"This is a really stupid idea," I say, crossing my arms as if that would settle the issue.

"There is no choice, Juno," Altair rebuts, crossing his own arms in mockery of mine.

We're standing in a secluded corner of Venecici Station, waiting for the next Engie to show up. The place is crowded, full of mutant beggars who carry all of their worldly possessions on their backs, looking to buy passage out of Venecici. Demand is high for such a passage right now, and supply in the form of space is low. 

The price is not cheap.

"We don't even know if this mythical lab still exists," I counter, keeping the argument going.

"Oh, it exists," Ursa mouths casually, sliding in beside Altair. "I just don't know what kind of a state it will be in. The mutants of Everwinter certainly had little love for the place."

I keep my expression unmoved.

"You're one of the two last humans, Juno," Altair points out in a hushed tone, as if I don't know it already. "Your responsibility to mankind supersedes any irrational fears you might have."

"Irrational!" I object, keeping my voice likewise low. "It's exactly because I am the last human that I want to stay as far from Everwinter as possible! You've heard the stories! The mutants there have white flesh because they live in perpetual darkness, no eyes because there's no light to see by, and they feast on the flesh of the living because there's nothing else to eat!"

"I heard they drink blood," Traylor adds, sarcastically. He's not on my side; he's actually excited to go to Everwinter. 

Altair puts a hand on my shoulder. "They're just stories, Juno. You said so yourself."

"How do you know?" I stubbornly continue. "Have you ever been to Everwinter?"

Altair sighs, clearly reluctant. He doesn't want to admit that he hasn't. "I have," he finally answers.

I'm taken aback. "Really? When?"

Ursa is next to me now. "I'd like to know as well," she says. "Not many people from Eversummer venture over to Everwinter. Even fewer come back. Why else do you think we chose to locate our lab there?"

Altair shrugs. "It doesn't matter. I'm an Assassin, and it was part of my job. That's all you need to know."

Ursa and I eye each other warily. I guess we aren't going to get a more satisfactory answer than that. Not yet at least.

A sudden, shrill whistling echoes throughout the vast open air space and, through a brick arch hanging over the track, the Engie bursts into view. There aren't many Engies left in Eversummer. I've seen the one in Krakelyn, but it broke down before I was born. Seeing one up and running is a bit of a thrill. This one is bullet shaped, red, and made up of a dozen similarly shaped compartments–some for passengers, others for cargo. Cattle and grain, mostly. There's some cattle on this Engie–the smell gives it away–but it's immediately clear that the people running things are not discriminating; they're packing on anyone who paid the hefty price to get aboard.

Not that many, considering how many people are waiting here. 

The conductors are mobbed by the poor masses, beggars wanting to be let on for a lesser fee or free altogether. One of the conductors screams for the lot of them to get back, raising a shooting iron into the air and firing it once. The crowd scatters, likewise screaming. 

The way is clear for us.

"That's our cue," Altair nods. We start moving.

"Hard to believe that that stupid Forerunner plow was enough to get all of us on here," I say, grumbling.

Altair looks at me warily. "That machine would normally be worth enough to get half the people in this station on board," he gestures. "Hard times."

"I guess," I say with a shrug. 

The man Altair had bargained with at the station had been pretty shocked when we pulled up in the plow after retrieving it from the jungle outside the city. He hadn't believed we really had one. Altair finds the same man now, standing with the conductors, and walks up to him. They exchange a few words, then the man smiles and points to a car near the rear of the Engie.

A cattle car.

"And yet, we can't afford a Prime Class seat," I grumble.

Altair rolls his eyes as he rejoins us, moving toward the back of the vehicle. "Not for four of us," he replies curtly. "Besides, there won't be as many people back here. It'll be better that way." He's talking about mine and Traylor's disguises. Altair made more of that grayish fruit paste and applied it to our faces. The fewer people that get a close up look at us, the better.

We reach our car, wide open on the side with a large sliding door, all smooth metal. The sounds and smells of pigs, horses, and cows attack our nostrils. I hear Traylor groaning mournfully. 

I smirk back at him. Not so fun now, is it?

Altair climbs up, a small stool provided as a step. He helps first Ursa, then Traylor aboard. I'm last. I look under the train as I step up. The bottom of the car is outfitted with two massive magnets, both of which repel and hold the vehicle in the air between two massive metal rails. The actual Engie is at the front, an oil fired motor spewing smoke and flame out the back. It’s thought that Engies were once powered by the sun. But that technology no longer exists. Current Engies are an amalgamation of Forerunner and Eversummer technology. That's why an Engie was allowed in Krakelyn, at one time. It couldn't be proven which parts of the technology actually belonged to the Forerunners, and the benefit of the doubt was given; a loophole exploited by more than a few Krakelyners. 

I ascend onto a straw strewn floor, littered here and there with animal droppings. The cattle are corralled in pens on either side of the car. I thank the gods that the animals aren't loose in here. There are six other people in the car with us–two per corner–leaving us with our own. We settle into it, stacking bales of straw to create a seating area. We sit, eyeing our co-passengers and munching on some rations we picked up in town.

"How far is it to the Fringes?" I ask, breaking the nervous silence.

I look at Altair, but it's Ursa who answers.

"Well, I've always traveled by the Fringeroad to Everwinter, but it's been years and I've heard that way is no longer safe. From Venecici, it took about five days by horse cart, three in an oil fired vehicle. I've never taken an Engie though."

"Engies are much faster," Altair offers. "It may only take a single day. I'd bank on two though."

Ursa's eyes widen. "It goes that fast?"

Altair nods.

I'm just trying to imagine something moving faster than an oil fired engine. The Forerunner plow had been plenty fast enough for me. This Engie is oil fired too, but it has no wheels and virtually no friction to contend with. I find myself excited to get going.

The conductors outside call for final boarding and, five minutes later, we feel the car begin to lurch. A powerful whine issues as the Engie powers up. The side doors on the car slam shut, immersing us in semi-darkness. There are thin open slots on the side of the car, letting in light and fresh air. My eyes adjust quickly. That shrill whistle issues once more and we're finally off, the sensation of increasing speed rising with my heart rate. Through the side window slots, shadowy objects slash by at an alarming rate, but I can't make out any details.

Traylor pulls a hay bale close to the wall and sticks an eye against one, peeking out. "Wow!" is all he says. 

At least he has something to keep him entertained.

I can't hold my curiosity back either.

I move over toward Traylor, stumbling a bit, not used to moving around on an already moving surface. I join him on the hay bale and peer out. Green blurs and grey smears blast across my vision. I focus on one in the milliseconds it takes to pass, seeing one of those tall trees with the broad leaves on top. The grey blurs are rock faces in the background. I'm used to the geography of this area by now, and while I no longer find it as fascinating, the speed at which we're traveling makes me queasy. I pull away and stumble back to my original hay bale, bending prone.

"Give it a moment," I feel Ursa's hand on my back. "It will pass. It's called sickness of motion. Most people experience it their first time."

I look over at Traylor, but he seems none the worse for wear.

Ursa shrugs with a smile. "Your brother is an anomaly, it would seem."

"You can say that again," I agree.

I look around the car at the other passengers. A few are watching us–including a scruffy looking dude with weeping sores–but they look away when my eyes find them. They give me the creeps. If it wasn't for Altair, I'd be pretty nervous on this trip.

To take my mind off the nausea, I turn back to Ursa. "We haven't had much time to talk since this all started," I say, conversationally. "There are a lot of things I'd like to ask you."

Ursa nods. "I thought you might." She stares at me expectantly.

I smile at her openness and begin. "How do you know my Father?" I ask. "Because from everything I know of the man, you are exactly the type of person he'd send to Judgment Square for heresy." I hesitate. "And he doesn't usually discriminate." The faces of both my Mother and Thomas Whiskeyjack flit through my mind.

Ursa clears her throat. "Well, to start, your Father is a famous man, even outside Krakelyn. Before I met him, I'd heard of him long before. Any man who would condemn his own wife to Judgment is certainly deserving of that notoriety."

I stop breathing, shocked. "I guess that shouldn't surprise me," I say. "It's not talked about much anymore, but everybody does seem to know the story."

"Do you, um, remember your Mother?" Ursa asks timidly. "Do you remember it happening?"

I shake my head. "I do remember my Mother, sort of, but I was very young when she died. I have images of her in my head, feelings, I guess. But I don't really know how accurate they are. She wasn’t around much." I pause. "My Father had sketches of her. Portraits. They probably influenced my perception of her."

Ursa nods, pulling her lips in. "A beautiful woman she was, with one unfortunate flaw. She managed to keep it hidden for years, even from your Father."

"She was missing a toenail," I reply, eyes downcast.

"You knew?" Ursa says.

I nod. "Yeah. Everybody in Krakelyn knows about it. It's practically legend. I never knew if my Father knew about it before it all went public though."

"He did, eventually," Ursa replies quickly. "And that's why he came to me for help. I was astonished. What he was asking me was in direct conflict with the religion he so fervently touted. In the end, I guess his love for your Mother won out over it."

I raise an eyebrow. I feel like Ursa is describing a man I've never met in my life. "Ok, but... How did he know you?"

