Aquifer

by Jonathan Friesen

  Mine. My insides wilt. Thus far, there has always been Seward. Through every danger, every decision. At the same time his words don’t surprise me. He’s the unpredictable one. Father, the steady; Seward, the wild.

  “Okay.” I try hard to sound brave, but my voice cracks. “Find us someplace solitary.”

  “Thank you, mate.” Seward stares off, then spins the wheel and shouts.

  Another craft rams into the shrimper, and Talya leaps up from below. “What did we hit?”

  She joins us at the edge of the boat, and we peer into the darkness. I tap Seward’s shoulder. “Risk some light, Uncle.”

  He flips the toggle and his floods illumine the sight.

  Talya steps to my side, gasps, and covers her mouth. “Why?”

  It’s a barge, though no captain stands at the helm. Motionless bodies litter the deck, forming a gruesome cargo. Yet the undone still speak, their dials whirring and spinning.

  Twenty, maybe thirty undone Amongus on their final voyage out to sea.

  Seward heaves a grappling hook over its railing and draws the barge close. “Arrows and knives, all. The mainland is lost, Luca.” He exhales hard. “I always dreamt of throwing off their cursed authority, but never in my worst nightmares did the deed end like this.”

  From the crimson deck, a groan. Soft and pained.

  “Someone’s still alive.” Talya climbs onto the rail and leaps onto the vessel.

  Seward glances at me. “Full marks for pluck and compassion. It will get her undone, but, full marks.”

  I shove him and follow Talya. Together, we move from corpse to corpse. “Who’s alive here?” I say. “Please, I need more sounds.”

  Another groan. Talya and I haul a carcass to the side, and there beneath lies an Amongus, blood oozing from his stomach wound and his eyelids fluttering.

  “What’s happened?” Talya kneels and strokes his matted hair. “What’s done this to you?”

  His hand shoots out and clasps her ankle. “Who are you?”

  I jump to her side, and the Amongus stares with wide eyes. “Luca, you’re alive? All have been told that you perished —” Coughs rack his body. “It’s a hunt, and we are prey. The world has turned.”

  “Are there more of you left alive?”

  He lifts his eyebrows. “Downtown quadrant. On the Swan. A small group still holds. All our families are there.” His muscles shiver and twitch. “It’s the same everywhere. New Pert. The Outer Territories. Queland, Vittoria. Sydney has fallen.” He pauses. “But the worst is New Pert. Rioters beam their actions to Sowt Afrika, Sowt Amerika. It’s over. Leave here, Luca. Though I know of no place to flee.”

  Talya turns to me. “We need to help them.”

  “Excuse me, lass,” Seward calls from the boat. “But consider well the ones for whom you accumulate favors. You be speakin’ about helping those whose job it is to undo. You be speakin’ of the enemy.”

  “Phale wasn’t an enemy.” She takes the Amongus’s hand. “What’s your name?”

  His gaze wanders and then focuses. “My name? My name … It’s Connyr.”

  “And do you have family, Connyr?”

  He nods. “Aye. A wife and two daughters. Barricaded in the quadrant.”

  “Luca will get them out.” Talya rests her hand on his heart. “You have my word.”

  I cough hard, and Seward throws up his hands. “Ah, yes, we will waltz in and lead out a triumphant procession of the accursed —”

  “Shut up, Seward,” I say. Talya looks at me with pride. I can see it — every ounce of her believes I will rescue Connyr’s family.

  Such confidence from a girl is most disconcerting.

  I push my hand through my hair. “How do we get to them?”

  “Through the Swan River. Streets are overrun. But you will not reach the inlet. You can’t.”

  Talya cups Connyr’s cheek in her hands. “Rest now. Luca will deliver your family.”

  Who is this young lady I brought up from inside the earth? Seward is right: I know nothing of her, except she is the bravest girl I know. That, and when I am with her I feel brave as well.

  “We’ll get them out,” I whisper, hoping Seward doesn’t hear.

  “I don’t blame the people,” Connyr rasps. “Not after the things I’ve done …”

  Connyr is no more.

