by G. R. Lyons
“Are you strong enough?” he whispered.
“Hush.” She leaned up to kiss him and wrapped her arms around him. “You need this.”
Graeden plunged into her, the world falling away from his awareness as simple need took over. Zhadeyn opened up to him without any reservations for the first time since they'd been married, and he found himself unable to let go of her once he collapsed in relief.
Zhadeyn held him, rubbing his back while his heartbeat slowed and he got his breath back under control.
Several minutes passed before he managed to push himself off of her and collapse over onto his back, pulling her toward him so she lay with her head on his shoulder.
“Thank you for that,” he whispered.
He felt her answering smile against his shoulder as she rested a hand on his chest.
“Was everything alright today?” she asked.
Graeden nodded. “Just fine. They already sent a lot of people home. And Zevic wasn't there at all today, which was nice.”
Zhadeyn was silent, lying very still in his arms, though he could tell she was still awake by the brush of her eyelashes every time she blinked.
“You should sleep,” he whispered.
She shrugged. “I'm not very tired just now.”
They lapsed into silence, Zhadeyn growing more tense as the minutes passed. Graeden watched her, seeing her look deep in thought, almost troubled, but she made no effort to say anything.
“What are you thinking?” he asked slowly.
She hesitated, then mumbled, “What you did…for all those people…I just can't imagine…”
Graeden shrugged. “All part of the job.”
“Yes, but…you did it without hesitation. You put off your own needs to save other people's lives. No one here does a thing for others unless they're told to.” She paused. “Of course, that's all we're ever told to do. Things for others. Never allowed to do what we want for ourselves.”
“Exactly. That's the whole problem with this place. Force people to always put others before themselves, and they'll resent it, and put out a bare-minimum effort. Leave people free to pursue their own needs and interests, though, and they realize they have to appeal to the needs of others in order to receive their own needs in return. It creates a beautiful network of voluntary trade, all founded on self-interest. If you want something, you have to work for it, or earn it from someone else. But that means providing something to them in return. So, people are always striving to better themselves, making themselves more worthy of trade and interaction with their neighbors. Lazy people who sit back and beg for handouts, or rely on the government to beg handouts for them…Well, that only creates a system of slavery like you have here.”
Zhadeyn frowned. “So, if someone doesn't offer you something, you won't treat them?”
“No, not necessarily. I've taken plenty of free cases over the years, when the person was truly in need and simply couldn't afford treatment. Sometimes they come back later and pay what they can, because they respect the fact that I did them a service and want to make up for it somehow. Sometimes they don't, and I let it go. But I never treat someone who flat out demands service for free. If they can't respect the fact that I'm a human being also, and want to treat me like a slave by demanding I provide my time and expertise at no cost, then they can simply go elsewhere. I don't allow anyone mastery over my life…”
He trailed off, thinking, and shook his head.
“What's wrong?” Zhadeyn asked, shifting back and resting her head on a pillow to look at him.
“Just…” He shook his head again, breathing a laugh. “Maybe I do allow people mastery over me to some extent. I did it with– Well, you already know about that. From my nightmares.” Zhadeyn nodded, and he went on: “You know, I never actually wanted to be a doctor. That was my father's dream for me.”
“Then why did you?”
Graeden turned over onto his side to face her and pulled the sheets over them.
“My brother, Aurothi, ran away from home when he was ten–”
“What?” she gasped. “How?”
“Children are individuals, just like adults. Parents don't own their children like they do here. So long as he was under our parents' roof, he had to obey their rules, but he was having none of that. He wanted adventure, wanted to explore. So, one day, he just stuffed some clothes in a backpack and disappeared. We got a letter a few days later from a captain of the Libertas fleet, saying Auri had taken work as a deck swab on one of the ships. They were scheduled to sail the day we got the letter, so we didn't hear from Auri again for several months, until they returned to deliver cargo and take on passengers.
“After that, we saw Auri for only a few hours every several months when he came ashore to visit, and as the years passed, he worked his way up the chain of command. The captain loved him. Said he was the hardest worker he'd ever known. Must have been, because Auri is Commodore of the whole fleet now, and has command of all the ships.”
Zhadeyn looked at him curiously, so he projected an image of the New Haven docks, and all the ships anchored just offshore. His clearest memory was of seeing Libertas I in the midst of them all, dwarfing every ship around her, with her black-and-yellow flag snapping gaily in the wind.
“Those travel on water?” Zhadeyn asked.
“Mmhmm. It's the only way to get from one Isle to another, besides the Gates, of course. Or the renkana, but I've never actually seen one of those.”
“A what?”
“It's– Never mind. Anyway, after Aurothi left, I tried to do whatever I could to please my folks, to make them happy again. So, when it came time for me to choose school or work, I chose to study medicine, because my dad had always encouraged me to pursue it.” He paused, shaking his head. “I don't think I ever really stopped to think about it. I just knew that's what he wanted, so I did it. I mean, don't get me wrong, the human body is fascinating, and my work is very fulfilling, but…Well, then I finished my internship and started my job, and then the whole thing with Lorel, and…” He took a deep breath and sighed. “There was just never enough time to slow down and think about what I really wanted.”
