by Perrin Briar
“Thank you, Sir,” Palek said with a nod. “As an aside, I would like to thank you for resisting the Undead horde who would have picked us clean if you hadn’t stepped in.”
“And thank you for seeing reason,” Quinn said. “You should know we are all in this together. Any form of uprising will not be tolerated again. Do I make myself clear?”
Palek nodded. Quinn felt a twisting sensation in the pit of his stomach. He knew it wasn’t Palek’s fault. It was his and Siren’s. But to admit that would mean to admit he was not the real Controller. He could not let that come out.
A horn blew somewhere in the distance.
“It’s the warning horn,” Siren said. “I Sense… There’s no danger.”
“It’s them,” Quinn said. “The other communities. They’re arriving now.”
Chapter Four
Quinn and Siren went up onto the roof of the keep. It overlooked the town and villages in the distance, the sea on the other side. One community had turned up, staying a safe distance from the outlying towns. From the sea, another community were arriving by boat. Another by airplane. Yet another by helicopter.
“And so it begins,” Quinn said.
Chapter Five
The next morning, Siren carried a tray of food for Quinn to enjoy a little breakfast in bed. He’d been working hard recently and wasn’t getting enough food or sleep. She might not be his mother but she would accept those duties if it meant he might actually try to take care of himself.
The entourage to take him to go see the other community leaders wouldn’t move until Quinn was ready to face the day. The guards let Siren pass with a friendly nod in her direction. Siren placed the tray on a table and headed into the chamber room. As usual, Quinn was fast asleep. Then she noticed the mud on the bottom of his boots and carpet. They led to a patch of bare wall. Odd. She shook him awake.
Quinn yawned and stretched as he awoke, his hair sticking up at odd angles.
“Where did you go last night?” Siren said.
“Last night?” Quinn said. “Nowhere. Why do you ask?”
Closely resembling the Undead made it difficult to tell if he was really tired or not, but the bags under his eyes were darker and greyer than usual. Siren picked up his boots and showed him the soles covered in thick mud.
“Want to explain this?” she said.
“I like walking,” Quinn said with a shrug. “I can’t go out alone during the day, so I go at night.”
“Where do you go?” Siren said.
“Just around,” Quinn said evasively and pulling on his pants.
“What if something happened to you?” Siren said. “What would we do then?”
“Nothing will happen to me,” Quinn said.
After a while, when you really got underneath someone’s skin, Siren really didn’t need her Compulsion ability. She usually knew what Quinn was thinking. It was like a second sense. She could read him like an open book. He had lied.
He did go somewhere, which meant there was purpose behind it. But did it really matter in the greater scheme of things? Probably not. If it was something he was working on, it would be for the good of them all. Still, she didn’t much like not knowing.
Chapter Six
Quinn hated traveling as the Controller. He sat in a large sedan chair on a specially-made device that carried him wherever he wanted to go. The streets had to be blocked off, preventing trade or anything useful from taking place.
He was surrounded by guards on every side, apparently to protect him from the people who lined up on the street to get a look at him. He was open to the world and felt awkward when he raised his hand to wave at them. He had never been so embarrassed his entire life.
Finally, outside the main hub, the streets were opened and work returned to normal. Quinn wished he was amongst them. But he had a job to do, and it wasn’t going to get done with him sitting there feeling sorry for himself.
“The leader’s name is Balder,” Siren said. “His daughter is Falcon. They are a community based in the mountains. They’re hard, tough people. Their leader, especially so. There, only the strong are said to survive. They have managed to stay alive because of their hardiness. They simply will not back down.”
“So, asking for them to accept an Undead as someone they ought to work with isn’t the best strategy in the world,” Quinn said.
“I wouldn’t bring it up during this first meeting,” Siren said. “Instead, let them see Arthur’s Port, see how well we do here. Let them wonder how we’re able to keep the Undead at bay.”
Quinn nodded.
“Smart,” he said. “Let them want to know, then later, when we tell them how we do it, they are more likely to accept it. How do we even know they exist?”
“We trade with them,” Siren said. “Via the waterways. That’s where some of our boats go. We send them food. They give us cloth, blankets, wood. I imagine they’re here as much for trade as for anything else.”
The mountain community’s encampment consisted of a dozen large animal skin tents. They had been treated but not colored, and had a patchwork brown hue to them. They flapped in the wind as Quinn’s entourage came to a stop.
A dozen large men and women stepped out from the main tent. They were wearing impressive clothing, what Quinn assumed must have been traditional wear for important ceremonies. But they did not bow or shake Quinn’s hand as he approached.
Siren was at his side, and would whisper in his ear whenever she noticed something that might prove useful to them about their hosts.
“Welcome to Arthur’s Port,” Quinn said.
The large man in the center, who had to be Balder, did not say a word nor blink an eye. He was quite a sight to see. Every fiber of his hair had been grown, long and cinched with rubber bands. He looked more like a Viking than an American. The men at his shoulders were similarly dressed and adorned.
