by J. Rock
21.
"Where'd you get the machine!" he demands, pressing the shooting iron hard against the woman's temple.
Her sobbing grows harder.
"I... I... My husband..." she mutters. "It was... He's a conductor at Venecici Station and..." She stops, having a brief episode of panic.
"Finish this, Child Jude," Blaine's voice snakes from somewhere behind him. Jude turns to make sure Blaine had actually spoken. Sometimes–just sometimes mind you–he hears Blaine's voice inside his head.
This, however, isn't one of those times.
Jude nods, turning back to the woman. "Your husband accepted a plow machine as someone’s payment for passage aboard the Engie, is that right?"
The woman bobs her head up and down vigorously. "Yes."
"A bribe, you might call it."
The woman frowns. "No! Not like that! He–"
"Credits are the only legal form of economic transaction," Jude interrupts. "It may be a strange new world we now live in, Marial, but even that has not changed. It keeps things fair. Credits were the basis of our economy and still are."
Marial nods at everything he says, appearing to agree wholeheartedly.
"So you see, if we let mutants like your husband take unscrupulous advantage of the situation, people get desperate. Riots break out. Then the Children of Mutanity would have to step in." Marial gasps. "And trust me, Marial, you don't want that."
The shooting iron still pressed hard to her head, Marial nods emphatically. "Of course, you are right," she agrees. "When Fabrial gets home, I'll... I'll make sure things are put right." She gestures to the Forerunner plow–the same one stolen from the Children of Mutanity just days earlier–parked in a lean-to shelter behind Marial's house. Well, the house is more of a shack, really. He'd always hated coming to Venecici on ore runs from Krakelyn. The place is nothing more than a refuse dump.
Jude grins at Marial. "That won't we necessary," he replies. "I think he'll get the message loud and clear."
Jude cocks the weapon.
"No!" Marial cries, raising her shaking, tumor pocked hands as a shield. "How was Fabrial to know that the machine belonged to the Children? It was a mistake! That's all! Just a simple little–"
BLAAAAAM!!!
Marial's cries cease as her corpse crumbles to the soil, blood pooling around her. A hand lands on Jude's shoulder, startling him. He nearly pulls the trigger again, but Blaine stops him.
"Good, Child Jude. Very good." Blaine pauses to stare at the corpse. "Very, very good. The last human will be ours soon enough." Blaine turns and gestures to his men looking on. "Bring him in!" he yells.
Blaine has a contingent of his twenty most faithful followers with him here, the rest of the Children spread throughout the southern cities. The followers part as a man, hands bound behind his back and a knotted rag tied in his mouth, is led to the head of the gathering.
Fabrial.
The man screams through his gag when he sees his dead wife, falling to his knees before her sagging corpse. Blaine nods, and one of the men removes the gag.
"Bastards!" Fabrial screams, leaning against his wife for support. "Why? Why did you–"
Blaine strikes the man without preamble, fire blazing in his dark brown eyes. "Your wife gave you up, Fabrial!" Blaine snickers. "She says you accepted this Forerunner machine as payment for a seat on the Engie. That is hardly ethical behavior for a man in your position."
Fabrial sneers, teeth bared. "Cut the ruse!" he screams. "This isn't about some bribe! What would men like you care if I– Ooomph!"
Fabrial is cut off as Blaine strikes him again. "We are men no longer, Fabrial," Blaine says, his tone severe. "We are mutants. And we are looking for the last human. Though you may not know it yet, one of the people who bribed their way aboard your Engie today was a human. A pure human."
Fabrial scowls. "Impossible! I got a good look at all of them and–"
Blaine strikes again.
"Thou shalt only suffer a mutant to live! You aided and abetted a human, allowing it to escape! The penalty for such a crime is death!"
Fabrial collapses totally now, falling onto his wife. "A world without humanity is a world I no longer wish to be a part of," he announces, turning away, eyes cast on his dead wife's face.
"Jude," Blaine says, turning to him. "Finish it."
Jude nods, raising the shooting iron still clutched in his right hand. Fabrial sobs, but his face is hidden against his wife's body, half buried. That makes it easier. It's getting easier all the time.
But this man deserves to die, doesn't he?
It was men like this that caused the mutations in the first place, right?
Who caused the mutations?
"What did they look like?" Jude suddenly blurts aloud, surprising even himself.
He doesn't expect Fabrial to respond, but the man actually does. "Who?" he asks, sneering.
"You know who," Jude retorts, pulling his foot back to administer a kick.
Fabrial recoils. "An old woman with massive tumors on her face... A young man with red sores on his... A boy and a young woman, both with grayscale." Fabrial's response is quick, avoiding the blow from Jude.
"The young woman," Jude continues, "what color was her hair?"
Who caused the mutations?
The question keeps haunting his mind...and he doesn't know why. He's just a soldier in this war. A nobody. Why should he care who caused the mutations?
Because I know who did it.
"What is the meaning of this, Jude?" Blaine cuts in, unhappy at the delay. Jude shakes his head, giving Blaine a serious stare. Blaine sighs and nods, allowing it.
Jude nudges Fabrial with his boot. "Well?" he urges.
Fabrial smirks. "Red and short, shaved at the sides." Jude's eyes widen. Fabrial sees it. "You know her, don't you? You–"
BLAAAM!
Fabrial's corpse drops on top of his wife's, together in death.
"Thank you, Child Jude," Blaine says, taking his prodigy by the shoulder again, pulling him away from the others for a moment. "But what was that about?"
Jude shakes his head; his mind has been so fuzzy since joining the Children.
Since...the Box...on the beach...
"Nothing," he replies, trying to sound honest. "Just wanted to get a better description of her, that's all."
"The last human, you mean?" Jude nods. "We already knew her hair color," Blaine says, eyeing Jude warily.
"Yeah," Jude agrees, "I just... I wanted to make sure."
Blaine finally smiles, slapping Jude on the back. "Good enough then! Come! We have work to do! The last human is only a day or two ahead of us!" The two men rejoin the others, walking casually.
Who caused the mutations? Jude thinks as they move.
The answer is there–he knows that it is–but for some reason he can't grasp it. It's been blocked out. Blocked by guilt. He sees a silver Box on a beach in his mind...but that's all he sees.
Who opened the box?
"The last human," a voice responds inside.
The voice that is always there now.
Who is the last human? Jude counters, as if the voice is an old friend he likes to argue with.
"You know who, Jude."
Jude hesitates, denying the answer he dreads to say aloud.
Juno? he finally asks with massive trepidation.
Blaine's answer hisses in his brain. "Yesssss..."
