Separation

by James Axler

  “But it wasn’t focused. I’ve come to realize that the parts of me that I thought were lost were there all the time, but they just weren’t so simply proscribed anymore. They were values that hadn’t been lost, but had been more universally applied. I did belong, I’d just never had time to think about it. I had a family, a tribe, and I don’t know if it’s at all possible for us to fit in with anyone else.”

  Sineta reached out and took Mildred’s hand. “I shall miss you—miss all of you—if you depart. But I shall understand.”

  Markos grunted. “I’m not sure that I can say the same. I will abide by any decision, but I feel a little lost.”

  Ryan slapped the sec boss on the back. “You know what? I kind of feel the same. Sometimes people use a lot of unnecessary words to explain simple things. At the end of the day, anyone has to live their own way and learn their own lessons. And the problem is, I think ours are just different to yours. We’re looking for something—a place we can call home, a place that seems right for us. What we need isn’t what you need. Pilatu needs a plot of land where it can build a ville, start to farm and start to trade. Somehow, I think that just isn’t for us.”

  “Then what is?” Markos asked.

  The one-eyed man shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’ll let you know when we find it, because I’m sure we’ll all know when we do.”

  Markos and Sineta rose to leave the companions, both seeming to accept that their allies wouldn’t join permanently to them.

  “Travel with us a little longer,” Markos said by way of parting. “We would welcome your company until you feel the need to strike out on your own.”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Ryan said simply.

  The companions sat in silence, watching Markos and Sineta leave them. Then Ryan turned and fixed Sharona with a monocular stare in the flickering firelight.

  “And it strikes me that Mildred isn’t the only one around here with a story to tell,” he said softly.

  “I DON’T REALLY KNOW where to begin,” Sharona said hesitantly, “because it all seems so strange, and in a lot of ways as though it happened to somebody else, which it kind of did. I’m not the same as I was back when I last saw you,” she added to Dean.

  “You look…different,” her son replied. “I knew it was you straight away, though. What happened, Rona? You were buying the farm. It was rad sickness. That’s why you sent me away, because you didn’t have long left. So how come…?”

  “I wish I could answer that,” she replied. “I truly wish I could, because then I could begin to understand what I’ve been through in the past few years and I could account for how I ended up here, right now. But I can’t. All I can tell you is that I was deathly ill. I thought it was rad sickness and it wouldn’t be long before I was finally chilled. That was truly why I sent you away,” she said to Dean, “because I didn’t want to see you at the end—didn’t want you to see me. I thought it would be long and painful, and I had to make sure that you were looked after in some way and that you’d be all right when I was gone. And let’s face it, we didn’t have much of a life near the end anyway, with me having to work in a gaudy to earn some jack.”

  Dean winced at the memories. Now he had his mother back, he didn’t want to remember those days and what she had been through so that they could survive. “Don’t, please,” he said softly.

  Sharona ruffled his hair. “I’ve got to, sweetheart, if I’m going to explain in some way what happened to me. You see, after you’d gone, I started to waste away more and more. I became so thin that even the cheapest gaudy slut had more meat on her bones than I did. I couldn’t even earn a living with my body anymore—sure, I’d pick up the odd trick, but not enough to keep alive. And even though I knew the end was near, there was still a part of me that wanted to keep alive…you know, that spark that won’t let you give up, even when you feel like there’s no hope.

  “So there was nothing left for me there—you were gone, and I couldn’t earn a living in any way.

  “But there was a convoy coming through, a trader called Nyland. Evil, nasty piece of work, but with some surprising edges. Can’t remember ever seeing a woman trader before, especially one that was so small. She must have just been five feet, if she was that. But I’ve never seen anyone, man or woman, who could take so much jolt or drink so much and still stay on her feet. And that was when her temper got worse. I once saw her take on a man twice her size and beat him in a fight by crushing his balls with her teeth while he tried to break her neck. He let her loose in sheer pain and she chilled him by beating him with a table.