Ursa hesitates, organizing her thoughts. "The people I was working for had a reputation. We were doing experiments on mutants in Eversummer, which was becoming an issue. Tampering with the human genome is Forerunner science and, as you know, the ways of the Forerunners are the ways of death. Riots broke out. Your Father led the charge to shut us down."

"That sounds about right," I confirm with a sheepish smirk. "What happened next?" I ask, the air suddenly feeling thick.

"To my astonishment, after shutting us down, your Father approached me and asked for my help," Ursa replies. "He begged me. He...he said if I did this thing, he would make sure our work continued at a more secure location. The lab in Everwinter."

I gasp. I hadn't known it, but I am right now traveling in my Mother's footsteps! My heart warms at the thought.

"Accept the proposal I did," Ursa continues. "And my closest colleagues came with me. We set to work on our mutation cure once more, using your Mother as our test subject."

My jaw is nearly on the floor. I hadn't known any of this! All this time, and I’d thought my Father heartless and cruel for Judging my Mother in the name of his so-called gods. I guess I was wrong. He'd actually blasphemed, going against his own dogma to try and save the woman he loved.

I suddenly wish my Father was here now.

"It didn't work though, did it?" I ask, the answer obvious but...

Ursa shakes her head. "We never had a chance to complete our experiments. We were driven out of Everwinter by the mutants and returned to Eversummer. It was during this time that the truth about your Mother came to be known publicly."

"How?" I ask, on the edge of my hay bale. Traylor has turned around too now, eyeing the mutant woman closely.

Ursa shakes her head. "I never knew exactly. At the time, it didn't matter to me. My experiments were over. The wrong people found out about your Mother's mutation, and the truth got out. Your Father had little choice."

"He Judged her," I whisper, tears welling up. 

Ursa nods. "If he didn't, your whole family would have fallen, especially with your Father being the High Deacon and all."

I shake my head, feeling anxiety at the terrible decision my Father had had to make. "Who did it?" I ask, anger suddenly rising to replace the sadness.

"Who did what, Juno?" Ursa asks, confused.

"Who ratted my Mother out?" 

Altair shifts uncomfortably, moving for the first time since the ride began. 

Ursa eyes the man warily. "I don't know, and it really doesn't matter, Juno," she says. "What's done is done."

"Well that's a bloody copout!" I protest, raising my voice a little too high.

"Ursa is right," Altair interjects, putting a hand on my shoulder as he moves beside me. "Knowing won't bring your Mother back. It will only make you grow bitter and hateful toward the person who did it. Trust me, I know."

I scowl at Altair hard. "You sound like you know who it is." Altair rolls his eyes. "Well, do you?"

Altair nods reluctantly. "Your Father has told me, but it doesn't matter, Juno. The person responsible has suffered for it. Trust me in that."

I huff, and even Traylor's in on the argument now. "We deserve to know!" he wails. "I'm with Juno on this!"

Altair crosses his arms. "I'm sorry, guys, but this is something you're better off not knowing. That's my final word on it. Okay?"

I stick my tongue out at Altair, and Traylor laughs. I get up and join my brother on his hay bale, both looking outside again. 

The landscape has changed dramatically in the few hours since our journey began. Lush tropical vegetation has given way to bleak stone outcroppings covered by occasional shrubs and moss. With a gasp, I realize that the sun is actually getting lower on the horizon! I've never seen it this low in my life!

We really are headed to Everwinter, land of eternal darkness.

This Engie only travels to the Fringes–the last bastion of Eversummer civilization. It is said that mutants who are discovered in Eversummer often flee to the Fringes before they can be Judged, seeking sanctuary in the far flung villages where the rule of the True Body Plan is less oppressive. 

Less oppressive, but not absent. 

The Engie's shrill horn suddenly sounds; three long, hard blasts. The warning repeats. "What does that mean?" I ask, whirling back toward Altair and Ursa. They both look clueless, however. I glance over to one of the other corners in the car where a pair of mutants is quickly rummaging through a rucksack, producing a familiar looking tank and mask.

Air!

"I think we're entering a patch of Bleaklands!" I announce, turning back. Altair looks despondent, but he relaxes when Ursa pulls out her own portable breathing cylinder.

"I don't know how much longer this tank will last," Ursa announces, "but we can share it and hopefully make it through the Bleakpatch. It shouldn't take long for the Engie to cross it."

Unless it's a really big one, I think but don't say.

We wait and, indeed, as the Engie enters a steep walled canyon, the air becomes noticeably thinner, harder to breathe. Traylor takes the first shot of air, followed by me, then Ursa herself. Altair holds off for the moment. It's still possible to breathe, but it's growing more difficult. 

His face is going purple.

The Engine continues and we each take a few more breaths, Altair only taking one for every three we take. Ursa shakes the cylinder, her eyes fearful. We don't talk, as that would waste air, but the implication is obvious. Our supply is getting low.

I look over and a few of the other passengers are passed out completely. There's nothing that can be done for them until we're out of this though. The scruffy looking mutant man and his companion are fine, sharing their tank with regularity. We're rationing as best we can, but we're all growing weaker. Bleaker.

Three more blasts of the whistle.

We're outside the patch!

Altair springs to his feet, nearly stumbling, grabbing the sliding door on the car and flinging it open. Air rushes in. There's not much of it at first, but the breeze grows steadily stronger. Breathing becomes easier. Altair collapses by the door, exhausted.

I see movement. 

I turn to see the scruffy man and his companion getting up. I grow tense, ready to call out to Altair, but the men are only going to the other people in the car, offering them their air. I smile broadly at the gesture. It seems there still are good people left in this world...

I hear a sharp cry of pain and turn again to see the scruffy men wailing on the unsuspecting passengers, kicking them in the gut and face. Their victims go limp. I push up off the hay, readying myself for a confrontation, but my head swims. I fall to my knees immediately.

The scruffy men go over to the other corner where two more mutants, a man and a woman are stirring. They converse with the newcomers who get to their feet, their own breath tank now visible among their possessions. The new group of four share a laugh, then turn toward us.

These people are working together!

I hear a pained grunt and turn to see Altair stumbling weakly to his feet. With each breath I feel my strength returning, but it's not fast enough. Traylor and Ursa are like me, prone on the ground. Ursa is offering Traylor the last breath from her tank.

"No need to get up," one of the men sneers at Altair, landing a boot square in the man's stomach.

"NO!" I call out in protest. Another of the men laughs, grabbing me by the hair and pushing me down. Ursa and Traylor are likewise handled roughly. The bandits start going through our things.

"Spit ashes!" I curse at the one that grabbed me, actually spitting at the man.

"Enough!" the man counters, raising an open palm and slamming it hard against my cheek. Instantly, I feel the dried fruit and mud paste crack against my skin, falling away. 

My disguise.

"What the bloody ashes is this?" the man asks, kneeling down to take a closer look. He reaches out and grabs my cheek, peeling away more of the mask, revealing the unblemished skin beneath. The man's face goes pale as he stands upright, hand to his mouth. "You... You're not a mutant," he says in shock. "You're... You're..."

"Human," I finish for him between gritted teeth. "The last human." I look over at Traylor. One of the bandits–a woman–is poking at his mask now too.

The man above me has a knife in his hands, pointing it directly toward me. "Gods!" he exclaims to his companions. "Do you guys know what we could get for her! Aren't the Children of Mutanity looking for a human?"

The woman shrugs. "I thought that was just a story to justify their brutality?"

"So did I," the scruffy man agrees. "I– Hey!"

The formless lump on the floor that had originally been Altair is now a blur, hands striking the woman, then the man next to Ursa, taking them both down in seconds.

The man above me snarls, grabbing my arm and moving the knife toward my throat. "NO!" I scream yet again and, without thinking, put my full weight forward, striking his stomach with surprising force. He stumbles backward, straight out the open door of the Engie compartment.

But he's not alone.

He's got me by the tunic and doesn't let go, taking me with him as we fly off into oblivion.

 

 

 

 

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..."

 

 

 

 

22.

 

The grassy plain ripples with a soft warm breeze blowing in from the ocean. The young man lets the air hit him, breathing it in with a hearty smile.

Freedom!

He never thought he'd be free again.

They'd have to stay here, of course–probably for the rest of their lives–but as far as he was concerned, that’d be just fine. The sun stays just above the horizon on the Fringes of Eversummer, its rays not as harsh as they are further west. That’s good, because his eyes are sensitive. They all have sensitive eyes. He'd been taken from Everwinter at a young age–they all had–and so his eyes hadn't time to adapt to living in total darkness. Some might consider that a blessing.

Ha!

If only they knew what he and the others had been through…

"Hey! You! Can you help me?"

Startled, the young man whirls, ready for anything, mind reeling. He’s never seen anybody else out here yet. Dead ahead, the straight, unwavering line of the Engie tracks crosses from horizon to horizon.

And somebody is coming from that direction.

An Engie passed here not more than an hour ago. 

"Hey!" the voice calls again, high pitched, adolescent. "Can you hear me?” The voice belongs to a young boy, dashing toward him through the grass. The boy's forehead is covered in bloody streaks, but he seems none the worse for wear. There's also a strange, clumpy grey substance on his skin, a growth of some sort. But there are clear patches as well.

A new mutation?

Anything is possible now that mutations are the norm. 

