Falling One by One

by S. A. McAuley

  I let that answer linger. I willed myself to be still and just be. “To live here would be some measure of peace.”

  Armise lay down and pulled me with him, circling his arm around me just like he had the night before. We didn’t need to sleep like this to preserve warmth, but neither of us moved.

  Armise’s lips grazed the back of my neck. “It would.”

  * * * *

  Armise woke in the morning with my lips around his cock. His back arching, hand palming the back of my head as he pumped into my mouth. There was no hurry, no expectation and I took my time, putting teeth to his thighs, running my hands over his hips and sliding them around his ass to draw him closer.

  He bucked into my mouth, hand urging me to take him deeper. When he came it was with a groan and inhalation of breath and he slumped against the pallet. I licked around the head of his cock and he shuddered, then I moved up his body to lie out next to him.

  “It’s warm in here,” he said in a sleep-rough voice.

  “I took care of the fire already. And I went down to the river to get water.”

  “Come hunting with me,” Armise said. “We will clean up then head out. We’ll track something that’s not genetmod.”

  “Real meat,” I replied with a tinge of wonder. It had been decades since I’d last eaten meat.

  “It still exists here. For now, we have nothing but time.”

  “More sleep first,” I said to him.

  Armise hummed. “We have time for that.”

  * * * *

  I didn’t have to wonder anymore how Armise had been able to track me down no matter where I was in the world. The bland landscape I saw in front of me wasn’t the same thing Armise saw. He was picking up the subtlest of clues, the smallest of shifts in the rocks and plants to note the places where animals had been on the move, and which direction they were headed in. He could smell things on the wind I had no idea were there and read the coming winds and rain and temperature changes as they shifted around us.

  He didn’t talk about his brother as we moved across the plain but Vachir was this unspoken entity between us, at every step. Armise had said he wasn’t the hunter and that his older brother had been, so I could only assume that Armise’s tracking abilities came from Vachir. Armise’s official record had his entire family being wiped out by the time Armise was six years of age, but if I had been the one to kill his brother, then Vachir couldn’t have died then. Maybe Armise’s early years hadn’t been as isolated as mine, or maybe those years had been worse—knowing his brother was alive somewhere and yet separated from him.

  The sun was cresting, resting at a midpoint in the sky that left my cheeks warm. Those same storm clouds hovered over a mountain range behind us but hadn’t seemed to move from their position last night. The ground underfoot was compact in places, rocky and tough, then the next step would have the toes of my boots sinking in, pushing apart the moss that covered the ground. It seemed like we were going in circles but so much of the topography looked the same that it was difficult for me to tell. I wasn’t comfortable in situations like this. A city center I would be able to maneuver around within minutes of arriving, but in this wide-open space I lost all sense of direction.

  Armise crouched in front of me and touched something on the ground then looked off at the horizon with his brow furrowed. His shoulders were tense.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I think we’re being followed.”

  Immediately I went on guard. If Ahriman was making a move then this was much sooner than either of us had anticipated.

  “There are no animals here anymore,” Armise said. “Let’s head back to camp. See what follows us.”

  Armise adjusted the rifle on his shoulder as he stood but he didn’t leave his weapon at the ready. Whatever he thought was tracking us either wasn’t a threat to us—not an immediate one at least—or he didn’t want to tip anyone off to the fact that we knew they were there.

  But by the time we made it back to the ger there was still no visible sign of anyone besides Armise and I, and neither of us could see any indication that someone else had been in our camp while we were way.

  “What was following us, animal or human?” I asked him.

  “There aren’t any animals here large enough to hunt. They have either moved on because there’s been a shift in the seasons again, or there’s something keeping them away. Something besides us.”

  “I didn’t see anyone on the way back.”

  “I didn’t either,” Armise confirmed. “Regardless, there’s something skirting at the edges of our territory.”

  “Or us at theirs.”

  Armise grunted. “Let’s build up the fire again. Eat. Check the weapons and supplies.”

  “Then sleep,” I said. “Maybe fuck.”

  “Maybe,” Armise replied, his gaze on the horizon. Then he rolled his head and pulled his shirt off as he entered the ger. “Fuck the fire,” he called out to me. “We’ll have time later.”

  This became the rhythm of our days. For weeks.

  Eventually there were points in the day that I forgot about the war or the Revolution. When I forgot that there was a man who had possibly hijacked our will and could take control of us at any time.

  I spent the days with Armise as my teacher—tracking, orientation and learning weather patterns. I trained him how to move for the sake of speed instead of power and shared with him the history Chen had been able to pull off the infochip. We competed against each other in one-off sniper bets that usually led to me having to cook the meals.

  Everything led to sex, but for different reasons than before. Gone was the desperation of what I had always thought would be the last time, replaced with a desperation to touch him because I could, at any time, for any reason.

  I’d found one small slice of peace and, as much as I knew it couldn’t last, I never wanted it to end.

  * * * *

  I was dreaming of an unlikely gathering—of Armise and me at a dinner table with my parents and Ahriman, Sarai Kersch’s voice coming from a nearby room followed closely by Chen’s insistent chiding—when I was too hot, kicking the sheet off of me, straddling that line between asleep and awake, tumbling closer to alert as the sweat beaded on my upper lip.