Zhadeyn took his hand, rubbing her thumb over the backs of his fingers.
“And what would you do if you could start over?” she asked.
Graeden thought for a moment, then gave up with a shrug. “I really have no idea. I've just never allowed myself to think of it. There was always something there that demanded I just keep working.”
“What about…when you go back?” she asked quietly.
“I guess…” he began, giving another shrug, “we'll just have to wait and see.”
Zhadeyn looked thoughtful, and turned over to snuggle back against him, pulling his arms around her. Graeden kissed her shoulder and tucked the sheets around them as they settled down on the pillows.
“I don't want you getting out of this bed before ninth hour tomorrow, alright?” he whispered.
“But–”
“I can manage my own breakfast. I want you to rest. Alright?”
She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Alright.”
“Good.” He kissed her again and closed his eyes. “Goodnight, love.”
“Goodnight,” she whispered a moment later, just as Graeden drifted off to sleep with his head full of plans.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING evening, Zevic stormed into Zhadeyn's apartment and immediately slammed her up against the wall.
“Where is your husband?” he demanded.
Wide-eyed, Zhadeyn stifled a cry.
“I don't know,” she said, trembling. “He left before I woke…and he's late getting home…”
“Where is he?”
“I don't know! I don't know!” she cried.
“Did he say he was going anywhere? What did he tell you? What is he up to?”
“I don't know! Zevic, I swear. I thought he was at the hospital. He didn't say anything about leaving.”
Zevic slapped her across the fa
ce and threw her to the floor.
“When I find out where he's gone, I swear I'll beat him so bloody he won't be able to move! And as for you…”
Zevic aimed a kick at her belly, but Zhadeyn hugged herself, taking the blow to her arms instead. He reached down and grabbed her by the throat with one hand and punched her with the other, then shoved her aside and spat on the floor before turning to leave.
He reached the door and stopped, seeing Dr. Jase just walking in. The man came up short, eyeing Zevic suspiciously, and ran to Zhadeyn when he saw her on the floor.
“What in seven hells, Zevic?” he growled, helping Zhadeyn sit up.
“She's hiding something!” Zevic accused, pointing a finger. “Her husband is missing and she won't admit to where he's gone.”
“Because I don't know!” she cried, clinging to Dr. Jase. “I already told you, he left before I woke up. He must be at the hospital still–”
“Zhadeyn,” Dr. Jase murmured, “that's just it. He never showed up.”
Zhadeyn blinked, panting. “What?”
“I haven't seen him at all today. None of us have.”
“But…where would he go?”
“That's what I've been asking you,” Zevic barked, “but since you're not inclined to cooperate…”
He drew his hand back, but Dr. Jase got in the way.
“Don't you dare strike her again!” the doctor growled, shoving Zevic aside. “So help me, I may not like the idea that Graeden married one of your women, but you'd better be damned sure I'll defend her on his behalf if you so much as think about hurting her.”
Zevic considered punching the man, but as Dr. Jase was taller and clearly stronger, he thought better of it. Instead, he took a step back and pointed a finger at Zhadeyn.
“Four days, do you hear me?” he fumed. “If your husband is not back in four days, I'm declaring you an abandoned woman, and you'll be publicly beaten to death. Understand?”
Zhadeyn cowered and the doctor glared at him as Zevic turned and left the apartment, clenching his hands into fists as he stormed down the street under the Mother's moonlight.
He will pay, he thought. If he doesn't come back, I will find him, and oh! How he'll pay.
Chapter 24
AS NIGHT fell, Graeden curled up on a mattress on the floor in an abandoned apartment at the outskirts of whatever city lay just north of Vhais.
He'd gotten up before the suns, dressing in the dark while Zhadeyn slept, putting on extra layers and tucking another sweatshirt into the sack of food he'd already set aside for the journey. Unseen in the early-morning dark, Graeden had crept outside and made his way east until he found the river, then turned north and walked all day, only stopping to eat or relieve himself, or to duck into shadows when he thought someone was near.
He left Vhais behind and stumbled upon another city an hour later, several buildings near the river in piles of rubble, while those on the outskirts of town that remained standing were mostly empty. Graeden waited until full dark to make sure an apartment was not occupied before he ran to the door and let himself in.
The place was layered in dust, but at least he'd have a roof over his head for the night. After a quick bite from his meager stores, he found an old mattress in the back bedroom and hauled it off the broken frame, tossing it on the floor in a cloud of dust, then putting on his extra sweatshirt before curling up on the mattress and shivering his way into sleep.
He got up the next morning feeling not remotely rested, but rationed his food and set out again, keeping to the river as he continued his way north.
Just outside Vhais, he'd passed one boiler plant, and north of the next city he found another, both positioned near the river and drawing water from it to process. If the Pascatin was their primary water source, then there had to be a point at which the contamination began, especially if cities farther north didn't require boiler plants, as he'd been told.
As the sunslight began to wane, Graeden came upon a bridge that crossed the river to his right. He sat down on the end of it, so that he faced west, and pulled a chunk of dry bread out of his sack. He chewed slowly, taking some time to rest his legs, and looked around at the forest that surrounded him.