"Yes, I can hear you!" the young man calls back. He breaks into a trot, covering the distance to the boy in minutes. The boy looks winded but happy to see him, eyeing the young man warily. 

He's probably never seen a mutant like me before, the young man thinks. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"This way," the boy says, leading him back toward the Engie tracks. "My sister is hurt."

Sister? The young man thinks, suddenly suspicious that this might be a trap of some sort.

But who would set up a trap out here? 

Nobody lives out here anymore.

The boy comes to a trampled section of grass. The first thing the young man sees is blood. It's everywhere, splashed all over the grass. The second thing he sees is the body; a large, man-sized hulk, motionless on the ground. And finally, he sees the sister this little boy is worried about. She's on her back on the grass, unconscious, dripping blood from a wound on her side. He kneels down beside the girl, dumbstruck by her rose red hair and remarkable beauty.

He does a double take.

This girl is not a mutant!

"Yeah, I know," the boy nods, pointing to his sister. He reaches up and peels some of the grayscale from his own cheek. "See? It's just a disguise. We're human. The last ones left, we think. Please, mister, can you help her?"

The young man hesitates, pulling himself together. He puts his arms under the girl, lifting her onto his shoulder.

"Come on," he says, "we have to get her someplace safe."

And that’s how Traylor met Tien. 

 

 

 

 

23.

 

She opens her eyes.

Every muscle in her body aches, as if she's been thrown through a rock tumbler. She sits up, finding her surroundings to be completely unfamiliar. Grass? Plains? Blood! The grass around her is splashed with red. She immediately starts feeling her own body, searching for a mortal wound.

There is none. The blood isn't hers.

Then whose is it?

Ursa turns where she's sitting, looking for some clue as to what's going on...and finds it. Not more than ten feet behind her, a pair of dual rails is set into the ground, stretching from horizon to horizon.

Engie rails.

We fell off the Engie!

It all comes flooding back to her.

They were on the Engie when it passed through a Bleakpatch, their air nearly running out. When it was over, they were weakened, ripe for the plucking by the bandits that had stolen aboard the Engie with them. The bandits had had full breath tanks. They weren't weakened. They'd advanced on her friends, one pulling a knife on Juno.

And that's when all hells had broken loose.

Juno had screamed, tackling the man with the knife, knocking them both right out the Engie door. Traylor, heroically, had called out for his sister and leapt immediately after her, without a moment's hesitation. The remaining bandits, angered, had then advanced on Ursa and Altair, all seeming lost...

Somehow, Altair had struck back, managing to knock out the woman bandit. But then the two remaining men had overpowered him. They were about to throw him off the moving Engie when Ursa had intervened. She still doesn't know where she'd drummed up the courage.

She'd leapt, striking both men in a tackle as they'd struggled with Altair at the car's edge. All four of them had tumbled outward.

It was all black after that.

Ursa shakes her head, coming back to reality. Her heart is pumping a mile a minute.

Where are the others?

She gets to her feet, stumbling. Immediately, she spots a body; one of the bandits, his head twisted at an awkward angle.

Good.

"Juno! Traylor! Altair!" she calls out, not caring whether someone unfriendly hears it. She has to find her friends! She has to–

"Unnnnhhhh...."

Ursa freezes, the moan coming from her left.

She steps gingerly, wary that the noise might belong to one of her attackers.

But it's not one of the attackers.

"Altair!" Ursa exclaims, seeing the young man lying on his back, eyes half open to the sky. He's alive! 

"Altair!" Ursa calls again, falling to the Assassin's side. She grabs him by the shoulders. "Altair! Wake up! You're alive! You're–" Ursa cuts off with a gasp. In her excitement, she'd shaken Altair a bit, causing his head to loll sideways.

It’s soaked in blood, pooling under the man's cheek.

Ursa cries out in horror.

 

 

 

 

24.

 

I open my eyes.

My first thought is that I'm comfortable.

Really comfortable.

The mattress beneath me is soft, feathery, the light sheet covering my body smooth and cool against my skin.

Against my skin?

I sit bolt upright, the blanket flying off my body at the same time. I look down, and my fear is confirmed: 

I AM BLOODY NAKED!

I scream, and I'm answered by another, almost like an echo. This scream is deeper though, masculine.

I look up.

The creature that sits in an easy chair at the end of an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room is unlike anything I've ever seen. Its skin is pale, a pure white, matching the shaggy locks of snowy hair hanging in its face. The hair partially masks a pair of eyes that are brown with a reddish gleam to them. The creature wears a loincloth and a brown, rough spun robe, hanging open, revealing an exceedingly emaciated body. My eyes fall to its feet–human-like–but much larger, each one sporting six long, curled digits.

It has six toes!

I gasp, recalling the six-toed footprints on the beach in Krakelyn and outside of Ursa's now destroyed lab in Venecici.

Is this the creature that belongs to them?

The thing looks at me with its head cocked sideways, reminding me of an eagle eyeing its prey. Panicking, I pull the sheet back up over my body, looking around.

"Where are my clothes?" I ask, thinking of nothing better to say. Though its appearance is off-putting, this creature strikes me as timid. The creature, formerly smiling (I think), puts an embarrassed look on its face, literally leaping from its chair. 

"Oh, I'm sorry!" it says in a shockingly normal, human male voice. "Here! Here!" He ducks down then pops up from the side of the bed, holding my tunic top, pants, belt, and sandals, keeping his eyes off of me. "Sorry about that," he says, "but it was necessary."

Scowling, I rip my clothes from his grasp and pull them under the sheet with me, getting dressed immediately. "Necessary for what?" I ask with a sneer. I reach down to slip my pants on and feel a tender tugging at my side. I look down to see where a massive gash in my torso has been sewn expertly shut by the cleanest stitches I've ever seen. My blood stains the sheets beneath me. I flip the sheet off, still naked on the upper half of my body, spinning the wound toward this strange young man. 

"Did you do this?" I ask, pointing at the stitches.

The mutant nods, then shakes his head. "I sewed it shut, if that's what you mean," he answers timidly. "I didn't give you the wound."

I laugh, despite myself. "Yeah, that's what I meant." I pause, meeting those reddish brown eyes. "Thank you."

The young man nods sheepishly, still keeping his eyes off my half naked form. "You're welcome."

I grab my pants and finally slip them on. "Where are we?" I ask, really taking in my surroundings for the first time. This room is clearly a bedroom; there are windows, but the drapes are drawn shut. I step over to the nearest one.

"Where are the other people I was with?"

"People?" the mutant asks as I open the drapes. "I'm sorry, but there was only one other person with you when I found you. Well, actually, he led me to you."

"Who?" I ask, spinning. I've just opened the drapes and catch a glimpse of the outside world. It’s not very interesting. Just a sea of grass, as far as the eye can see.

"Um, a little boy," the mutant replies. "He said his name is–"

"Traylor!" I finish, almost screaming.

"Juno?" a familiar voice squeaks from just outside the room. The door bursts open and there stands my little brother, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. "Juno!" he says, running to me, practically knocking me down with a hug. The stitches pull at my side. 

"Ow! Take it easy, buddy!" I say. "I'm happy to see you too." I smile at him. "You saved me."

Traylor shakes his head. "Nah, that was nothing. It was Tien here who did the real lifesaving. You shoulda seen the way he stitched you up, Juno!"

Tien is standing timidly on the other side of the room, blushing and not meeting our eyes. He says, "I couldn't let one of the last two humans bleed out now, could I?"

I gasp, reaching up to my face, realizing that my disguise is washed clean off. Same with Traylor. My brother sees my panic. "Don't worry, Juno," he soothes, "Tien is good people. They all are here."

"Here?" I echo. "Yeah, just where is here?"

Tien finally meets my gaze. "About a hundred wheels from the Fringes," he replies. "My brothers and I have lived here almost our whole lives."

"You're from Everwinter, aren't you?" I ask, recalling descriptions of Everwinter mutants from stories that gave me the creeps as a child.

Tien nods reluctantly. "I was. We all were. But we were taken when we were young, brought to this place. As a result, we haven't developed all of the traits of a typical Everwinter mutant."

I shake my head, not really understanding any of it. "Yeah, you still haven't told me what this place is," I intercede, getting annoyed. I look out the window again and still see nothing but the plains. There is literally nothing out here.

Tien hesitates, so Traylor speaks up for him. "It's a school, Juno!" he says. "For mutants!" 

My jaw drops, completely incredulous. "Say that again.”

Tien remains sheepish.

"Some scientists from Eversummer built this place," Traylor speaks again. He's had quite a history lesson during my recovery, apparently. "Then they took some mutant kids from Everwinter," he gestures to Tien, "and brought them here to educate them like would in Eversummer! They wanted to see if they were just as smart as we are! That's right, isn't it, Tien?" Traylor stares at his new friend.

Tien shrugs. "Um, basically, yeah," he replies. It sounds a little farfetched to me, but I don't press it.

"Traylor," I say. "Where are Ursa and Altair?"

Traylor seems to shrink, his good cheer drained away. "I don't know," he says. "Tien and a few of the others went out to search for them near the Engie tracks but... Nothing. So far."

I nod, expecting the answer. "We have to find them," I say. "And as soon as possible." I head for the door but stop, staring at Tien.

