by Zen DiPietro
“Then I’ll consider.”
“Good. Is there anything you have left to do in Capital before we head back to the fortress?”
“Not really. I said my goodbyes to everyone last night. You?”
“Will asked me to go see Trent, who’s a master bowyer here. Work out a deal for supplies, if he can handle the volume.”
“You usually make your own.”
“My personal ones, sure. I’ll teach the Guard troops how to fletch, but that will take time. We need large amounts of premade supplies, and Trent’s work is flawless. We’ll be lucky if he can take us on.”
“You won’t be on the early monorail then?”
“No, my meeting with him is just before lunch. I’ll follow on a later run. Are you taking the monorail or your kite?”
“I didn’t realize you wouldn’t be on the monorail. I was planning to take it with you and put my kite in a cargo car.” She paused to consider. “I suppose I still will. It’s better for me to travel with the troops rather than above them, if there’s no particular need for haste.”
“You’re already thinking like a first officer. I’ll meet you in Apex, then. I expect I’ll be there by dinner.”
“I’m looking forward to hearing how it goes with Trent the Bowyer. I’m sure you’ll charm him right into whatever you want.”
“He’s not really Trent the Bowyer. He’s just Trent, who is a bowyer. But what makes you think I can so easily bend him to my will?”
“You’re very likeable. People love you.”
“Wow, I sound pretty great. So it’s just this innate charm that keeps you with me?”
“Not at all.” She patted her lips with a napkin and pushed her chair back before standing. “I’m only after your money.” She dropped her napkin to the table and started checking over her gear in preparation for her departure.
Arc popped the last bite of his toast into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. He did a good job of keeping his expression deadpan, but she recognized the humor underneath. “If I had any real money to speak of, I might think you meant that.”
Kassimeigh was surprised to find Izzy Gin at the monorail station, preparing to board. Kassimeigh noted Izzy’s bag slung over Carston’s shoulder, while he grinned down at her. They both straightened when she approached.
“Izzy! You didn’t tell me you were coming to Apex with us.” She quite liked the development.
“Will only asked me this morning. Short notice, but I don’t mind. I can manage the time. He wants my input on creating a recruitment department. Psychological testing for potential recruits and such.”
“It’s a good idea. Must be a new one, since he hadn’t mentioned it to me.” She stepped into the car, scanning its occupants and spotting Will standing near the back.
Izzy glanced toward him as well, before sliding into a window seat. “The poor man seems to have a lot to manage these days. I can’t even imagine trying to engineer an establishment like the Guard. Maybe he forgot to tell you, amidst all the chaos.”
“Probably,” she agreed.
“His to-do list might have finally reached critical mass,” Carston interjected with a grin as he stowed his and Izzy’s bags in the overhead bin. “Once he finishes the administrative structure, he’ll get things sorted out into a regular routine.”
“I heard you’re heading up recruitment,” Kassimeigh remarked, noticing how he seemed a bit oversized for the rail-car seat. Carston was only a few inches taller than she was, but he was broader than a hundred-year-old tree. He really didn’t strike her as a recruiter.
“Only in setting up the department. I’ll have to find someone to run it. Since I’m third in command, some of the administrative setup falls on me. But we’ll get it all fleshed out and working smoothly in no time.”
“So you and Izzy will be working together a bit.”
“Yup. It’ll be tough, but somehow we’ll make it work.” He put an arm around Izzy’s waist and she leaned against him, looking content. Kassimeigh could see that they definitely weren’t upset about the turn of events.
“Where’s Arc? I heard he joined up.” Carston craned his neck, searching the passersby. “Glad to have him. There’s no one better to head up the archery squadron. And I understand he’ll be fourth in the command structure.”
“He’s taking a later rail, so that he can handle some supply negotiations. I hadn’t realized everyone already knew about him joining. It only just happened last night.”
“Will mentioned it in passing. He’s up front if you want to take him to task.” Carston’s smile said he would be only too happy for her to lay into the general.
“Take him to task, no. Sorry to disappoint you. But I do think I’ll go talk to him and get the updates. I’ll see both of you later.”
She met Will in the front of the car and they sat in the last two side-by-side seats. He simmered with renewed enthusiasm, and spent the entire length of the trip telling her about his plans. He seemed entirely fired up and ready to move the world. Kassimeigh found it hard to resist his enthusiasm, and a bit of it bled into her, as well.
“I think Justin would make an excellent information officer,” she agreed. Will had told her that Justin was working with him on administrative affairs and demonstrated a knack for assimilating information quickly and sorting it into manageable pieces. “That would bring him into the senior command structure. Do you think—”
Her words were cut off by the suddenly vertical nature of her body. A deafening noise underscored her trajectory, but seemed less important.
On her way to slamming against the bulkhead of the car, she instinctively wrapped her arms around Will and wove a pocket of mana around them. She softened their landing on the side of the car, which now served as the bottom. On second thought, she threw a mana cushion around as many troops as she could at an instant’s notice.
