

  The Arboretum was jammed with people. Most of them were calm, although the tone and tenor of some of the voices they heard sounded either panicky or angry. In the distance, someone screamed at someone else in anger.

  When they came up beside a small shed near a water reservoir, Julianna said, “Leave the bike.”

  “Here?”

  “Someone can use it.”

  Lou’s eyes widened, but she obeyed, leaning it against a tree.

  The shed held the entrance to a well-lit and compact tunnel. The stone floor was uneven in places, but the ceiling had a string of lights in it and a few red emergency buttons as well. In the short distance between the Arboretum and downtown, they took three turns and passed many other people. Julianna stopped and talked to an elderly Asian man for five long minutes, her voice low.

  Just before they turned under the Convention Center, about fifteen people sped up as soon as they spotted Julianna. They clapped her on the back and touched her hands, her shoulders, and one tall woman leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

  Julianna barely even slowed down. The small crowd quickly formed a flying oval around all three of them. Even though the crowd carried them forward, it largely ignored Coryn and Lou as everyone focused on Julianna, talking over one another in their hurry to get information to and from her.

  Coryn pulled Lou to the back and spoke quietly. “I’m sorry the revolution didn’t work out like you thought.”

  Lou smiled a trifle sheepishly. “I’ve learned a lot on this trip.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I should do a better job of keeping in touch with my little sister.”

  “That was a surprise?”

  Lou looked down, then lifted her head and met Coryn’s eyes squarely. “It was selfish to leave.”

  “You said you had to go.”

  Lou brushed her hair out of her face, hesitating before answering. “I might have killed myself if I stayed here.”

  “But you won’t do that now?”

  “Of course not. The buffalo need me.”

  Coryn laughed. “Maybe that’s what wrong with the city. It doesn’t need people. At least not specific ones. I wonder if it would run with only robots?”

  Lou laughed. “Probably only for a while. The city may not need people, but the robots do. They still break.” She grew quiet and then turned a more serious face to Coryn. “I’m going back out, you know.”

  “Of course you are. The buffalo need you.”

  “Don’t be flip.”

  “I learned a lot over the last few years, too.”

  Lou glanced toward Julianna. “I guess you did. And you’re better at making friends than I thought you would be.”

  “You mean I made a good friend? I think that was sheer luck, or else the city just knew I needed something more than Paula.”

  “So the city doesn’t need individuals but it helps them? Even small and low-value people like us?”

  Coryn laughed, this time a little bit at herself. There was no way to tell if the city and its myriad systems wanted anything at all. It felt so good to be home, to be back with Julianna, to have Lou beside her. She let her voice get campy, like Blessing often did. “The city is a strange and mysterious being, many-headed—”

  “Are you going back out with me?” Lou interrupted.

  That was the crux of the problem. She’d found Lou, and she and Lou had learned a lot about each other, and maybe forgiven each other. But that didn’t mean Coryn knew what she wanted. There was Blessing. There was the beauty of Outside, the way the horizons and the wildflowers and the rivers had reduced her to dumbstruck awe. In contrast, Seacouver had soaring skyways, fabulous entertainment, and it had Julianna.

  Julianna led them out of the tunnels and into the former parking garage for Seattle City Hall, which had been changed over to cheap hosteling for basic-basic students and older people. Coryn had stayed here once in the summer between junior and senior year, although just overnight. It didn’t look like it had gotten any better.

  It took two elevators to get to the top floor, which had been redesigned as a news location long ago. By Julianna, if the dedication plaque on the outside was right. So they were going to talk to people?

  Outside, lights brightened aga
inst the dusk.

  They were led into a dressing studio, where people handed all three of them into two minute showers, shoved clothes at them, then styled their hair and brushed on makeup. Such a thing had never happened to Coryn, and she found it a little frightening and a lot strange. Her dresser’s name was Susan, a nervous, chatty woman with strong hands and short dark hair.

  Somehow they were utterly transformed in under twenty minutes.

  When Coryn looked in the mirror Susan held for her, she found her hair in long, red curls. She looked far older than she expected. Her face had been covered with thick makeup to hide the sun damage and a few scratches, and her eyes had been painted so they looked darker blue than usual. She’d never seen her lashes or eyebrows so distinctly.

  Susan bit at her lip, watching Coryn’s reaction closely. All Coryn could get out was, “I barely recognize myself.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t, not really. But the small white lie seemed like a fine thing to offer. Susan looked pleased and began cleaning her things up.

  Coryn glanced over at Lou to find she had been equally transformed. Her hair had been braided on her head—very similar to the way she had often done it in high school, only this time not a single hair lay amiss.

  “Do you have any idea what Julianna’s planning?” Coryn asked.

  Lou grimaced. “I suspect it has something to do with being all over the evening news.”

  Coryn glanced down at her wristlet. A half hour left to go before the water utility deadline. “She’d better hurry.”

  Julianna came up from behind her. “I heard that. Come along. We’re doing this together.”

  “I don’t want to be on video!” Coryn protested. She hesitated a moment. “And you look . . . severe.” Julianna’s long gray hair had been cropped short and turned the slightest bit under. In truth, she looked older, and also—oddly—more familiar.

  “That’s the idea. This is my old haircut. People will remember it from when I had actual power.” She was grinning ear to ear, clearly enjoying herself.

  Coryn couldn’t even remember the name of the current mayor. It was a man, and people seemed to like him, but it wasn’t an election year. Now that she was old enough to vote, she should pay attention to such things.