"Well?" I say. "Aren't you gonna show me around?" Tien brightens immediately, seeming to grow a foot taller.

"Oh, of course," he says. "Sorry, Juno. Right this way."

Traylor rolls his eyes at me and makes a kissing face with his lips. I move to slap him, but it's a half-hearted gesture.

We follow Tien into the house.

 

 

 

 

25.

 

The first thing I notice is that I've just left the cleanest room in the building.

We're in a hallway on the upper floor. 

There are doors all along its length, most hanging wide open, revealing rooms that are messy, cluttered, or destroyed. We pass one where a young mutant man stands naked, pulling on a soiled pair of black tunic pants. He snarls at our approach, slamming the door shut.

"Sorry," I say with practiced sarcasm.

Tien looks back at me with a smirk. "Try not to be offended," he says. "Most of my brothers have not had contact with an outsider in years."

"Really?" I ask, shocked and confused. "I thought this was a school run by outsiders, Tien?"

Tien turns away and walks a little faster, giving me the feeling he'd said something he shouldn't have. "This way," is all he says.

As we move deeper and deeper into the Manse–for that is what this place is, comparable in size to my own home in Krakelyn–the feeling that this place is not a school grows stronger within me. There's garbage everywhere, for one thing.

Food, clothing, dirt, grime.

And it seems like Tien is the only civilized resident.

"How long did you say you've been living here?" I ask as we descend a massive, curving staircase to the bottom floor. From the condition of the place, it doesn't seem like they've been living this way for long. The mess I'm seeing looks fairly fresh. 

Since the Final Judgment, perhaps. 

"Hey, Jurid!" Traylor calls, waving to an excitable young mutant who runs up to greet us as we reach the main floor.

"Traylor!" Jurid slurs through crooked lips. His eyes fall onto me, growing wide. "Is this your sister?" he asks, staring hungrily.

"Yeah, that's Juno," Traylor replies, as if he doesn't care. He's too cool for me now that he knows I'm alright.

"Good to meet you, Juno!" Jurid practically screams, holding an emaciated white hand out to me. I take it, shivering at the coldness of his flesh. He looks a lot like Tien.

"You too," I say, ending the handshake quickly then closing my fist to warm it up. I sneak a look at his feet. No shoes. And six toes, like Tien. Well, at least now I know that all Everwinter mutants have six toes. Images of the footprints on the beach and outside Ursa's lab haunt me once again.

We enter a community kitchen of some sort, with long tables and trays of food scattered about, most having been picked over or dumped completely. The leavings are not picked up. A few of the boys are in the midst of a food fight, but when we enter and make our presence known, it stops immediately, all eyes falling upon us.

Falling upon on Tien.

It could be my imagination, but I think I read jealousy in a lot of those faces. Faces a lot like Tien’s.

"Well, Tien?" a voice calls out from the back. "Are we civilized, or are we savages? Aren't you going to introduce us to our guests?" It was a tall young mutant who had spoken. He looks older than the rest, with hair so white it's nearly blue hanging to his butt. His eyes are redder too, cold and calculating.

Tien pushes his way to the front of our little procession.

"Sorry, Dura," he calls out, stepping up onto one of the tables in the middle of the kitchen.

"Dura is like our, um, unofficial leader," Jurid whispers to me, winking when I look at him. I nod but say nothing. I feel like he's undressing me with his eyes. 

And he's not the only one.

I realize then that I'm really lucky that Tien was the one that found and took care of me here.

"Brothers!" Tien calls out. "By now, you all know Traylor Quinn." He gestures to my little brother theatrically. "Now, I'd like you to meet his sister, Juno Quinn! Together, they are the last two humans to survive the Final Judgment!" 

I can see that Traylor is expecting some sort of dramatic fanfare from that little speech, but all I hear is grumbling–mostly about how they’re gonna have to feed us now too. I look around again, noticing that most of the residents here are emaciated. They're not getting enough to eat. Wasted food lies everywhere, rotting. Whatever happened in this place, these boys were left to fend for themselves without an inkling of how to do so.

I feel bad for them.

I step up on the table beside Tien.

"Hi, I'm Juno," I say with a timid wave. "Look, my brother and I don't want to be a burden on you. We'll be on our way once we find the friends we lost when we fell from the Engie." I pause, seeing I now have their undivided attention. "Um, I guess there's no denying that Traylor and I are the last humans. We're on a mission, I guess you'd call it. To save human kind from extinction. We have to get to Everwinter." Shocked murmurs erupt from the crowd. "We don't expect anything from you," I continue over the noise, "but I do need to ask of you one thing." I breathe deep. "Please, keep our existence a secret. I know you probably don't get many visitors out here but... It's imperative that we keep ourselves hidden. A lot of, um, people, want us dead. They don't want the old world to come back. Frankly, I tend to agree with them. I hated that old religion. But that's not why we're doing this. We're doing this because if we don't, the human race will be extinct within a generation." The crowd gasps, and I hear murmurs of disbelief. "You see, that's the greatest tragedy of the Final Judgment. You're all sterile now, every mutant in the world, and–"

"But we've always been mutants," Dura's voice echoes from the back of the room, overpowering mine. Silence descends for a few moments.

"Yes, but–" I start to say, then realize I don't know for certain that all mutants are sterile–just the ones that were created during the Final Judgment. These boys were mutants all along, born that way in Everwinter. I study the faces around me. They all share the same pale gaunt features, and reddish eyes, but they don't have boils or tumors like everyone else.

I puff myself up. "Dura, is it?" I ask, my eyes now glued to the tall mutant boy, almost a man, in human terms. Dura nods, stepping forward. I'm still standing on the table, but when Dura reaches me our eyes are level. 

"Yes," he replies sternly.

I hesitate, unsure of how to proceed. "Obviously, you guys know about the Final Judgment, right?" Dura nods, supported by the others around him. "And, um, did you guys see what happened to the, um, normal people when it happened?"

Dura huffs in frustration. "We have eyes, Miss Quinn," he sneers sarcastically.

"Right," I agree. "Well... Did anything happen to you guys during the Final Judgment? What I mean is: did you acquire any, um, new mutations?"

Dura laughs, shaking his head. "I forget you have never encountered an Everwinter mutant before, Miss Quinn. To answer your question bluntly, no, the Final Judgment had no physical effect on me or my brothers whatsoever."

I brighten, a smile breaking out. "That's good news!" I announce. "That means you guys probably aren't sterile!" I watch Dura's face for a reaction, but he remains cold. In that moment, a terrible thought occurs to me. Does this mean that every Everwinter mutant isn't sterile?

It's a scary notion.

If the mutants of Everwinter–a people marginalized by the humans of Eversummer for centuries–get wind of this, they could rise up and wipe out humanity in its weakened state. Our sheer numbers were the only thing holding Everwinter at bay all this time.

"That is good news," Dura agrees with me. "For us." He gestures to his brothers. "If you knew the way your kind treated have us in this facility, Miss Quinn..."

I blush, embarrassed somewhat by my candor, but I don't let it stop me. "I thought this place was a school," I say, turning to eye Tien warily.

Dura's gaze also finds Tien. "What have you been telling them?" he asks, teeth bared.

Tien shakes his head. "I was trying to protect the boy." He gestures to Traylor, standing below him at the table.

"From what?" Dura laughs. "This world is no longer a place for youthful innocence." He hesitates, considering. "Why don't you take them outside, Tien?" Dura suggests. "Show them where our 'education' took place."

Tien seems to deflate, eyes downcast. He doesn't argue. "Yes, Dura," he agrees, stepping down from the table. His eyes meet mine. "Come on."

Reluctantly, still scowling at Dura, I step down too, grabbing Traylor and following Tien out of the mess hall. The place is eerily calm. The mutant boys glare at us the entire time we leave, some licking their lips, others whistling at us shrilly.

Whistling at me.

I can't wait to get the bloody ashes out of this place.

 

 

 

 

26.

 

My first reaction is: how the hells hadn't I seen this before?

"Did you know about this?" I ask Traylor, pointing.

Traylor shakes his head, turning back toward the Manse, dead grass crunching under his sandaled feet. "No, I... I guess..."

"We kept you on the far side of the house," Tien explains as if he is deeply ashamed. “So you wouldn’t see it.”

"Yeah, I guess that's right," Traylor nods. "I never noticed."

I turn back toward the grassy plain.

Before us stands a massive metallic dome, rising out of the landscape like a bubble. Like a maggot. 

"This is where they experimented on us," Tien explains. My heart sinks, my suspicions about this place confirmed. This isn't a school for mutants. It's a school where humans could learn about mutants–by doing things to them.

I shudder and feel the tears welling up.

"I'm so sorry, Tien," I say, taking his cold, pale hands in my own. His eyes meet mine for once, and I see a surprising amount of compassion within. Humanity. He eyes me like he loves me. 

And, I have to admit, that doesn't feel like a bad thing.

"Would you like to see it?" Tien asks, gesturing toward the dome.

I'm stunned, having trouble finding words. "I... I..."

"Hells, yes!" Traylor bellows, eyes wide.

"Traylor!" I scowl at the boy, mortified. "I don't think that–"

"JUNO! TRAYLOR!"

We all whirl to the left, stunned by a new voice.

I almost faint.