  “And yet she took pity on me. She found me when I was trying desperately to turn a trick. I was willing to take on two of her crew for the price of one because I hadn’t eaten for days. But when I stripped naked they laughed, and one of them wanted to satisfy himself by beating me first. Guess I must have screamed louder than I thought, because she found me. She had this number two called Dimitri, a fat guy with glasses who liked boys. He had a temper almost as bad as hers. The two of them ripped the shit out of these guys and left them chilled. Only thing she moaned about was how the hell was she gonna find replacements at such short notice, and she argued with Dimitri that they should have just beaten them up a little. I swear, I thought they were gonna rip the shit out of each other next.

  “Anyway, they noticed I was there eventually, and I guess she remembered why they’d gone in so hard in the first place. She asked me why I was turning tricks when I looked so bad, and I told her. That’s when she offered me the chance to join her convoy. With these guys chilled, she needed someone to act as quartermaster as to cook and clean.

  “I figured she must be a little crazy—I was buying the farm—But it was a better offer than anything else I’d had for a long time, so I went with it. Once I was in her convoy, I saw a few people like myself…the lame and the useless, and I figured that it was her hobby. But at least I didn’t have to screw anyone for jack anymore and she was okay if you kept on the right side of her. She had a healer from the bayous by the name of Mama Celeste. She fussed over me for weeks on end, saying that I had something called tuberculosis and a bad thyroid problem. She had a store of medicine she kept in an old footlocker, and she doctored me as if I were her own child. I got better. It wasn’t rad sickness after all. I was going to live.

  “Mama Celeste was my savior, and I got strong really quickly, although I never put much weight on again and I looked different from when you knew me,” she said to Dean. “My skin’s still shitty and breaks out sometimes, and I look older than I am, but inside I got a whole lot stronger…stronger than I was before and sure as hell a whole lot stronger than I look, which came in useful sometimes.

  “I stayed with the convoy, and I started to do more. And we were a good little outfit. We became the tightest little outfit working this side of the coast, and we were such a stupe-looking bunch that no one figured we’d ever be the trouble we could be. Nyland became the trader that no one ever wanted to cross. Mebbe even more so than Trader,” she said to Ryan.

  “Anyway, this went on for some time. I didn’t think much about my old life. Not because I’d forgotten you,” she said to Dean, “but because I figured that wherever you were, you were probably doing better there than you ever would with me, and that’s okay. I just put it out of my mind whenever it came back to me. But then it started to change.

  “The people you fought back there were from a ville called Broadmead, and they’re not bad people. They were always fair to us when we traded with them, and we came back to them a few times. But when we were on our way back this time, I couldn’t stop thinking about my son.”

  Sharona looked up into the night sky, finding it hard now to express what was inside.

  “Dean was always on my mind, and I used to dream about him all the time. I hadn’t done that since the days when the sickness was really bad. I figured that mebbe it was welling up again…but after a few nights I knew it wasn’t about that. I knew that the m
ost stupe, impossible thing was happening. That somehow, in a way I couldn’t explain even if I wanted to, I knew that Dean was coming near to me and that if I followed my instincts, then I would find him.”

  “Hot pipe!” Dean exclaimed. “That’s what it was.” He explained, when faced with questioning glances, “Since we did the last jump, I’ve had dreams about Rona, and all the while we were on Pilatu, I kind of envied Mildred that thing about family and belonging that she was getting. It was like there was something that I was missing and it wasn’t anything I’d thought about, but it was just there.”

  Sharona nodded. “I stayed behind the last time we hit Broadmead. I knew that I had to, that if I just waited long enough you’d be brought to me. All I had to do was have patience and wait till it got really strong. And I could see you, I knew you were near. Then when the sec patrol got ambushed, and they wanted a raiding party, I volunteered to go on it. They didn’t want me, but they were always too scared of Nyland’s crew to say no to us. And the rest…” Sharona trailed off with a shrug. There was nothing more to say.

  But plenty for them to think about.