After the gentle thud of impact, Kassimeigh disentangled herself from Will and stood, trying to make sense of the overwhelming aggregate of sensory information that flooded her. The entire rail car had been flung sideways and over. She didn’t see any major wounds on Will. Where was Izzy? She had to find her.
Guard members lay scattered about the car, along with a hodgepodge of belongings and gear. The chaos of the scene had an edge of unreality that she tried to shake off. People were hurt. Her ears rang from the hideous noise that, in retrospect, she believed had been an explosion.
“You’re okay?” she shouted to Will over the tumult.
“Yes.” He’d stood as well, and moved to help a troop to his feet.
She saw Carston stand and reach down. She breathed a sigh of relief when his strong arms helped Izzy up. She looked overwhelmed and confused, but relatively unhurt.
Will stepped toward the back of the car, assisting whomever he could. Good. Will and Carston would take control of things inside the car. That left her to see what was outside. Since the car was lying on its side, she couldn’t see anything but the sky through the windows above her.
Along with the windows, the door was now on the skyward side of the car, so she took a moment to rip it off with a burst of mana. Scaling a row of seats, she boosted herself out and stood atop the heap, getting her first look at the wreckage.
Behind them, a piece of rail line lay twisted and mangled. Ahead of them, the other end sprawled the same way. She’d never seen anything like it.
The four monorail cars lay across the ground in various states of destruction. Her own car, which had been just behind the lead car, seemed the least damaged. The third and fourth cars had been flung farther away and bore more signs of crushing stress.
The first car was another matter. The front and side had been ripped open along jagged edges of twisted metal.
People began to straggle out of the three other cars. Kassimeigh saw the flashing lights of emergency vehicles already streaking toward the scene. If the Guard had been farther along in the journey, beyond the mid-lats, help would not have come so quickl
y.
With far better medical help than she could provide on the way, Kassimeigh took a moment to concentrate on the scene from her vantage point. She sensed no mana other than her own and the signatures approaching in the emergency vehicles. That meant the device that had been used to blow the monorail line had been neither derived from nor powered by mana. She saw no one lurking, no one coming to attack. It must have been a bomb, then. A coward’s device.
Cold fury worked up Kassimeigh’s spine. Fighting to the death with hands and blade and even mana was one thing. Faceless, cowardly murder was another.
She could do nothing but try to help the people inside the cars. She crouched down and peered back into the car beneath her. She saw Will wrapping a bandage around a troop’s leg. She shouted to him that help was coming, then scooted to the edge of the car and slid to the ground.
She filled herself with mana and jogged to the lead car. She needed a safe way to get people out. She focused her mana on the dangerous, jagged edges of metal around the gaping breach at the front. Particle by particle, inch by inch, the front of the car dissolved. She unmade the vehicle until a safe, wide passage gaped before her.
She tethered the car to the ground with bands of mana. Now the workers could get inside without worrying about it shifting beneath them. As quickly as she could, she repeated the process of securing and opening the other three cars.
Emergency carts came to a stop nearby and exploded with workers, stretchers, and bags of medical supplies. Bystanders from a small local town had arrived as well and began to form a wall of gawking along the fringe. She ran back to the first car, slipping past the emergency workers while their leader barked out terse orders and people grabbed stretchers.
She stepped in through an open wound on the side of the car, preparing herself for anything.
Guard members littered the remnants of the car. Several weren’t moving. Splatters of blood marked the walls, as well as some of the seats. People moaned and called for help. She saw the palm of a hand half-buried under a pile of gear, but nothing more of its owner. She suspected the two were no longer attached.
Only one person seemed able to get himself to his feet. Kassimeigh recognized him as Bran Oswell, a childhood friend of Arc’s who had joined the archery squadron.
“Bran?”
“Kassimeigh.” He seemed relieved as he negotiated a few steps closer to her, grabbing seat backs for balance. “We got hit hard. What happened?”
She moved to put her arm around his waist to steady him. “A bomb on the line, I suspect. Either detonated remotely or on a pressure sensor when the monorail hit it. The other cars aren’t as bad as this.”
“I think we have some dead here. Hard to say. I don’t have any medical training. But some haven’t moved at all since we got hit.”
Ahead of them, a medical team peered cautiously into the car.
“Come out with me, Bran. We need to make room for these people to work. Can you walk?”
“I think so. May need to lean on you.”
“Anything you need.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she helped him limp out. She helped him to the triage station that had appeared, then joined a group of converging Guard members beside the fourth car. Izzy and Carston stood among them.
“Kassimeigh.” Will stepped forward and clapped a hand on her shoulder. A smear of blood stood out on the front of his uniform, but she didn’t think it was his. “Did you find anything?”
“Nothing but our own wounded. Whoever did this didn’t stick around.”
“Casualties?”
Based on what she’d seen, it seemed likely. “Unknown. The first car was hit hard. We might have some deaths.”
More emergency vehicles arrived, as did more gawkers. Kassimeigh was sure this would get coverage on all the comm channels. Whoever had done this would get the attention they had sought. And once she found them, they’d get a lot more.