“Please excuse my father,” Falcon said, stepping forward. “He was never much good with diplomacy.”
Quinn shook her proffered hand. It was firm, strong. In a fair match, she could beat him with her hands tied behind her back. Her body was strong and firm, tough, the way they bred them in the mountains. The fresh air clearly did a great deal of good to the spirit. Never mind to mind the body. Wow.
Siren cleared her throat, prodding Quinn to reply.
“It’s an honor and a pleasure to meet you,” he said. “All of you.”
“Please, come inside,” Falcon said, gesturing for them to enter the main tent.
Hamilton stepped forward. It was his intention to enter first to ensure it was safe and secure, but if Quinn hoped to get the trust of these people, he was going to need to give them a little too.
“It’s all right, Hamilton,” Quinn said. “I’m sure our hosts aren’t a danger to us.”
Hamilton nodded, before stepping back. Quinn entered the tent. He didn’t mind admitting he held his breath. If he was going to be impaled, it was going to happen right then and there. But he got the opportunity to exhale as he entered. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark confines of the tent. The blazing daylight left purple shadows in his vision.
He didn’t know what he had been expecting when he’d enter. Probably a tavern-style deal, with spit on the floor and brawls breaking out. Instead, it was clean and tidy, with a few servants to clean up after them or refill their cups once they were empty. There were no chairs—far too big and heavy for such a long trip as they had taken to get there—but there were plenty of cushions.
“Please, take a seat,” Falcon said.
There were no seats, but the cushions looked comfortable enough. Quinn moved toward one, when Siren touched him lightly on the shoulder. She gestured to the cushion closest to the door. In case he needed to make a quick getaway, or else his guards had to rush in to rescue him. It was a smart move, one he should have thought of himself. He sat down, and the other men waited as he did so before taking their own cushions.
It was then he reali
zed the influence Falcon had over her father and the other leaders of Rock. She was much smaller than the others, but she should not be underestimated. She was strong and lithe, replacing strength with speed. With a weapon in her hand, Quinn had no doubt she would be a real demon.
“I didn’t want to come here,” Balder said. “I had no intention of doing so, in fact. It was only at the behest of my daughter that I, and we, did.”
“He can be a stubborn old mule,” Falcon said.
“But putty in my daughter’s hands,” Balder said. “We came all this way. Now, can you please kindly tell me what it is you want from us?”
“I want nothing from you, save open ears and minds when the time comes,” Quinn said.
Balder’s eyes narrowed.
“You want me to sit here while my people are out there, struggling to survive?” he said.
“Only a few days,” Quinn said. “Stay, and look around at what we’ve achieved here, and I’ll tell you how you can do it for yourself and your people too.”
“Tell me now and be done with it,” Balder said.
“You’re not ready to hear it yet,” Quinn said.
Balder’s face turned red.
“I’ll have no one tell me what I am or am not ready to hear,” he said.
“I meant no offense,” Quinn said.
Falcon touched her father’s shoulder, calming him.
“What my father is diplomatically trying to say is, we have people who rely on us,” she said. “It’s difficult for us to leave them for so long without knowing what’s happening to them.”
“I assume you left your leadership in good hands?” Quinn said.
“We did, of course,” Falcon said.
“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Quinn said. “You maintain a strong presence of guards around your community?”
“We do,” Falcon said.
“You will not need your guards to protect you while you are here,” Quinn said.
“And why’s that?” Falcon said. “I heard you had a little trouble recently at a town called Second Chance. Why couldn’t we suffer the same fate?”
“We’re under…. new management,” Siren said. “And there will always be a few attacks. Luckily, no one was hurt, much less killed, by the attack.”
“No one was hurt?” Falcon said. “How is that possible?”
“We have certain defenses in place,” Quinn said. “Ways to ensure they do not pester us.”
“How?” Falcon said, eyes bright and shining.
“That is a conversation for another time,” Quinn said. “Until then, I want you to check out Arthur’s Port and her satellite towns. Get a feel for the place, and see what could be possible for your own community if you put the same strategies in place.”
“How much will it cost?” Balder said. “Something like this will cost a pretty penny. How much will you force us to pay?”
“Nothing,” Quinn said.
“Nothing costs nothing,” Falcon said.
She was daring him to disagree with her. Instead, Quinn nodded in agreement.
“You are right,” he said. “Even when there appears to be no cost, there always is one, somewhere. There is a cost, but it is not in coin or trade. It is the cost of humility. You must alter your way of thinking and embrace the Undead, not eschew them.”
“Embrace them?” Balder said.
He turned to his retinue of smatterers.
“He wants me to mate with them,” he said. “Very well. Bring me a large condom and let’s get it over with.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Quinn said coolly. “But you will need to open your mind.”
“And my legs,” Balder muttered.
“I understand your concern, really I do,” Quinn said, “but what I’m offering you is knowledge of how to develop the kind of community we have here.”
“Are you questioning my leadership skills, boy?” Balder said, puffing out his chest.