  I stand. “Uncle, we have to go toward the museum. Wren told me it was important to visit it again, and with the fear the building creates inside people, it would also be the Amongus’s last holdout. While I’m there, I need to greet Phale’s wife if she lives, and bring Connyr’s family to safety. I need a boat to do all these things, and I need a crazy pirate to captain it. Basically, I need you. After you help me, I’ll ask you for no more favors. You may disappear from my life if you want.”

  “There will be no after,” he says dryly. “We’ll all perish in the attempt.”

  I climb back into his boat and help Talya over the rail. “What would you do if you could see your brother again?”

  My uncle raises his hand. “I’m not fallin’ for this manipulation.”

  “What would you tell him?” I ask.

  Seward glances warily at me. “I’d say, ‘Not a day passes without me bein’ proud. Not a day passes without me feelin’ regret.’ And I’d tell him he raised a son who puts me to shame … Blast it, Luca. Find one of the scum about my size. If we’re going to do this, I’ll need to look the part.”

  I pull the red uniform off the nearest man and locate an intact dial. “Here you go. I bet you always wanted one of these.”

  Moments later, Seward, every bit the Amongus, churns the boat toward the mouth of the Swan. My mind focuses. For the first time I have my own hopes, my own dreams. And I think I love Talya.

  What a time for my world to end.

  But the thought of Father still buoys me. I haven’t seen him for months, but every moment I feel it more strongly — he’s still the center of everything. What will I say when I see his face?

  Not a day passes without me being proud. Not a day passes without me feeling regret. And I love you.

  CHAPTER

  30

  Seward idles the engine at the mouth to the Swan.

  “Can you keep this lumbering jug of a boat in the center of the river?” Seward pulls me toward him. “If the shoreline be held by looters, then perhaps an Amongus like me running the shoot is a dangerous proposition.”

  Seward sits low in the hull, and I move to take the wheel. “Anything I need to know?”

  “Go fast, mate. Go fast. And do not stop. When you reach the inlet, I’ll take over, and you two become my children. If the Fates favor, we’ll be allowed into the safe zone Connyr spoke of. If it remains.” He winces. “But we’ll never get in with your hair … Talya, search below deck for some hats or hoods.”

  We race toward the river, gaining speed and volume. Its mouth is not hard to find. Bonfires fueled by the keels of ships rage on either side, and kids stand, arrows in hand, waving us nearer.

  Friend or foe? Friend or foe?

  Seward covers himself in a blanket. “Just don’t stop.”

  I reach the mouth and wave. From the left bank, a cautious wave back. I fly through the channel and peek over my shoulder at the boy who returned my gesture.

  Lendi!

  I slow and turn the wheel. Seward’s hand reaches up and yanks the boat straight. “What’s controlled you, lad? This is no time for delay.”

  Shuff.

  An arrow pierces the bulkhead and I duck, throttle to full. Shuff. Another lodges in the seat behind me.

  “Stay below, Talya!”

  I drop to my knees and we churn forward. From the shore, I hear voices. “He shot the gap! To the boats!” A firing of distant engines, and soon I’m pursued.

  “Going below, mate. You best not be seen with an Amongus right now.” Seward crawls toward the steps and tumbles into the hold. A moment later, he pokes up his head. “Just don’t stop.”

  I gr
ab Seward’s hooded windcoat and throw it over my shoulders.

  Words. I need the words to speak.

  My pursuer’s speedboats make short work of my head start, and they quickly pull alongside both on the left and right.

  “Ease, mate,” a boy shouts. “It’s only the water we want.”

  “Then why shoot at me?”

  “Because it’s a quicker way to the goal than to spend all this time gabbin’.”

  I do not slow. I stare straight ahead and feel their gazes.

  “A different look about this one, eh, Jerome? A sympathizer for sure.”

  My mind whirs. “Been shrimping for a month off the eastern coast. What’s happened here? Aren’t you concerned about an undoing?”

  Jerome sneers. “By whom? The Amongus are the ones undone in New Pert.” A cheer goes up. “We live for today. And tomorrow. Not many tomorrows left, you know. Here, at the end of all things, the Amongus and soon the PM will feel what we have felt all our lives … the only feeling granted us. Fear!”