It's Ursa!

"Gods you two!" the woman screams. "Am I glad to see you! I need help! NOW!"

Ursa is drenched in blood.

 

 

 

 

27.

 

"The last human was here," Blaine says, getting up from the kneeling crouch he'd used to examine the body. There is blood everywhere, but not all of it belongs to this unfortunate fellow.

Not by a long shot.

"Yes, High Deacon," Jude agrees, kneeling in another patch of flattened grass only a few feet away. There’d been a body here as well, but somebody had moved it.

That meant that somebody was still alive. 

The Children of Mutanity, using floating rail carts obtained in Venecici, had ridden the Engie tracks all the way to the Fringes, only to find that the last human and her friends hadn't gotten off at the end of the line. They’d jumped off somewhere.

It hadn't taken long to pick up the trail though.

"They went that way," Jude points, his finger finding a nearly faded path of flattened grass meandering to the horizon. The wind is constant out here, causing the grass to ceaselessly shift and reassert itself. The path won't be visible much longer. Blaine joins him, staring in the direction Jude is indicating.

"There's something out there," Blaine says, squinting.

Jude squints his own eyes, but can't be sure. It could be something, but it could also just be a rounded hilltop.

"Farseer," Blaine orders, reaching out to one of the Children behind him. A mutant man, laden with field equipment, passes a long brass tube to Blaine who takes the device and holds it up to one eye. He smiles, handing the Farseer to Jude. Jude takes it and looks, a bulbous metallic structure suddenly appearing on the magnified horizon. 

"There's a Manse behind it too," Jude announces.

"We move quickly and quietly," Blaine says, reining his Children together. "Stay low in the grass. There's little cover out here, but that cannot be helped. Jude, you're with me." 

Jude nods, pride swelling in him.

This was it! The moment his life had been leading up to.

The last human.

Who is the last human?

You know who it is!

It's not her! It can't be!

Does it matter?

He shakes his head.

No, he finally thinks. I must kill the last human.

Blaine's voice in his head overpowers his own.

THE LAST HUMAN MUST DIE!

 

 

 

 

28.

 

"I'm sorry... My fault... Mutations... Pilcrow? No! Juno... Last human? No!"

"Pilcrow?" I repeat, face scrunched. "What does that mean?"

Ursa shakes her head, staring at Altair's unconscious form. "He's been spouting this nonsense since I found him." The woman's eyes find mine. "He seems to be dreaming about you a lot though." She smirks.

I roll my eyes. "It's probably the concussion." I turn to Tien, who's just finished putting a fresh dressing on Altair's head. "It is a concussion, right?"

Tien shrugs. "I can't say for sure but... Yeah, probably."

We're back in Tien's room in the Manse. Me, Traylor, Ursa, Tien, and Altair. When Ursa showed up in front of the Manse, hysterical, Tien had immediately rounded up a few of his brothers and retrieved Altair from the grasslands according to Ursa's directions. Ursa had seemed nervous–even for her–upon seeing the mutant boys from Everwinter, but she seems calmer now. Luckily, Altair's only major wound is on the head, and that not so severe. He will recover.

Ursa sobs a little, and I move to where she sits at the side of the bed to comfort her. "Why don't you take a walk?" I suggest. "You've done all you can for Altair. Take a break, get some air. The boys here won't bother you." I think.

Ursa shakes her head vehemently. "No... I... I can't. I feel responsible for him now. I want to be here when he wakes up. You go, Juno. Get some air. I don't imagine he'll be waking for a while yet."

I very much want to argue the point, but the look on Ursa's face stops me. She's traumatized. I nod. "Sure," I say. "Come on, Traylor. Let's go get something to eat with Tien." Traylor doesn't argue for once, heading for the door, Tien beside him.

"Juno?" Ursa calls, timidly. "A moment, please."

I nod at Tien and Traylor and they leave the room.

"What is it?" I ask, coming next to the woman again.

Ursa's face becomes graver than it already is.

"It isn't safe here," she urges.

I sigh. "Look, I know some of these boys seem a little rough around the edges, but I don't think they'll hurt us. Not with Tien around anyway."

Ursa shakes her head. "It's not that," she says. "I know what this place once was."

I smirk. "Yeah, so do I."

"You do?"

"Yeah. They used to experiment on the boys here. They were stolen from Everwinter as infants and brought here." Ursa's jaw is almost on the floor. "Tien told me," I explain.

Ursa nods. "Well, thank the gods for him," she says. "But that's not what has me worried."

I roll my eyes, getting annoyed. "What is it, Ursa?"

She lowers her voice, conspiratorially. "I used to work here," she says.

My eyes pop wide. "What?" I say, hoping I'd misheard her.

"It was brief, and a long time ago," Ursa explains. "I don't think any of these boys will remember me but..."

I nod, understanding the woman's fear now. "Do you remember any of them?" I ask.

Ursa shakes her head. "It was so long ago, and they were just infants at the time... Juno, you don't know what we did here. It wasn't pleasant. It happened during a more desperate time in my life, and I was willing to compromise my scruples to achieve my goals."

I pause, staring. "You mean curing mutations, don't you? You did some of your experiments here..." To help cure my Mother, I think but don't say.

Ursa nods, touching the tumors on her face. "I didn't look like this back then," she says. "There's that at least. They haven't recognized me so far."

I study her face, the human she’d once been barely recognizable. I smile. "There's nothing to worry about then," I say. "You look nothing like those old fotos in your lab." I smirk sheepishly. "That's not meant to be an insult, by the way."

Ursa laughs and Altair groans at the sound, struggling a little on the bed. "No offense taken," she finally says. "I suppose you are right." She smiles at me. "Go. Take a walk with Tien. I'll send someone when Altair wakes up. Then we can get the hells out of here."

I get up, putting a hand on the mutant woman's shoulder. "Take it easy," I say. "You deserve it."

And with that, I leave the room.

 

 

 

 

29.

 

I find the hallway outside the room deserted. 

Boisterous voices echo up from the main floor, so I head down the stairs. I make my way to the mess hall and find a group of mutants surrounding Traylor and the mutant boy Jurid. To my astonishment, the two are wrestling at the center of the circle, grunts and cries produced as they tangle. 

And laughs. 

I sigh in relief upon realizing this is all for fun. Then I laugh too. Traylor is actually giving Jurid a run for it! I see Tien among the group, watching. I slip over to him and tap him on the shoulder. He turns toward me and smiles. 

"Wanna go for a walk?" I ask. He nods enthusiastically.

We leave together, with more than a few eyes watching us instead of the combatants in the ring. As soon as we're outside, it feels as if a huge weight has been lifted, like I'd been holding my breath for hours. Tien falls into step beside me and I relax. 

We head for the dome. 

Tien looks at me, but when my eyes try to find his, they dart away. 

He's such a timid creature.

"You're not like the others here, are you, Tien?"

Tien finally looks at me as if offended. "We are all the same," he replies. "We are brothers. We all come from Everwinter. We–"

"You know that's not what I meant," I cut him off. "I mean in here." I tap my chest once. "You feel things that they don't." I hesitate. Tien's gone shy again. "You're more human," I finish.

Tien's gaze falls all the way to the ground and he deflates, as if I've just pulled a magic pin from his back that was keeping him upright. He nods. "They call me brother, but they treat me like a human." He pauses. "The people that brought us here, the science people, they all liked me the best. I don't know why. I guess ‘cause I could relate to them. I understood what they were trying to do, even if it was horrific. 'For the greater good', one of them always told me." Tien shudders. "I understood the concept, but my brothers didn't. Or they refused to."

"And you accepted that?" I ask, making my disdain plain. "You accepted the fact that they were experimenting on you so that their kind–humans–could be advanced?"

Tien shrugs. "No, I did not accept it. But, like I said, I understood it. Those people would have done what they did regardless of whether I accepted it or not. Not understanding it would have only served to make things worse. If my life was to be resigned to an endless cycle of pain and suffering, at least some good would come of it. At least there was the hope that it would result in a life being saved." Tien hesitates. "Even if that life was human."

I shake my head, hardly believing what I'm hearing. 

Did my Father know what went on here? I wonder for what seems the millionth time. I'm almost positive now that he did. And did he justify it by saying it was for 'the greater good'? He did use that phrase sometimes. Was saving my Mother worth such a hefty cost?

You would have done the same for Jude.

I nod to myself. Yes, I would have. Without a doubt. 

I love you, Juno Quinn...

"You really are one of a kind, Tien," I say, interrupting my thoughts, smiling openly at the mutant.

Tien shrugs, saying nothing. I take his hand in mine. I can feel his hesitation, but then he relaxes and our hands clasp as one. His flesh is cold. Not freezing, but a hells of a lot colder than mine.

I don't mind.

We reach the dome.

I hadn't even realized that this was where we were headed. We're standing on a large stone patio before a massive door of frosted glass, standing open. I've never anything like it. There's little trails of dirt, leaves, and grass moving in and out of the building.

"We don't come out here much," Tien says, reaching for the door.

I grab his arm. "We don't have to do this," I say, seeing the pain in his eyes.

Tien shakes his head. "No, it's alright. I've been here many times since...." The Final Judgment, I finish in my head. "A lot of my brothers avoid it altogether," Tien continues, "but I think that's unhealthy. It's just a building, and now it's abandoned. We have to move on."