Directly ahead, connected to the bridge, was a well-worn path that wound its way toward a city, a few concrete buildings just visible through the trees. He leaned his head back to stretch his neck, and noticed a mountain in the distance.
Graeden stuffed the bread back into his sack and jumped up, moving to where the trees were thinner so he could get a better look.
He did the math, guessing how many miles he could have covered in two solid days of walking, and felt his jaw drop as he just made out a clearing up on the mountainside.
“Thank you, Granddad,” he breathed, checking his surroundings and planning an escape route, should the need ever arise. He tucked that bit of knowledge away for later and turned back to the immediate task at hand.
He stepped up onto the bridge and surveyed the area, wondering if he still needed to go farther north or retrace his steps. North of the bridge, he squinted into shadows and saw a deer lapping at the water while two birds bathed themselves in it, but south of the bridge, not a creature was in sight.
And there was a horribly rotten smell in the air.
Graeden crossed the bridge slowly, looking around to make sure no one was nearby, and crept along a path that wound through the trees on the other side. The smell got worse as he went, and just as he noticed the ground drop off suddenly several feet ahead of him, he knew exactly where the path led.
Covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve, Graeden crept forward and peeked over the edge, looking down on a pit of rotting corpses.
He choked and held his breath, trying to keep himself from vomiting, and looked again. Edging closer, he saw fresh corpses tossed on top of the pile, and recognized the rotting faces of some of the dead he'd identified just a few days before.
His sack hit the ground as he stared in shock.
“My gods, you fools,” he breathed. “You stupid, stupid, incompetent fools.”
He took a breath, felt his stomach lurch, and turned to vomit in the dirt. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, Graeden stood up, emptied his sack of the remaining food and stuffed it all into his pockets instead, then held his breath as he wrapped the sack around his hand and reached down into the pit.
* * *
ZEVIC KNELT before the Elders and bowed his head, trembling under their scrutiny.
Why haven't you found him yet? the chairman asked.
I'm trying, my lords, Zevic said, keeping his eyes on the floor. I've got word out to all the guards, but no one has seen him.
Well, search harder! the old man demanded. It was your idea to bring the Agori doctors here, Zevic. It does not reflect well on you that you've not managed to keep them in line while they're here.
But we have gotten him to marry one of our women, he reminded them. Surely that counts for something?
Not if he's vanished and doesn't come back!
But that's impossible, Zevic insisted, then winced as he felt the Elder's anger resonate through their mental conversation. Isn't it? The only way he could disappear for good would be to go through the Gate just outside this chamber, and he'd never be able to get past the guards.
Then how do you explain all the people who vanished up until thirty years ago? You were not alive then, boy, but people simply disappeared all the time back then. If this doctor knows another way off the Isle–
“You stop right there!” someone shouted from outside the room.
“Hands up!” another shouted. “You are not permitted here.”
What now? the chairman sighed. Zevic, go see to whatever is happening out there.
Zevic bowed his head and rose, quickly turning and hurrying toward the door. He threw it open and found two guards with their guns raised, trained on none other than the missing doctor.
“Dr. Graeden!” he gasped before he could stop himself.
Bring him in here, the chairman ordered.
Zevic took a deep breath and strode forward. “Stand down,” he ordered the guards. “The Elders wish to speak with him.”
The guards lowered their guns and stepped aside, letting Dr. Graeden pass. The man looked furious, and pushed right past Zevic and entered the Council chambers ahead of him.
“Close the door,” the chairman ordered, and Zevic obeyed while the doctor strode right up to the dais. “And you! You can stop right there.” Zevic turned and saw the doctor come to a stop in the middle of the room, a sack clutched in his hand and a few days' growth of beard on his face. “Explain yourself.”
“Perhaps I ought to ask the same of you.”
He untied the sack, turned it over, and dumped the contents on the floor.
Zevic clamped a hand over his mouth as what was left of a rotting human foot hit the floor with a squishy slap.
The Elders jumped back while the doctor stood there, fuming, hands in fists at his sides.
“You brought us here for answers,” he shouted, “and now you have some. You want to know why you almost lost a good chunk of your population last week? That is why!”
He thrust a finger toward the foot, and Zevic circled around to the doctor's side, seeing the fierce glare in the man's eyes.
“You leave bodies and all their diseases out to rot in the sunlight, where carrion feed on them, defecate upon them, giving bacteria and viruses a perfect place to grow and spread. You gods-damned fools! You are actively poisoning your own water supply! You're killing your own people with your own dead!”
Zevic looked up at the Elders, some of whom glared at the doctor, while others looked confused.
“But…the Pit doesn't touch the river–”
“Doesn't matter,” the doctor spat. “Water also runs underground. Rain would wash down anything on the bodies and soak into the dirt. Carrion would move pieces of the bodies from the Pit to who-knows-where else. Or are you all too backwards to know all that, too?”
“Dr. Graeden,” the chairman began, pointing a finger at him, “you had better watch your tongue or–”
