by Kieran Shea
Stopping by the wooden rails of one of the livestock areas, she observes a half-dozen scattered men and women attending the animals. Each Commonager moves about their tasks with disciplined intent, and the permeating reek of manure, damp fur, and feathers is thick. Looking left, Koko spends a few minutes tracking the somewhat malicious movements of a small tawny-haired boy hitting chickens with a stick. Several of the terrified chickens try to sneak past the boy looking for sanctuary in a large wooden coop, but the boy viciously thwarts their frantic attempts with heavy swats. When the boy sees Koko watching, he opens and closes a gate, quickly running off. Sébastien comes up behind her.
“Ah, there you are,” Sébastien says.
Koko turns and chucks a thumb over her shoulder.
“Guess that kid really hates chickens.”
Sébastien glances at the boy who has run halfway across the grounds. A pulse of annoyance passes across his face.
“Oh, that one,” he says. “I’ll make it a point to speak to his mother. That boy is always after the animals. Children—they can be so cruel.”
“A hatchet could give a real taste of cruelty.”
Sébastien looks at the quavering birds that have resumed pecking the ground. “I’m afraid we try to refrain from eating animals unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“Huh. Pelham forgot to mention that.”
“You spoke with Pelham? Ah, so what else did she share with you?”
“This and that,” Koko says. “She went so far as to tell me that despite all your avuncular baloney you and Dr. Corella are the only ones with outside contact and that you restrict supply transports to every two months, pulling in outside assistance only if there’s an emergency. I’ve got to be honest with you, Sébastien. What? Flynn and I don’t qualify?”
One of the goats in the pen pokes their head through the slats, and Sébastien allows the animal to lick his open palm.
“I’ve had other pressing matters to attend to.”
“Oh, sure. Like that funeral for your little runaway.”
Sébastien adjusts his posture and wipes his hand on his pants. He almost responds, but just then an older man with a strong, decisive stride crosses the grounds to them.
“My apologies for disturbing you, Sébastien… the twins said you wanted to be kept informed. There’s been additional movement with the situation in the woods.”
The fine brush of hair on her neck prickling, Koko looks at the new arrival.
Stepping with him, Sébastien guides the man by his arm and there are whispers, but a moment later the two break off. Sébastien returns.
“What’s going on?” Koko asks.
“Some transient children approached the walls asking for food. Dr. Corella gave the okay to provide them some.”
“Transients?”
“Yes.”
“In the prohibs?”
“De-civs, unfortunately.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, part of a larger cluster. The search party noticed their camp when they were out looking for Kumari and found you and Flynn. This sort of thing, it’s happened only once before.”
Koko looks at the walls. “Guess your fancy-schmancy Special Economic Zone restrictions ain’t quite up to snuff.”
“While I’ve taken great pains to alter the perceived hazards of this area, it’s nearly impossible to eliminate all generative map records, you know. In all probability this group are just disorientated by the recent bad weather and opted for a short cut that brought them through the area. Miserable creatures… You do know about Sin Frontera, don’t you?”
“You mean the de-civ freedom warrens spread out in the southern deserts? Yeah, sure, of course.”
“Persistent, apocryphal myth more than anything. Most de-civs seeking Sin Frontera elect for more eastward routes.”
Koko clucks her tongue. “And Dr. Corella went and gave them supplies…”
“What of it?”
“Kind of a bad move if you ask me.”
“Oh, stop. While they’re de-civs, they were children, Koko. We’re not monsters. And anyway, I’m sure the rest of them will move along soon.”
Koko tilts her head. “If you guys are so community bent, I’m surprised you didn’t just invite them in.”
“Invite them in?”
“Yeah, you helped us.”
“Don’t be absurd. Your circumstances are different. You and Flynn are obviously re-civ and with de-civs there are significant disease concerns to consider. The specific trial parameters of our—” Sébastien stops himself.
Koko looks at him. “Specific trial parameters? What specific trial parameters?”
Sébastien looks away. “I misspoke. I was simply trying to articulate that the Commonage’s greater—oh, why do you even care? It’s not like you’re staying.”
Realizing she’s rattled him, Koko pushes Sébastien against the fence. As he tries to move away, Koko dangles out an arm and fakes a punch. Sébastien covers up.
“Please, don’t…”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t… hit me,” Sébastien says, puddling.
The left corner of Koko’s mouth curls and she grabs him by his shirt. “Guess I have your full attention now, don’t I?”
“You don’t need to be so—”
“Insistent?”
“Let go of me.”
“No, I’ve had just enough of your bullshit, so here’s what you’re going to do, Sébastien. You’re going to take me to whatever communication systems you have, and I mean right now, and we’re going to contact that transport, understand?”
“But—”
“No buts. You are going to do this, and I’m going to bird-dog every move you make. Once the transport is in the pipe, I promise not to beat you senseless.”
“You don’t need to act this way. I said I would take care of it and I will.”
Koko lets go of him. Graciously, she fans out an arm.
“After you,” she says.