  Shouts of support rise from his mates; I glance into the boat and quickly face forward.

  Do I reveal who I am? Would that give them hope?

  “Is it like this everywhere?” I ask.

  “To be sure, and worse. Rallies are held each evening at the amphitheater. The sectors have fallen. The Council is silent, the Amongus isolated and controlled, except for the fortunate few airlifted from downtown by those accursed kopters.” Jerome pauses. “But enough. You seem a likable bloke. Give up your water casks and we’ll let you on your way, though I don’t recommend the way you’re heading.”

  “I have none.”

  He scoffs. “That was not the correct answer. Lendi, ready your bow!”

  My thoughts spin. I need help. I need it now!

  “Tell me,” I blurt. “Has Glaugood fallen?”

  “There is nothing to be gained in that refuge for the weak.”

  I wipe my brow. “But have you checked the caves? There may be a stash. An ancient hoard. Especially in a lower cave, untouched by the sea. What’s found might be enough to send your best mate into a year-long wrinkle.”

  A cry from the rear of the boat. Lendi presses forward. “P — p-perhaps we let this one by. Just this one. He’s one man, and the water he would possess after a month away means hardly a swallow for each of us.”

  I would embrace my friend if I could, no matter what the outcome might be. Lendi reaches out his hand and strokes the shrimper’s hull, then turns toward his companions, his voice strengthening. “So much blood already tonight.”

  A calm surrounds us. “Lendi, I don’t know what’s filled you,” says Jerome, “but you’ve filled my barrel many times over this evening. Stay your hand.”

  Lendi clears his throat. He will not look at me, but I feel his shame.

  “How far do you intend to keep this course?” Lendi speaks, his voice tender.

  My voice breaks. “Until I find a welcome.”

  “If … if you carry on to the inlet, know that the north side — the downtown — remains in Amongus hands. There, I don’t think you’ll receive this kindness. Maybe … maybe you could turn aside now. There are places to rest, safe places I could show you …”

  “You speak as though you’ve stumbled on your kin. The fool’s choices are his own. Death soon or death now. His choice to make. To shore!” Jerome shoves Lendi toward the aft of the boat, and the flotilla peels away from the shrimper. I risk one last look at my mate. He stands statued, his face buried in his hands. They lower toward me, cup and raise. I return the gesture.

  “Thank you, mate,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

  Seward crawls up on deck, with Talya close behind.

  “Quick thinkin’, lad.”

  Talya whacks Seward hard on the shoulder. “I knew he could lead us. When will you stop doubting him?”

  “I just …” He massages his arm. “It seemed a might tough scrape, is all.”

  But their compliments don’t take hold. Lendi. Blood? My childhood friend. It’s only been days since I’ve seen him. Since he was compliant, obedient. My best friend is corrupted by freedom, like the entire surface world. He has become a victim of himself.

  I need to reach that museum.

  We motor on, and though shouts echo from each shore, no boats venture out to meet us and the water is strangely quiet. Ships have always been hard to come by in New Pert, but those with means spent their evenings on the Swan. Wrinkles were harder to detect, which made the waterway ideal for unauthorized trading and unregistered meetings. But tonight we own the river.

  The Swan widens and the current slows. I breathe deep. The inlet. Seward rises and takes the wheel. I stand by Talya and stare to the south where fires rage, but to the north all is still.

  “We go north, children. Luca, your name is Radney.” Seward folds his arms. “Do you like that name?”

  “It’s a strong name.”

  Seward looks away, and when he turns back he is not the same. “It was the name of my son.”

  My mouth hangs, waiting. Waiting for an explanation, for a story.

  You had a son?

  “Close your yammer.” His face twitches. “You’ll get no satisfaction from me on the issue.” Moments pass, and his voice falls, his tone mocks. “Lass, you speak so well of Phale. You jump so quickly to Connyr’s aid.” He swallows. “But no father should have to pull his own son up from the depths.”

  My eyes widen. I want to know what happened, but he says no more.

  His silence speaks; that’s all for now.

  CHAPTER

  31

  Searchlights from the north crisscross the water, stealing my sight. I shield my eyes as my vision becomes one big sunspot, and wait. Another boat has joined ours.