  “No fire today,” Armise grumbled next to me and dialed down his internal temp until I felt the waves of cold snapping off him.

  It was rare that he beat me out of bed anymore. I woke hours before him some days and it was usually I who tended to the fire and gathered the first buckets of water. Today I’d forego stoking the fire since the summer was rolling in upon us. At least with the chill of Armise next to me I was no longer ungodly hot.

  “We’ll need to cover the ger fully today,” Armise murmured. “The rainy season is about to start. Those clouds that have been sitting in the mountains will mo—”

  “Armise!” a woman called from outside the tent, and I swiped my rifle from the spot next to me and trained it in the direction the voice had come from.

  Armise put his hand on the barrel of the gun and pushed it down. “Get dressed. We do not have to worry.”

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” he answered the woman, in Mongol, and rolled out of bed with a huff to put clothes on. “Seriously, Merq, put it down,” he chastised me when I hadn’t laid my gun down yet. “Nayan could harm you but she won’t. Step outside to meet her when you are ready.”

  It didn’t matter to me what Armise thought was going on, I knew there were no guarantees. So I threw on a shirt and pulled on pants, leaving shoes behind so that I could follow him out at his heels. At the door I was met by a woman with deep creases on her face and a mouth that revealed a complete lack of teeth when she smiled at Armise. He stepped up to her, putting his palms to her cheeks. She threaded her fingers through the bracelets on his wrists, in a move that appeared familiar to both of them, and smiled up at him.

  “Axajegsh,” he said to her and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

  I s
tarted. This was the sister of Armise’s mother. The rediscovered relative Armise had spoken of in the AmFed.

  “Merq, this is my aunt Nayan,” he said to me in Continental English, as if he didn’t remember that I spoke his language.

  “A pleasure to meet you,” I greeted her in Mongol.

  She bowed her head and smiled. “You as well,” she responded in the same dialect. She turned back to Armise. “I have brought someone with me who wants to ensure your welfare as much as I.”

  My guard went back up until I saw Manny step around the ger. He was no longer thin or sunken—the transformation to hybrid must have been complete. “Couldn’t fucking find you even though I can practically see from one horizon to the other. Mother Darcan had no issue tracking you down.”

  “Must run in the blood,” I quipped.

  “Or the heart,” Nayan responded in English, resting her hand on Armise’s again. “Ni, you are being watched.”

  “There’s been a hybrid hanging around,” Manny clarified.

  Nayan shook her head. “Not close. Never closer than ten kilometers to your encampment.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s Dakra,” Manny added. “The first one to survive the transition.”

  “The one Dr. Blanc told us about,” Armise replied.

  Manny nodded. “The most unstable one. He’s like you, Armise, with that creepy-ass silence factor. If he didn’t want us to know he was around we wouldn’t.”

  Armise flexed his jaw. “What do your sources tell you? Is he working for Ahriman?”

  “He doesn’t work for anyone anymore. He’s not implanted. But it’s possible Ahriman bought his services.”

  “Is that why you are here?” Armise prodded.

  Manny frowned. “I’m here so you have a full hybrid on your side when Ahriman comes for Merq.”

  Chapter Eleven

  We followed the river away from the mountains, leaving our vehicle behind and traveling on foot. Between the four of us we were able to carry all of the necessary weapons, gear, food and shelter—in that order of importance. We’d had to leave little behind with all four of us carrying items, but we were packed down, each heavy with a load, and would be hindered if the hybrid who had been watching Armise and me—Dakra—decided to make a move on us. And what that next move was going to be was now my biggest concern, since it sounded like I was Ahriman’s sole target.

  “You’re sure—” I started to ask Manny. Again.

  “Yep,” Manny cut me off. “He’s put a contract out on only you. Apparently the deal Darcan struck with Ahriman is tight.”

  I scowled. Ahriman had to know that if he tried to take me he would be igniting Armise’s wrath as well. Maybe that was his plan. Or perhaps he was abiding by the deal he and Armise had made. He’d never come across as the honorable type, but what the hell did I know? I’d hated the man before I’d even met him.

  “What supplies are you carrying with you that we can trade?” Nayan framed it as a question, but I got the distinct impression whether or not we put anything up for trade wasn’t up for a debate.

  “We should have food and gear that can be spared for your household,” Armise obliged.

  “Is it just you?” I inquired.

  “My daughter Sharlat and me.”

  “You probably don’t have many people transporting to this area for trade or traveling through on purpose,” I noted.

  Nayan smirked. “Not on purpose. It will save Sharlat a trip to Opposition territory if we can utilize some of your surplus for negotiation.”

  Armise looked to me and I nodded my agreement.

  He answered for us. “Then you will have it.”

  I thought back to what she’d just said about Opposition territory. “You don’t consider yourself Opposition?”

  Her nostrils flared and her shoulders snapped up—a bristling reaction much like her nephew’s. “I am neither Singaporean nor Opposition.”

  “Then how do you identify?”