Minutes later in the administration building, Koko strong-arms Sébastien up the stairs. Once they’re unlocked and engaged, Koko is impressed by the scope of Sébastien’s computer and communication systems. State of the art, one couldn’t ask for more advanced personal tech, but given his background Koko expected as much. Upon entering his quarters, Koko was actually mildly tickled that her earlier patch job on the keypad worked without a hitch. Forcing him to sit down at his desk, Sébastien works quickly through the now activated screens.
“Who’s your usual service provider?” Koko asks.
“Akotitiwin Air out of Calgary.”
“Private?”
“Yes. They’re reliable, and don’t ask questions.”
“Pull up their pilot dossiers.”
Sébastien does as she demands, and Koko studies the records. “Most are ex-military, that’s not cool. Wait. This one. Request him.”
“Why?”
“Right there, subsection three. Guy trained only for distribution and shipping, and he has serious financial obligations. See? Right there. He has a spouse in the hospital and awaiting a skin transplant. Request that guy on a solo-helmed craft with no backup. A guy with those types of obligations will know better than to try to pull something funny.”
Sébastien enters the request. “He’s available.”
“Good.”
“Final destination? It’s required to enter something.”
“Moscow.”
“Moscow?”
“Moscow by way of that’s none of your business.”
Sébastien shakes his head. “Tampering with flight plans… you’re not planning to hurt this pilot, are you?”
“Not if I can help it.”
Sébastien swipes a finger through a screen and ratifies the transport request. “There. Transport confirmed. Now… to the airspace restrictions.”
“What airspace restrictions?”
Sébastien shakes his head contritely. “For someone trained to be in
tune with her surroundings I’m surprised you haven’t noticed. In addition to the SEZ maps, there’s a no-fly zone covering altitudes upward into the lower Second Free orbits with blackout limitations a hundred square kilometers east, south, and north and ten kilometers offshore and to the west.”
Koko beats a look out the window to the skies. Beyond a long swath of steely darkening clouds, there’s nothing.
“That must’ve cost a bundle.”
“That it did.”
“How long until they take effect?”
“Seventy-two hours,” Sébastien replies. “All time zones need to acknowledge the duration of the lifted restrictions, including every last SFZ orbital. Once the lift is locked in, the transport will depart Calgary, and the restrictions will resume after you’ve cleared the hundred square kilometers.”
“Do it.”
Sébastien types for a few minutes and then looks up.
“There. Happy now?”
“Not quite. There’s still the matter of my reimbursement for the weapons you destroyed.”
“Oh, that. Right, how much do you need?”
“A thirty thousand credit marker ought to cover it.”
“Thirty thousand?”
“Dump twenty in the Universal Serial Holdings. I can access USH almost anywhere.”
“Seems like a lot for a bunch of guns.”
The truth is, thirty thousand is excessive, but Koko believes a little extra is due given the shit she’s been through.
“Yeah, well, what do you know about the cost of hardware these days. Pull up the USH portal.”
The Universal Serial Holdings portal appears on a separate cone-shaped screen. Sébastien drags and drops thirty thousand credits from a file, and then looks at Koko.
“They need an account number.”
“Do you mind?”
Sébastien moves back in his chair and looks away. Koko bends down, types fast, and clicks an icon on the cone-shaped screen. The credits are transferred instantly.
“Now then,” Koko says walking across the room. “I’m going downstairs to check on Flynn and give him the good news.”
Sébastien stands. “So you’re actually trusting me now?”
Koko slides her hand into her pocket and caresses the paring knife’s edge with her finger.
“Trust has nothing to do with it.”
“I could cancel these transport orders, you know.”
“Yeah, you could, but look at my face. There are two hundred and six bones in the body, and seventy-two hours before the AA transport arrives. If you do anything, all those bones? Believe me, I will do my best to break every single one.”
* * *
As soon as Koko leaves, Sébastien sends a message to Dr. Corella.
[MESSAGE START]
M/: Be advised. AA transport has been contacted/restrictions lifted. K coming to see F.
C/: When?
M/: Now.
BITTERBLUE
Downstairs, Koko finds the twins Bonn and Eirik talking just off the stairwell, and she demands that they take her to the infirmary at once. This time Koko makes sure she memorizes the keypad combination at the secondary door when Bonn types it in. When the door opens she quickly pushes Eirik and Bonn aside.
Heading down the hall, Koko finds Flynn up and balancing on his good leg next to his bed. His eye is still covered with gauze, and one of the green-smocked medical assistants runs a purring horseshoe-shaped scanner over the bandage on his lifted leg.
“The fuck is this?”
Loopy-grinned, Flynn opens his arms wide.
“A wonder of the medical arts?”
Koko stares at him before she crosscuts her eyes to the assistant. Gently easing down Flynn’s elevated leg, the assistant is a woman of clear Eastern lineage and has silver-streaked black hair knotted in a tight bun on the back of her head.
Koko asks, “Should he be doing that?”
The assistant titters, “Dr. Corella’s progenitor cellular therapies are astonishing, no? Of course big, strong man here only wanted to keep sleeping, but Dr. Corella was insistent. Oligopotent evolutions, they take quicker if the patient moves as soon as possible.”