“It’s because of your leadership skills I sent you my message,” Quinn said. “You’ve tried and tested a hundred different systems. All the best leaders have. But there’s something you’re missing and it could make all the difference.”
“Then quit the grab ass and just tell me!” Balder said.
“I will,” Quinn said. “When you’re ready to hear it. What I can tell you is, there is a way for you, and your people, to never fear the Undead ever again.”
“A way to kill the Undead en masse?” Balder said. “You have developed a weapon?”
“It is a weapon,” Quinn said. “But it will not require the death of the Undead. It is more powerful than that.”
Balder appraised Quinn and then picked up his trencher. He took a deep gulp and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
“We’ve come all this way,” he said. “I suppose a few more days won’t hurt. But no longer than that. The moment you tell us your great secret, is the moment I leave.”
Balder was unsure of what Quinn had to tell him, Siren knew. He had a thick cloud of apprehension above his head. Trying something new might not have been what he was looking for, but it certainly was what Falcon was searching for. Her eyes were burning into Quinn. Balder might not listen, but Falcon might.
Chapter Seven
The Chinese had elected to set up their camp beside the sea. As a community that spent the majority of its time on an island, Quinn shouldn’t have been surprised. The vast majority of those who lived in the community were Asian. Most were Chinese, though not all. They hadn’t come with tents, but instead elected to setup temporary buildings made of plastic. They unfolded and were secured to the ground with hooks in case of strong winds.
Quinn’s procession was slow, and it gave the Chinese plenty of time to prepare for their welcoming tradition. Many things might have changed about the world, but the Chinese need for tradition certainly hadn’t. Gifts were exchanged and received, each member of their party getting paired off before finally Quinn met the Chinese leader.
Chin was a small, balding man, quite unassuming in appearance and personality, but he was the one who made the key decisions in the community. It was important for Quinn to follow protocol so he could get his message across.
The Chinese officials wore matching sharp suits and creased frowns. They were all middle-aged men. They were quick to sit down after Chin, but before Quinn. Quinn found it mildly annoying, but didn’t really care what order everyone sat down in.
“Welcome to Arthur’s Port,” Quinn said.
No one said a word.
“I am the Controller here,” Quinn said. “I safeguard the communities to ensure they are safe, and to conduct trade with other communities, such as yours, to form a stable network so we might help and support each other in these, the dark days of our species.”
Again, no response. Quinn shifted in his seat, beginning to feel uncomfortable.
“I wished to tell you about an opportunity,” he said. “A chance to replicate what we have achieved here at Arthur’s Port. It will require hard work and, more than that, for you to open your minds to new possibilities you hadn’t even considered before.”
“Trade,” one of the ministers said gruffly. “We come for trade.”
“We are not discussing trade today,” Quinn said. “We might, after I show you what I have to show you—”
The official spat something in Chinese, then pressed his fingertip to the tabletop.
“We come for trade,” he said.
Quinn was beginning to get irritated. Before he could open his mouth and reply with a thorny barb, Siren placed a hand on his shoulder. The touch didn’t go unnoticed.
“This is not a negotiation,” Quinn said. “In truth, I have something I need to share with you, but the time for doing so is not now. I invite you to take a tour through our community, to see what we have achieved, and what you can too, if you but instigate some of our systems.”
“We do not need new systems,” another official said. “We wish to discus
s improving trade.”
“You’re not listening to what I’m telling you,” Quinn said. “We don’t need extra trade. I can show you how to do that yourselves, with no need for help from anyone else.”
The officials glared at Quinn. Their roots were still firmly buried in the past and demanded respect from whoever spoke to them. Well, that world was gone. Now, it was all about survival, and given the choice between working with a farmer or one of these official types, it was an easy choice for Quinn to make. He was certain that in the past these men had held high powerful offices, and flat-out refused to accept the world for the way it now was.
“May I speak with you in private?” Chin said.
The leader sat on the other end of the table, hands folded in front of him. Quinn wouldn’t have known it had been him who had spoken if it hadn’t been for the other officials turning to look at him.
“Certainly,” Quinn said.
Chin stood, the officials following suit. Siren sidled up to Quinn.
“What does he want?” Quinn whispered.
“I don’t know,” Siren said. “But he’s concerned about something. He likes you.”
“That’s a huge weight off,” Quinn said.
Siren broke away as Quinn joined Chin. They stepped outside and walked along the seafront. The Chinese officials followed, keeping a safe distance back. They seemed affronted that Siren, a woman, would be in their midst. Siren took no notice of them and kept her eyes firmly on Quinn and Chin.
“Please accept my apologies with regard to my colleagues,” Chin said. “They were born with silver spoons and have never needed to struggle their entire lives. They want something, and it is given to them. They have much to learn. This is something I must educate them on. And yet, they know not one of them was the right person to lead. They chose me. I was born poor and worked my way up through the system. There are different forms of survival, and their form, the way of politics and intellect, is over. They know this and it is that that makes them afraid.