  THE PILATAN CARAVAN spent the next two days journeying across the plain until they came upon the remains of an old highway that stretched, in jagged and broken line, into the distance. The growth of vegetation around the highway was considerably less than farther back through the plains they had just traversed, making their progress easier. There were little signs of any villes nearby, and after some consultation with the companions, who had traveled these kind of routes many times before, Sineta and Markos decided to strike out ahead. They had put a considerable distance between themselves and the ville of Broadmead. Whoever they encountered now would find them willing to take matters on different terms.

  During the long trek, Sharona took the chance to be with her son as much as possible, and Dean was also eager to spend time with his mother. The rest of the companions, knowing that they had spent so much time apart, and that the youth was still in shock at the sudden and unexpected reappearance of his mother, let them be. Krysty couldn’t shake the notion at the back of her mind that there was something amiss with Sharona, and this wasn’t to be a glorious reunion. Was this some kind of residual jealousy because Ryan’s ex-lover had reappeared? Was it because she had, almost without realizing, slipped into the role of being a surrogate mother to Dean when he needed it? She didn’t know and didn’t feel inclined to delve too deeply in case she didn’t like what she may find.

  But the alarm bells didn’t stop ringing.

  Sharona made the most of the time she had with Dean to catch up on what he had been doing since she had last seen him, but when he talked of what they would be doing in the future, he noticed that she seemed uneasy and gave him pat answers that suggested she wasn’t comfortable with the idea of traveling with them. He broached the matter with his customary lack of subtlety as they rested by the side of the blacktop one late afternoon.

  “Rona, why don’t you want to come with us? Are you going to sneak off and leave me again?”

  Sharona leveled him with a stare, pausing to pick her words before answering. There were things about the question that hurt. She said, “I never left you willingly, you know that. And I came looking for you, waited to find you, so I don’t think it’s likely that I’m going to turn around and sneak off, as you put it—”

  “I’m sorry,” Dean cut in with a small voice. “I didn’t mean…”

  Sharona sighed. “I don’t blame you, Dean. You were young, and you wanted to stay, and I wouldn’t let you. And I’m not going to let you go this time.”

  “Then why do you sound so distant when I start to talk about the others and where we’ll be going or what we’ll be doing next?”

  Sharona paused. “Because I don’t know if it’ll be the right thing for me to go with them…or you, either.”

  At first Dean could say nothing. He was too shocked by what Sharona had said. The companions were his life and now that his mother was back, he wanted her to be part of that, so he could have that sense of family that he had spent his time on Pilatu yearning for. Why didn’t she want that?

  Sharona looked at him with a sad smile, as though she had read his mind. “They’re your people, not mine,” she whispered. “I don’t know them and I don’t see how I can fit in.”

  “But they’re really good—been really good to me. I mean. I know Doc’s a bit crazy, but he’s got courage. Jak takes a long time to know, but he’s the best hunter you’ll ever see, and an amazing fighter. I’ve learned so much from him. Mildred is great, and J.B.’s so cool with all the shit he knows, and Krysty has been like a mom to me, and then there’s Dad…” Dean suddenly trailed off, as it began to make more sense to him. Something clicked in his head.

  “Yeah, exactly,” Sharona answered. “Your dad is really thrown by me turning up. I can tell because he’s said nothing to me about it since that night when I tried to explain it all. And Krysty can’t be too happy about me being here, either. Can’t say that I blame her. So it’ll be hard for us all to get along. But why do we have to?”

  “I don’t follow,” Dean said, although he had the nastiest feeling that he knew what was coming.

  Sharona grabbed him by the shoulders and her deep-set eyes lit up as she said, “Why don’t we just go off by ourselves? Mebbe we could try to find Nyland’s convoy again, or find a ville where we could settle and make a life for ourselves. Somewhere that we won’t have to face shitloads of danger every day, where we can just live in peace and get back the time we’ve lost.”

  “Why do we have to do that?”