“Who are you?”
Flynn’s paper gown rustles. “Oh, this is Ganga. Ganga, allow me to introduce my… um… my friend—”
Koko places her fists on her hips. “Koko.”
“Right. This is Koko.”
Ganga offers her hand. “Ooh, it is such a pleasure to meet you. There’s been much talk around the Commonage. I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier when you arrived. You’re the spicy one, yes?”
Koko ignores Ganga’s offered hand and wraps her arms around Flynn. She looks up at his clean-shaven face and hugs him tight before she presses her cheek to his chest.
“She’s kind of overprotective,” Flynn explains.
Koko looks up. “Overprotective? You’re damn right, I’m overprotective. You nearly died on me, you dumb dope. You’re up and standing. Hot damn! You can actually walk?”
Flynn haws, “I’m a bit wonky, but yeah. We’ve been up and down the hall here a couple of times. Isn’t that right, Ganga?”
“Indeed, several times,” Ganga replies. “But we mustn’t be too hasty, yes? The mending cells require a gentle step, step, step.”
Koko looks at the assistant. “But how is this possible?”
Ganga busies herself with shutting down the horseshoe-shaped scanner in her hands. “The physiological abstracts are complex, but Dr. Corella’s acute care skills are brilliant. I heard he gave you a diagnostic and operational précis, no?”
“I couldn’t make much sense of it,” Koko replies, “but yeah he did. This is incredible. I mean, I only left here a few hours ago and Flynn was still all laid out like a slug.”
“Such states can be easily counteracted,” Ganga advises.
Flynn interjects, “And it’s not like I’m ready to run a marathon or anything, but I’ve got to say, I’m feeling a hell of a lot better. Of course my eye still smarts a bit, but Dr. Corella says that should fade soon. Where do they have you?”
“Some building called Lodge Delta.”
“Sweet. Is it nice?”
“Nice?”
“Yeah.”
“Flynn, this isn’t some hotel. It’s a room in a building. At first they even locked me in too, but now I’m free to move around as I see fit.”
“So I guess you’ve met Sébastien then.”
“Oh, I’ve more than just met him.”
Flynn rubs Koko’s upper arms lightly. “All in all he seems like a nice guy. Asked a lot of questions though, you know, about us, and he said us pulling through that wreck was a thousand to one shot. Talked on and on about the Commonage, the people here and how they get along. Pretty cool stuff, don’t you think?”
Flynn notices the displeasure on Koko’s face, so he gives Ganga an abashed look. Taking the hint, the assistant departs, and Koko jerks closed the curtains around Flynn’s bed.
“Give me specifics, Flynn. What did Sébastien say? What did he ask you?”
Looking slightly puzzled, Flynn sits down on the bed.
“Sheesh, what’s with the red face, huh? Here, you want some apple cider? They brought me some apple cider and cabbage soup before. The soup needed salt and I ate it all, but I think there’s some cider left.” He gestures to a pitcher and a cup on a nearby table.
Koko snaps her fingers in a dramatic three-count Z to reel in his attention. “Flynn, look at me. I’m not dicking around. Seriously, what did you tell Sébastien?”
“What’s wrong? You look upset.”
Koko pinches the bridge of her nose. “Listen, I’m sorry, but whatever glowing picture Sébastien laid out for you about this place, it’s definitely not cool and he’s definitely not some nice guy. There’s something off about this place.”
Flynn pats a hand on the bed. “Come here…”
Koko peevishly puffs out her cheeks and drops down on the bed next to him. When Fl
ynn leans in to give her a peck on the cheek, she pulls away.
“Whoa, I smell that bad? I had a sponge bath earlier.”
“Flynn… your eye…”
Flynn touches the gauze taped to his face and strokes a finger down his cheek. “Oh, that. That’ll heal. Gosh, I’ll tell you what though, it feels really strange not having a beard anymore.”
“Damn it—just tell me what you told Sébastien, all right?”
Flynn raises his hands in mock defense. “Okay, okay… boy, why’re you getting all riled? I told him I remembered being in the submarine, but I said the rest of it was a total blank.”
“Good.”
“He didn’t press me if that’s what you’re getting at, but of course Dr. Corella was there too, and he started talking about dissociative memory deficiencies and short-term memory loss.”
“And the two of them bought that?”
“I suppose. It didn’t appear like either of them was all that concerned. Man, you’re all tense. I might’ve been gummed up on painkillers before, but I thought you told me we were safe.”
Koko scrunches the bed sheets with her hands. “Flynn, they know I used to be a soldier. Sébastien sent a second group out to inspect the wrecked submarine and they found our bug-out packs, and Sébastien destroyed the weapons.”
“Destroyed?”
“Yeah, and they reactivated the GPS transponder too.”
“So?”
“So?”
“I don’t know what you’re worrying about. This place is awesome.”
Koko almost shrieks and grinds her teeth. “There’re no land vehicles or aircraft here, Flynn. This place is completely isolated. Not only that, but Sébastien and Dr. Corella are the only ones with outside contact. Thankfully I just sorted that out and got us a flight out.”