My eyes go wide, amazed at Tien's maturity. I put a hand on his shoulder. "After you," I gesture.

Tien leads me inside.

It's dark, but then I hear a soft buzzing noise and a chain of bright lights bursts on in an arc overhead. One light explodes, sending sparks showering across the other side of the building.

Automatic power!

"It's really getting rundown now," Tien says.

There's a central concourse shooting straight off before us. On either side, the dome is divided into sections by sometimes transparent, sometimes translucent glass walls. I've never seen so much of the same type of glass in one place. A lot of the walls are smashed; equipment, screens, and desks toppled haphazardly where I can see them.

"My brothers went a little crazy when we were first set free," Tien explains. "The humans abandoned us after the Final Judgment, so we moved into the Manse where they used to live. But our hate of this place drew us back. We took out our frustrations on these inanimate objects." Tien shakes his head. "Why do we do that? It's not like we're actually getting revenge when we do it. It wasn't the building that harmed us, but the people inside it."

I pull Tien closer to me. "Because you're human, Tien," I say, almost whispering. "At least partially. You may be mutants, but you have emotions. All of you."

Tien nods, pulling me deeper into the complex.

Some of the rooms we pass are locked, still clean and sterile, but I don't find it hard to imagine the horrors they'd inflicted. I see tables and chairs with straps on them, used to restrain their victims. I see cold instruments and tubing hanging from the ceiling, hanging over tables and chairs. I see needles, drills, scalpels, cutting instruments, sewing instruments.

I puke up a little in my mouth.

Tien has scars on his body, but unlike human scars, they blend perfectly with the surrounding white tissue, nearly invisible unless felt directly. I brush a hand along Tien's arm and feel quite a few of the hard raised lumps. He shivers, stopping in the middle of the concourse. 

My eyes meet his.

"We... We shouldn't do this, Juno," Tien says timidly. But for once he's not looking away.

"Do what?" I ask, bringing my lips closer to his. 

Closer and closer.

"I... I'm not good enough for you, Juno," Tien says, starting to shake.

I stop briefly, our lips just inches apart. "Why? Because I'm the last human?" I shake my head. "My kind is doomed, Tien. And besides, you saved my life! If anything, that means I'm not good enough for you. Humanity had its chance."

"You don't really believe that," Tien states.

"Maybe," I grin, and start moving toward him again.

"Juno, I–" Tien's words are cut off as my lips find his, warm flesh locking onto cold. It's the strangest sensation of my life. Nothing like kissing Jude.

Jude!

My eyes go wide but I don't pull away. What am I doing? Jude's been gone little more than a month and I'm–

Tien senses my hesitation. His eyes open and he pulls away.

"What?" he asks, fear plain on his face. "Is something wr–"

KERRASH!!

Tien and I both whirl.

A pair of shapes near the entrance to the concourse duck behind a glass wall. We can hear their footfalls as they run. Then we hear the slamming of a door, opening and closing.

Tien scowls. "Damn them!" he growls. "I knew they couldn't leave me alone with you! Not even for a second!"

"Your brothers?" I ask, though I know the answer.

"Yeah," Tien confirms. "I suppose you've noticed their, ahem, scrutiny of you?"

I nod with a smirk. "Oh yeah, you could say that."

Tien blinks. "You should have seen them fight over you when I first brought you in. It was nearly a riot. Dura had to step in and stop it. He doesn't do that often." Tien pauses. "I wouldn't say Dura likes me, but he respects what I am. He knew that I would take care of you and that your best chance was with me."

Still holding Tien's cold hand, I squeeze it. But the moment is over, and I reluctantly let it go. 

"Should we head back?" I ask.

Tien is reluctant too. "Yes, I think maybe we should. If my brothers covet you this much... If they saw us, um, kissing..." He hesitates. "I don't want Traylor to get caught up in it."

My heart feels ready to stop. I hadn't even considered that.

"Yeah," I say. "Let's get outta here."

 

 

 

 

30.

 

The Manse is full of shouting, much as it was when we'd left it. My only hope is that the boys are still wrestling in the mess hall.

They aren't.

We get there and the place seems to be on the verge of erupting, curses coming from every corner of the large space. Dura is at the front, shouting something, but we can't make it out over the cacophony. 

Then our presence is noted.

Slowly, one by one, every head turns our way, the voices coming to a stop. The glares that greet us are icier than the kiss I'd just shared with Tien. 

The kiss that started this all.

I look at Tien and he's returning the stares, heedless. I get the feeling that Tien is a courageous individual, but only when it's forced out of him, kicking and screaming as it is now.

Tien strides toward Dura, purposefully. "What is this about?" he asks, voice stern and confident. There's no denying it: I'm crushing hard on Tien.

"Your friends need to leave, Tien," Dura says, without preamble. "Now. For the sake of our community." Dura's eyes fall on me and I shiver.

Tien sneers. "I saved her life; that makes me responsible for her." He snarls at the rest of his brothers. "Is this how we treat those in our care? If it is, then we are no better than the humans that imprisoned us here all these years!" Tien points toward a wall. We can't see it from here, but the dome sits in that direction.

"That's a lie!" voices scream from a suddenly erupting crowd.

"We are nothing like them!" others concur.

"Humans are the blasphemy!" still others contribute.

The room is near boiling. 

Dura screams for silence and, for once, the brothers listen. But now a new voice enters the fray.

"What's going on here?" Ursa's familiar tone sounds from the main entrance.

Upon seeing Ursa, Dura's expression becomes grave. Tien and I are standing in front of Dura at the head of the room, and he gestures for us to move closer. "You and your friends leave now," he says to me. "Or the consequences will be disastrous."

I bare my teeth. "I thought you were the leader here, Dura," I counter. "Yes, I get it, your boys have been suppressed for most of their lives, but if you don't rein them in now, sooner or later, your society will crumble." Dura's gaze is hard and only growing harder. "We can't leave, not until Altair is recovered. If you really are the leader here, now's your chance to prove it." I pause to gesture theatrically. "Tell your boys to stay away from us, and we'll do likewise until we leave. Traylor included."

I've just caught a glimpse of my little brother, hiding among the mutants, inching towards me and Tien. 

What are you doing? he mouths at me harshly.

I just shake my head to indicate that he should join me.

Dura finally sighs. "It is not that easy," he says. "Tien doesn't know what it was like for the others. He was well liked by the humans. Some of his brothers, what was done to them can never be reversed." Dura pauses to tap his skull. "In here," he says. "They cannot escape the nightmares in their minds and the hatred they have for humans."

I nod, sympathizing. "Look, Dura, I get that you've all been through a lot, but that doesn't excuse this kind of behavior. They want to beat or kill Tien and fight over me. This cannot go on! If you let it, you've lost them forever. Your community will die right here in the place you despise so much."

Dura nods, his stone expression finally melting. He lowers his voice. "I agree with you, Miss Quinn. More than you know. Unfortunately, I must do what is best for my brothers. You leave now, or I will let it be known who your traveling companion is." He gestures to Ursa, who has just joined us at the front of the room. "For the greater good," Dura finishes with a hiss.

My eyes go wide.

He knows.

My conversation with Tien, not more than half an hour ago, replays in my mind:"The people that brought us here, the science people, they all liked me best. I don't know why. I could relate to them, I guess. I understood what they were trying to do, even if it was horrific. 'For the greater good', one of them always told me..."

I turn toward Tien, my body feeling like it's encased in thick jelly. I expect his gaze to meet mine, but Tien's eyes are cast elsewhere.

He's looking at Ursa.

He turns back toward Dura, keeping his head low, eyes squinted. He shakes his head, then finally looks up at Dura. "How did you know?" he asks, stealing a quick glance back at Ursa. The mutant woman approaches timidly. "I barely recognize her."

The exceptionally tall Dura stoops low as well, keeping the conversation between us three. "She was one of the few good ones," Dura answers. "You wouldn't know because they were all good to you, Tien. More or less. But I remember the truly good ones." Dura pauses, gathering himself. "Do you think I'd let her stand here among us if she were not?"

Tien shakes his head. "If you tell the others, they won't care whether she was one of the good ones or not. All they will care about is revenge." Hoarse whispers and muted curses echo from behind us and I turn to see that the mutant boys are getting restless, eyeing us warily. We need to wrap this up quickly.

"They'll tear them apart," Tien pleads, turning his gaze on mine.

Dura shakes his head, expression returning to stone. "I know, Tien, which is why I am giving them the chance to leave now. They have until the tenth hour to leave this place." He pauses. "If they are still here after that, I will have no choice but to tell the brothers the truth." He crosses his arms, indicating that the matter is settled. I hear a few vicious growls from the onlookers.

I'm getting nervous.

Tien checks a large clock on the wall–one of the few still working machines in this place. He looks at Dura, then at me. "It's the eighth hour," he informs. "That is not much time." Dura remains stern. Tien bows. "Very well then. I have no choice as well. I am going with them." He announces it just a little too loudly. A few of the boys near the front hear it, relaying the information to their brothers. I'm shocked, but unsurprised. 

Tien never really belonged here anyway.

The hall is getting louder.

"Then I suggest you be gone by the ninth hour," Dura admonishes. "For your own good."