  “Who’s with you?” The voice from the other craft is gruff, nervous.

  “Just my two children. I’ve been gone a week between sleeper assignments. I was to report to New Pert before a stint in Sydney.” Seward rips the arrow’s shaft from the seat. “Why was I fired upon?”

  “The world is backward. The arrow came from the rebellion. You are fortunate — I’ve not seen a boat survive the river route for some time.” I squint into the light, and he continues. “Yet it is fortunate that you did not first report to Sydney. That city has fallen.” He looks us over once more. “Follow me.”

  Our escort doesn’t wait for our answer, but powers quickly toward the downtown district. We follow, easing up to the remains of the Great Swan Pier. As children Lendi and I splashed around its support beams. As teens we secretly discussed our desired matches, though jumpy Lendi never did feel comfortable with the issue.

  I tie up the boat and, together with Talya, Seward, and our escort, run onto shore.

  Wire, coiled and barbed, stretches far in either direction. Three rows of clumsily built fencing rise, each one higher than the one fronting it. Behind those twisted lines stands a ten-foot, hole-riddled cinder block wall.

  “We hemmed ourselves in. About a three-mile diameter of the city is all we control. You cannot remain outside.” He whistles. From above the wall, three heads appear, vanish, and then reappear hoisting a wooden ramp. They toss a rope secured to one end of the span over the fences and our escort pulls it taut. Slowly backing up, he and Seward draw the length of the ramp down onto the beach.

  “Hurry. Hurry!” our escort urges, though I see no danger where we stand. With the ramp in place, he scampers up and over the wall; Seward follows, and then Talya.

  I take one last look around the inlet. Distant shouts fill the night.

  “What have we become?”

  Nothing that can’t be restored. The voice pounds in my head.

  “Well” — I shake my head — “you can speak, but you sure can’t hear. New Pert falls apart.”

  I step from sand to wood, and the world explodes in heat and light. The earth drops away; am I falling or flying? It feels like a journey through the stratus, except that pain rips my body. And t
hen suddenly it doesn’t, and I feel nothing. Moments pass, silent moments when the ring in my ears eclipses all other sounds. I’m lost in a vacuum, and the world spins, though I’m quite certain I’m on my stomach. I force open my eyes and roll, peering through dust and flames.

  The ramp is no more.

  “Lu — Radney!” Faintly, my name finds me. “Are you there, boy?”

  I can’t see Seward, and my head feels light. Angry voices approach. When I call on my legs to move, they don’t respond. Talya! Was she over the wall? I claw forward, feel strong hands on my back, and remember no more.

  My eyelids open lazily. I lie on my back, this much I know. I wriggle my fingers, my toes. I still own them.

  It is dark, the world shrouded in shadow. The scent of burning wood surrounds me and smoke wafts over me. Wherever this place is, it burns.

  Then the smoke clears and my vision sharpens. Twenty feet away I see a crackling fire, its light dancing on the ceiling. Shadows huddle around it, shoulder to shoulder, offering their fingers for warmth. I count twenty bodies, speaking in soft tones punctuated by occasional laughter.

  A chill racks me, and I draw a sharp breath. A shadow breaks from their ring, rises and approaches, kneeling down beside me. “Luca. How are you?”

  “Cold.”

  “To be sure. Belzar? More heat for our guest.” Another shape leaves the fire ring, and soon arrives with blankets; I feel the weight of the wool, nestle beneath its warmth. Before I can offer a thank you, the giver’s shadow resumes its place by the fire.

  “Don’t try to talk.” The man’s accent is thick, like none I’ve heard before. “The explosive landed near, though likely it was intended for the wall and not for you. Terrance removed metal fragments from your leg but they were not deep. You should mend well.”

  Metal? I lift my covers. Dried blood darkens the loose-fitting browns I received from the rats.

  “Are you … are you part of the rebellion?”

  “You aren’t going to rest, are you? Very well.” His strong arms pull me and my covers to a sit, gently lean me back against iron bars. “Your question. Are we part of the rebellion … Hmm. I suppose too far from the mark. Please, call me Akov.”