Will found it ironic that such a monumental event only created a delay of a few hours. The Guard members who could be healed were made whole again. The Council began an investigation. The three dead Guard members’ bodies were released to their families. The monorail line was in the process of repairs, with Kassimeigh’s help. They would be complete within the hour. Once the line was judged safe, a new car would be dispatched to their location. Boarding a car outside of a station would be a novel experience for him, and would require some temporary ramps, but transporting everyone up to the next station via cart would be far more difficult.
He was lucky to have lost only three. If the response teams hadn’t rendered assistance so quickly, he would have lost nearly all the troops in the first car. They’d been riddled with bleeding wounds, broken bones, and ruptured organs. Losing three people under his command tore through him as a painful reminder of his responsibility. Consoling himself with how much worse it could have been failed to mitigate the loss. He felt each of the three deaths as a personal defeat.
Ina Trewe had already dispatched justices and manahi to investigate, and promised to provide any answers as soon as they came. That left Will with only his sense of failure. His troops deserved better. But there was nothing left but to go back to the fortress and train. Hard.
Will and Kassimeigh were the first ones to step into the new monorail car. Izzy had assured her that few of the troops had fears about boarding another car. She’d described a range of many feelings that no doubt would keep her busy with counseling sessions in the coming days, but fear of the monorail itself didn’t rank high among the traumas. The Council had ordered all of the lines checked and monitored, and no other bombs or tampering had been discovered.
The ride to the fortress echoed with silent grief. Kassimeigh and Will rode together but, like the others, they had nothing to say. Not only had they lost three good people, but witnessing an act of terrorism was a shock that none of them had ever thought they’d experience.
Kassimeigh couldn’t understand the violence and loss. Three families now had gaping holes where loved ones used to be. Why? What could be worth that?
She could do nothing to change the past. She couldn’t replace what was already lost, but she would try to atone for the negativity that happened today. She needed to save a life for each of the three lives lost today. No, more than three. She’d make the loss of their lives count for something, to serve as the impetus for something good and hopeful.
She shifted her attention to Izzy across the aisle. Her friend leaned against Carston, who gently smoothed her hair and murmured into her ear. Images of Arc filled Kassimeigh’s mind. She was glad he hadn’t been on the monorail and hadn’t been at risk when the bomb exploded, but she felt a strong urge to see him. She hoped he would not be too far behind them in arriving at the fortress.
A branch cracked, startling Élan out of her midafternoon doze. She’d become accustomed to the gentle sounds of the hinterlands, and this small noise stood out like a scream in a quiet room.
She leaped to her feet and scaled a tree with barely a thought. From this vantage point, she could see whoever approached. What she’d do when the person arrived, she hadn’t yet decided. But the question was rendered moot when she saw the familiar, wonderful sight of Sim’s rolling gait as he strolled into view.
Exhaling with relief, she swung down from the tree right in front of him. He drew back in surprise, then laughed and tangled her up in a hug.
“Hey, Chief! How’ve you been?”
She smiled at the use of his nickname for her. “Since we talked on the comm yesterday? Fine.”
“Thought you could use some company.”
She doubted that was the only reason. “I’m always glad for your company. But is that really why you’re here?”
“Well. Not entirely. I was worried about you.”
“Ah.” She led him to the spot where she’d been dozing. They sat on the pillows she’d scattered over a blanket.
“Mad?”
How could she be mad at
him when his concern warmed her heart? “Nope.”
“Good.”
They fell silent. She loved that about their friendship. Sometimes they didn’t need to talk to communicate. They just existed in the same space together.
“Do you think you’re in danger?” he asked after a while.
“From the terrorists?” Chatter on the comm had attributed the monorail bombing to the anti-bug movement, even though the Council had not yet released any official findings. She knew, though, from recent events, not to think too much of comm chatter.
“No, of becoming a lazy hermit who lives in the woods and has only trees for friends. Yes, of course the terrorists.” He gave her earlobe a light, teasing flick.
“Anything’s possible, but I’m not worried. They don’t know where I am, and few people want to be in the hinterlands. Even if someone did show up, I’d hear them coming. I doubt anyone would find me in the trees if I didn’t want them to. Besides, I’m not too bad in a fight.”
Sim stretched out and lay with his head on a pillow, gazing up at the tree canopy. “Yeah. I know. Mind if I hang out with you anyway? Just to make me feel better?”
“Not a bit.”
“That’s good, because I probably wouldn’t leave even if you did.”
Another silence fell and she stretched out beside him.
“What do you think of it all?” he wondered. His words floated up into the trees.
“I think new discoveries can be scary. Small people fight what they don’t understand.”
“That’s it? I really thought you’d be more upset.”
She turned on her side and propped her head on her hand so she could look at him. “That’s the funny thing. Whatever these terrorists do—if it is, in fact, terrorists—I know it doesn’t matter.”
“How’s that?”
“You need to get to know Kassimeigh better. She weirded me out at first, but now, I have faith in something bigger than myself.”
“That sounds really strange, coming from you. You’re not going to go dedicate yourself to the shiv order and start meditating all the time, are you? I bet you wouldn’t get to do much music.”