Is that a threat?

Before I can dwell on it, the crash of a table behind us makes us all whirl. A boy near the back has flipped one over. He's still throwing things, his rage growing. 

"Why does Tien get to have her?" he screams over the escalating shouts. The rest of the boys seem to agree.

Tien pulls me in behind him as a few of the boys advance toward us. I turn and look to Dura for some form of help, but the lead boy has stepped away, indicating that he's washed his hands of the situation. Traylor and Ursa are behind me now too, both shaking in terror.

"What do we do?" Ursa stammers.

Tien snarls at a boy who gets close, swinging a long limbed arm. But it's all a ruse. While Tien's off balance, another boy sneaks in behind and goes to his knees as yet another boy shoves Tien from the front, knocking him hard over the kneeling boy and sending him crashing to the stone floor.

"No!" I protest.

But it's too late. 

The boys surround us...

KRAKOOOM!!

An absolutely deafening roar mutes all the other noise in the mess hall. It's a sound I've heard all too often now on this adventure.

A shooting iron.

The boys halt their advance, many leaping for cover. They are all looking toward the front of the hall, but I can't see anything over the taller mutants.

"Move away!" a voice orders. It's vaguely familiar, making my breath catch. There's a cold edge to it though, making it hard to discern.

The boys don't move.

"NOW!" the voice orders. Another deafening blast fills the room, followed by a spray of rocky shrapnel as a bullet crashes into the floor near the largest clump of boys.

The boys get the hint.

They leap for their lives, congregating against the edges of the room. The spread apart like a wave, and the apparition that is revealed in their wake is literally the last person I expected to see in this crazy, messed up world. I expected to see Altair, or maybe the Children of Mutanity. 

But not him. Not now.

"Jude?" I ask, trying not to sound skeptical but doing a bad job of it.

"Hello, Juno," Jude returns. "Or should I call you the last human?"

 

 

 

 

31.

 

"Jude!" I repeat, rubbing my eyes to make sure he's not some ghostly figure ready to disappear. "Is it really you?" I run toward him, my heart fluttering like a leaf on the wind.

Jude is still holding a shooting iron–where the hells had he gotten that?–but it's at his side, pointed at the floor. He watches me approach, but his expression never changes.

I love you, Juno Quinn…

His voice in my mind, once again.

I slow down as I reach him. "Jude?" I ask, smiling broadly. "What's wrong? What's–"

Stars explode before my eyes.

When I recover seconds later, I'm kneeling on the floor, holding my cheek where Jude had struck it. There's blood. The boys in the hall snarl at Jude, but he's pointing the shooting iron at them again. They back off. Tears well up in my eyes. The feelings I have for this man bubble to the surface, suppressed for far too long now. 

"Why?" I whisper. "I thought you were dead. I... I–"

"Humanity is a blasphemy," Jude cuts me off. "And the Children of Mutanity must cleanse it."

I feel like a lead weight has been placed upon my chest. "No, Jude," I say, still kneeling and shaking my head. Tears fall. "Don't tell me that. Not now that I have you back. Tell me you're not one of them..."

"We have this place surrounded, Juno," Jude continues as if I hadn't spoken, "twenty men with twenty shooting irons. We don't want to hurt the mutants living here. We just want the last human, nothing more." Jude's voice echoes in the silent recesses. I can't look at him. I don't know how. He's been brainwashed. The Children must have taken him in after the Final Judgment. It's the only explanation.

He's only asking for the last human. One person! Me! They don't know about Traylor! I realize with a start.

Covertly, I turn my head to look back toward the front of the room. Dura is still there, along with Ursa, but I can't see Traylor anywhere. 

Where did he go?

And where the hells is Tien?

"Come on," Jude continues, voice cold. "Get up, Juno. Make this easy on your friends. Come quietly, and they will be left alone."

The mutant boys, still hanging on at the edge of the room, are looking outside the tall windows now, whispering and pointing. There are indeed people out there. Other Children, just as Jude threatened. I never doubted it.

There is no choice.

"Okay," I say, finally looking up at Jude, forcing my emotions into a bottle. "I'll... I'll go with you. I think you're faking this whole thing anyway. Do you remember the last thing you told me, Jude?"

I love you, Juno Quinn...

Jude remains unmoved, expression unreadable. 

"Let's go," I finally say, defeated.

"NO!" somebody suddenly screams.

Out of nowhere comes Tien, leaping toward Jude from the edge of the room, covering the distance in two bounds. Jude is thrown off balance and Tien strikes him, the shooting iron sent scattering across the floor. The other boys scramble for it. A struggle ensues but it proves one-sided. Tien is much stronger than Jude. He has my former love pinned helplessly, one long fingered hand clasped firmly around Jude's soft throat.

"Stay away from her!" Tien growls, his grip tightening. 

Jude hardly flinches.

What's happened to him? Why is he so emotionless? 

"If I don't return to the Children in two minutes," Jude manages to croak out, "they have orders to come in after me, irons blazing. They will kill you all."

Tien's grip slackens a bit. A few of the more reckless boys in the room encourage Tien to crush Jude, but he doesn't.

He lets go.

"Get out," Tien orders, teeth bared.

Jude gets to his feet, slow and deliberate. "You have ten minutes, Juno," he says, turning toward the door. Even without his shooting iron, he acts like he's in charge here. "Come out willingly, or we come in. You know what happens then." He turns away and leaves, some of the boys following him as he goes.

I almost collapse from shock, but Tien catches me. He caresses the wound on my face where Jude had struck me. "I take it you know that lunatic?" he asks with a smirk.

"Oh yeah," I nod. "He's, um, from my hometown. We've known each other forever." I don't feel that now's the right time to admit to Tien that Jude and I had been in a relationship.

I thought he was dead.

How could this happen?

"Why does he hate you so much?" Tien asks.

I shake my head. "He doesn't. He's... He's sick, Tien. A group called the Children of Mutanity have him brainwashed. They want to eliminate all traces of the old world, forget humanity ever existed." I pause, letting out a short laugh. "Sometimes I can't help but think that they're right."

I hear a snort of derision, thinking it's Tien, but the other boys have joined us now, most looking downtrodden and worried. 

"We won't let them have you, Juno," a new voice announces. I see Jurid pushing toward us, my brother in tow.

"They don't know about Traylor, do they?" Jurid asks.

I shake my head. "No, I don't think so."

"We're sorry, Tien," Jurid says as similar sentiments are expressed throughout the group. "We... You are the only one of us good enough for Juno. She is special. She should be yours."

"Hey, I'm not property that can be passed around!" I interject, but I see from Tien's embarrassment that he agrees with me already.

"We won't let the bad people take you," Jurid says to me. "We're with you." Most of the boys seem to agree. I'm inspired by their courage, but it's foolish. 

Courage won't shield them from a bullet.

"Thank you, Jurid," I say, addressing the entire group. "Thank you all. But–and please, don't be upset about this–I have to go out there."

The boys erupt. It's Tien I'm looking at though. 

His head is downcast.

He knows I'm right.

"They will kill you all," I announce, as if Jude hadn't just made that very threat. I inch toward a window and look out. I see men–sentries posted at intervals in the grass outside. A group of is congregated out there too. I see Jude, and another man that I'd hoped to never see again in my life.

Blaine. The leader of the Children of Mutanity. 

The man who'd led the raid on our Manse in Krakelyn. 

The mutant responsible for killing my Father.

Probably. 

Now that I know that Jude is alive, anything seems possible.

My anger surges.

"If I don't give myself up," I say, turning from the window, "I might as well sign death warrants for you all. I'm sorry, but there is no other way."

Traylor bursts toward me, eyes glazed with tears. "No!" he admonishes. "Juno, I won't let them! What's wrong with Jude? Is he just pretending? Is he secretly gonna save us?" 

I shake my head. I'd already considered that possibility, but inwardly I know it's not true. The man I used to know is now buried, lost beneath layers of hate, suppression, and vitriol. Jude hated the old religion as much as I did, but I suspect he’d joined the Children for protection after the Final Judgment. Living in that environment has warped his mind. Who knows what the Children made him do? I can only hope he's still in there, somewhere.

Maybe I can bring him back.

"I'm coming with you," Tien announces, speaking up after going quiet a moment.

"We all are," Jurid adds, puffing his pale chest out.

I shake my head. "That will only give them an excuse to kill you outside of the Manse. Don't make that task easier for them. Please."

I turn to Tien. "You can't come with me," I say. "This is a one way trip, Tien." He shakes his head. "You know it is."

I see his eyes getting wet, but the young mutant finally nods. "It figures that the one person I could ever be happy with is also the last human."

I smirk.

"Hey! I'm getting sick of everyone referring to Juno as 'the last human'!" Traylor suddenly protests. He gestures to his unblemished face. "I'm still just as pretty as she is!" I laugh, but Traylor's face is not amused. He isn't joking. He's trembling, trying to hold back the waterworks.

"Traylor," I say, bending low to my little brother. "It'll be alright. After this, you really will be the last human." The words are harsh, but it's the truth. I don’t sugarcoat it.

"No." He says, shaking his head.