  “I bear no single label that encompasses all of me,” she said in a brisk tone. “We use breath for words that could be used for increasing our pace to make it home before nightfall.”

  “I think she means shut up and walk,” Manny interjected.

  “The woman has a point,” I conceded.

  We walked into the late afternoon, continuing to move as we refueled and hydrated. There was no visual on the hybrid Nayan and Manny were sure was following us, but Armise keeping his rifle at the ready for every step of every hour was enough for me to know we weren’t traveling alone. As Ahriman’s sole target, I was bringing one of the deadliest beings in the world to his village. They all knew it—and yet no one stopped our progress.

  If anything happened to any of them, their pain and their death would be on me. It wasn’t a responsibility I was used to caring about. Then there was Armise. After the weeks we’d spent on the steppe I couldn’t deny there was more to my feelings for him than me not wanting harm to come to him.

  I didn’t understand love or what place it had in my life, but there was no denying that Armise was an integral part of who I was not only now, but who I wanted to be in the future. I wanted to live in a way that I’d never experienced before, because I needed to know what would happen next between Armise and me.

  When we crested a hill and a gathering of gers came into sight, Armise looked over his shoulder at me and gave me what could only be called a grin. “This is my home.”

  “You are welcome here,” Nayan added in Mongol.

  “Thank you,” I responded, my chest tightening.

  There was no welcome party, no citizens who came forward or seemed to recognize Armise, but our arrival wasn’t met with suspicion either. The gers spilled toward the horizon. There were no permanent structures but, from what I understood, Armise’s family came from a long line of people who kept on the move with the seasons. They were like the nomads Simion’s family had been at one time, yet they stayed within the bounds of their country instead of traveling the world.

  A woman around Armise’s age met us at the fringes of camp and I didn’t have to be introduced to her to know she was one of Armise’s kin. She had the same silver weaving through her black hair, the same strength to her back…same lips set in a defiant line.

  She may have been related to Armise but she didn’t want us here.

  “Sharlat,” Nayan said. I wondered what else she would say to her daughter but Nayan merely took the pack off her back, set it at Sharlat’s feet and beckoned to us. “Follow me.”

  “Cousin,” Armise said to her as he brushed past. She didn’t answer him. And when I passed by her she didn’t catch eyes with me or acknowledge my presence. To my surprise, though, Manny stopped and stayed with her.

  I had so many questions and no time, yet, to ask any of them. Armise and I’d had weeks to ourselves and I’d spent that time living with him in the present instead of the past. But now I wanted to know it all.

  I wanted to hear about Armise’s childhood, of what he remembered before the DCR attack. I wanted to know how he and I had had such similar upbringings, such similar paths, and yet had ended up as two very different people. I wanted to know about his parents and his family. About the brother whose life I had taken and whether or not Armise was telling me the truth when he said he had no more need for vengeance.

  I wanted to understand why it didn’t matter what the answers were to those questions, that I wanted Armise at my side. In my bed. Protecting my back and me protecting his. I didn’t know when I’d gone from keeping him around—regardless of the reasons I shouldn’t have—because I wanted to. It was that simple and yet that complicated. Yet another layer of complexity to add to fifteen years of secrets and lies that were just beginning to be uncovered.

  If I was going to learn anything more about Armise it would be here. And maybe in that unearthing I would discover something of myself too.

  * * * *

  Nayan led us to a ger settled in one of the center rings of the villag
e. She pulled aside the cloth door and entered, pausing to hold it open for Armise and me to follow her inside.

  Armise sniffed. “It smells almost the same.”

  Nayan opened a black stove and ignited a fire starter that she tossed inside. “Like loneliness,” she replied with a slight smile and sat on the ground. She waved at everything I carried with me. “Rest. We’ll eat then prepare for nightfall.”

  The curtain was pushed aside just as I was dropping my pack to the ground and I whipped out my gun, putting the barrel to Sharlat’s head.

  “No one will dare to attack you here,” Sharlat said to me. She entered the ger with a calm that made me believe all of his family was unflappable and not just Armise.

  “Let us inventory,” Armise said to his aunt and cousin. “We can begin to separate out what we need and what can be used for trade.”

  As I watched him work with his aunt and cousin I finally understood what he meant when he said this was my war and he didn’t have a side in it.

  Hard work existed here, but not the pointless struggle of politics. Strife and hope coexisted, but not under the machinations of an insane power-hungry dictator. There was barter and negotiation, but over meat and bread instead of life and death. There was no privilege to flaunt.

  Armise was in this war because I’d drawn him into it. My presence, my insistence in seeing it through to the end was his calling, because he loved me. What the hell was I supposed to do with that?

  “I’m going to walk,” I said to them and picked up my rifle before Armise or any of them had time to disagree. Armise gave me a nod of acknowledgment and went back to work. I wasn’t worried about Dakra or whoever could be coming for me. If I disappeared then it would spare these good people a decision they shouldn’t be forced to make anyway.

  I trudged up the hill outside the village and over the crest, putting the village at my back. We’d followed the river from our first camp to here and I went back to it, but turned to the right, away from the mountains and away from the village. The water was of less volume here, farther away from the mountain source but just as clear.