  Tears filled her eyes, trickling down her cheeks. “Because I don’t want to share you with anyone. Why should I? I’ve lost so much time with you. I sent you away thinking I was about to buy the farm! I can’t see myself sharing you and risking you every day in some insane search for…for what?”

  Dean shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I can leave them all behind. Please don’t make me.”

  Sharona could see the real hurt in his face and she looked away.

  “I truly don’t know if I can do that, Dean. But I’ll think about it. It’s all I can promise you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Pilatan caravan traveled across the new lands for several days, covering a rapidly changing terrain. Some sections were arid, the land scorched and barren, where others were lushly vegetated with overhanging woodlands that provided cover for the shrubs and grasses to propagate. There was little wildlife to bother the caravan. Most of the mammals were small and the birds weren’t of a predatory variety.

  There was, however, one moment when the Pilatans came face-to-face with a facet of mainland life with which the companions were all too familiar.

  It was on the third day, as they crossed a stretch of land that was so sunblasted and rad damaged that little could grow. The only thing that linked this to any of the other areas they had passed was the ubiquitous two-lane blacktop that still wove its broken-backed way across the land. A scout party reported that they had located a source of water. The Pilatans were plentifully supplied with food as Jak had taught them supplementary hunting skills that they had practiced with great aplomb on the small mammals and birds. But water was always a problem. They only had a certain amount of water that they could store as they journeyed, so the search for water was always of paramount importance.

  The scouting party had reported that they had found a spring about three miles to the northeast. Markos led the caravan in that direction. It was on the way that Krysty turned to Ryan.

  “Something bad’s about to happen, lover. I’m not sure what, but it doesn’t feel good,” she commented.

  Ryan looked at her. Her hair was waving in the breeze, curling around her head. It wasn’t tight and defensive, but it was alarmed. He turned to the other companions.

  “Triple-red—keep your blasters ready.”

  “Shouldn’t we tell the others?” Sharona asked, readying he
r own Vortak precision pistol, which she had kept hidden about her person.

  Ryan shook his head. “They’ve got to learn these things the hard way. Besides, what am I going to tell them? They don’t really know much about Krysty being able to sense trouble.”

  Sharona shrugged. “Have it your own way, Ryan.”

  The one-eyed man shot her a glance. “I will,” he said harshly.

  Dean was about to respond when they were distracted by a shout from the front of the caravan.

  “Water ahead—and what the hell is that?”

  Looking to where the spring lay, the companions could see a mass of naked people…no, not people, for there was something animalistic about the group, who acted more like a pack of wild dogs.

  “Stickies!” J.B. exclaimed.

  Markos turned. “What are stickies?”

  Ryan shook his head. “Time for explanations later. Just know that they’re vicious and they need chilling!”

  His words came not a moment too soon, as the pack by the spring sighted the caravan and turned to charge toward them. From the manner in which they had been greedily consuming from the spring, they had probably not seen water for some time…by which token, they had probably not seen food for as long. And the Pilatans would look like good food to them.

  “Don’t let them get near. Just blast the bastards!” Ryan yelled.

  He mentally weighed the odds. At a rough glance, it seemed as though there were as many stickies as there were Pilatans, and the caravan was armed. Against that, many of the Pilatans were children, or old, and none of them had experience of what a stickie was capable of. With their sharp teeth, their bloodlust frenzy, and the flattened, rubbery suckers on their fingers that could grip and crush a victim, it would be a close-run thing. And which way it would run, he didn’t want to predict.

  The companions, under Ryan’s direction stepped away from the main body of the caravan and began to fire on the stickies. There was still enough distance between the blasters and the intended victims for a lot of the shooting to be random rather than aimed, but several of the creatures went down either chilled or fatally wounded as the slugs from the handblasters and the charges from Doc’s LeMat percussion pistol, J.B.’s M-4000 and Ryan’s SIG-Sauer ripped through them. J.B.’s load of barbed metal fléchettes were particularly effective, as the spiked and white-hot metal ripped through the mass of flesh that was the crowd of charging stickies, mangling bone and filling the air with a fine mist of blood.