"Yes. As soon as Altair is better, he and Ursa will take you to Everwinter. The good thing is that no one will be hunting for you. Nobody knows about you. As far as anyone outside these walls know, I am the last human." I pause, but Traylor won't meet my gaze.

I reach out to him but he recoils. "I hate you!" he screams, bolting and disappearing into the Manse. Jurid follows him. I'm shaken and on the verge of breakdown, but I keep my head up. Ursa's hand falls on my shoulder. 

"He'll be alright," I say. "Traylor has a flair for the dramatic."

Ursa nods, her own eyes dripping. She wipes the tears away. "I've barely known you a week and... Look at me!" More tears fall.

I chuckle. "I feel the same way, Ursa." We lock eyes. "Take care of my brother."

Ursa nods, reluctant to let me go. But she knows it has to be this way. "For the greater good, Juno," she whispers back.

I turn away.

Tien is waiting for me at the mess hall entrance. I go to him.

"I really want to tell you that you don't have to do this," he says, face sheepish, "but I know that you do. I understand it."

"Take care, Tien," I say, caressing a hand across his cold, bluish cheek. I steal a last glance at the mutant boys assembled in the hall and they're all staring back, eyes glazed, expressions forlorn. 

Some of them wave, but I don't wave back.

It's time to end this.

 

 

 

 

32.

 

They're waiting for me, of course.

The Children of Mutanity no longer have the Manse surrounded. They've gathered at the front, the metallic bulge of the dome behind them like a massive mechanical grub. As it always does this far east, the sun sits just above the horizon, making the shadows long and drawn. 

Jude steps away from his cohorts to greet me, noticing my hesitation. The Children all have shooting irons, but they're holstered, none pointed my way. They're trying to make me feel comfortable, I guess. We meet in the grass and Jude holds a hand out to me. "You're doing the right thing, Juno," he says. "I'm sorry it has to be this way."

"Me too," I sneer, not meeting his gaze nor taking his hand. I stride past him with disdain. 

WHAM!

Something slams against the back of my head and I stumble to my knees. My head swims, but I force myself back to my feet.

"What the hells was that for?" I snarl, teeth bared at Jude. His face swims before my vision, but I can see that he's expressionless. 

"What's wrong with you?" I plead. "You used to love me!"

Jude's eyes go wide and he raises his hand again, butt of his shooting iron ready to crash down on me once again.

"Jude!" a familiar baritone calls out, laughing at the same time. Jude stops, startled. "Well done! But that won't be necessary. Let's not draw this out longer than we have to."

It's Blaine.

The dark haired man comes toward us, hand outstretched. The tumor above his eye looks like a mountain. Jude looks at Blaine, then at me, then at the weapon in his hand. I can see the conflict within, even as his face morphs into a scowl. He points the iron at me. 

"Get on your knees," he says.

I'm stunned.

Blaine laughs again, finally reaching us. "That's right! Let's end this quickly!"

I feel like crying, like pleading, my heart ready to burst from my chest. But I don't give in to it. I remain steady, on the surface at least. I get on my knees in front of Jude.

He lowers the iron to my forehead.

"I don't know what they've done to you, Jude," I say, keeping my tone civil, "but we were friends once. Good friends. You loved me. And I..."

"You never loved me," Jude finishes, nearly whispering. I shake my head, forcing it up to look at him. He actually smiles. "It's okay, Juno," he says. "I knew it the moment I told you I loved you. Your face said it all."

I'm speechless, but I don't deny it.

Jude is right.

I hadn't admitted it to myself yet, because I hadn't had to. 

But it's true.

I never loved Jude. 

We were together, but we were never as one.

Jude continues, iron still pressed to my head. "You never said it back. You never said it ever. I thought you were dead after the Final Judgment. But then I started hearing stories about a red haired girl who was still human. It seemed farfetched, until I started hearing it more and more. That's when I came to realize: the last human is real, and she's the girl I'm in love with." Jude pauses, smiling to himself. "Funny how that girl never came looking for me."

I gasp, flabbergasted at Jude's accusation. "I thought you were dead too!" I explain, trying to keep my cool. "My Father..."

"Your Father knew I was alive, Juno," Jude continues. "When I went into hiding that morning after the beach, I was captured by the Deacons. I never got out of Krakelyn. Your Father detained me. He told me you were dead. But then the Final Judgment happened, and I was no longer the only mutant in town. Your Father kept me locked up, but when the Children raided your Manse, Blaine set me free."

I shake my head in disbelief. 

Jude was in the Manse the day I fled Krakelyn? 

It hardly seems possible but, of course, it is. There's ancient rooms in the Manse's cellar–cells–and Father used them now and again to interrogate a prisoner.

Me and Traylor were never allowed down there.

These new revelations spark anger in me toward my Father, but I give myself an irrational second and realize he'd just been trying to protect me. At any cost.

"Blaine explained to me how the Quinn family had been in charge long enough," Jude continues, "holding the old religion over our heads like a knife. The world is a new place, and new leadership is needed. The Children of Mutanity took me in that day."

Jude pauses, lost in remembrance. I'm just trying to process all I'm learning.

"You managed to escape from Krakelyn," Jude sneers, "but you never once stopped to look for me."

"I was kind of fleeing for my life!" I snarl back, anger swelling. The nerve!

"I would have looked for you," Jude counters. "I wouldn’t have stopped. You didn't know for certain that I was dead. Your Father told you that even he didn't know for certain."

"And how would you know that?" I snipe, disbelieving.

"One of the servants at the Manse told me," he replies. "After some...persuasion."

"You bloody bastard!" I scream, flailing from my position on the ground. I feel the shooting iron press harder to my skin.

"You didn't love me, Juno," Jude says again.

I have nothing more to say. This isn't the man I used to know. That man is dead.

When did Jude get so insecure?

I turn my gaze and it falls on Blaine, who's smiling greedily. This is the man responsible for Jude's betrayal. The brainwasher. I snarl and spit at him. 

Blaine laughs. "Enough, Jude. Finish the last human, and the Children of Mutanity can claim their rightful place as the heirs of this world."

Jude cocks the weapon.

He hesitates.

"Do it, Jude!" Blaine orders. "The last human must die!"

I feel the iron pressing harder, but nothing happens. My eyes are squeezed shut, awaiting the inevitable, but now I let them open. 

Blaine is in a frenzy. 

"Do it!" he screams. Jude doesn't. Blaine pulls out his own iron, pushing Jude roughly out of the way. "Say goodbye to the last human," he admonishes.

He levels the pistol at my heart.

"NO!" I suddenly hear a scream from out of nowhere. A white blur bursts up from the tall grass, completely hidden until now. Tien! The young mutant has the shooting iron that Jude had dropped in the mess hall.

He pulls the trigger.

In an expansive spatter of blood and brains, Blaine's head explodes, his body falling limply to the grass.

"NO!" yet another voice calls out. This time it's Jude.

He still has that other shooting iron in his hand, the one he'd had pressed to the front of my head, leveling it at Tien. 

He pulls the trigger. 

"Tien!" I scream, ignoring all else.

I fall to the mutant's side, but it's too late.

Tien isn't moving.

I hear a commotion behind me and I whirl, expecting to see Jude finally finish me off. Instead, I'm flabbergasted to find the Children of Mutanity are completely overthrown! The rest of the boys in the Manse have snuck out the back of the building, stalking around through the tall grass. Though the mutants are just boys, being of Everwinter, they are naturally bigger and stronger, overpowering the men with ease. Dura has Jude by both arms, holding them forcefully behind his back. 

I look Jude dead in the eyes. "I hate you," I say, turning away. "You are truly dead to me." For the first time since our reunion, Jude finally shows a hint of emotion on his face. 

Sadness.

It's too little, too late, however.

"What should we do with them, Juno?" Jurid asks, but I'm too stunned to speak. Just moments earlier, I'd been preparing to die. 

I watch the boys, and a few of them are fiddling with their newly acquired shooting irons, pointing them at the Children. A shot goes off and one of the Children collapses.

"No!" I scream, rushing over. I take the iron from the offending boy. "If you kill them, you are no better than they are!"

"Then what are we supposed to do?" another boy asks. "Let them go?"

I shake my head, my eyes falling on the domed laboratory on the horizon ahead.

"I've got a better idea," I say.

 

 

 

 

33.

 

"Are you sure about this, Juno?" Altair asks. "It'd be much safer–and easier–just to–"

"No," I counter, arms crossed. "I've made my mind clear on this, Altair. Dura has agreed to let the Children out of the dome a week after we leave here. There's nothing around for hundreds of miles, correct?"

Altair nods.

"Then they're as good as dead anyway. The boys will send them off with nothing but the clothes on their backs. If they can work together and survive, good for them. But there's no food or water out here. The Children are broken, Altair. Blaine was the only thing holding them together. They were brainwashed by him. You didn't see how easily they gave up after he was killed."

Altair nods. "I was kind of unconscious at the time." He rubs his head. There's just a small bandage there now, covering the stitches Tien used to seal the wound.

Altair crouches, hunkering next to the little mound we’ve made in the grasslands.

Tien's grave.

"I never got to thank him," Altair says. "He saved my life."

"Me too," I agree, sighing audibly. It's been two weeks since his death, but Tien will always have a place in my heart. Always. There's lots of room in there, now that I've excised everything I've ever felt about Jude.

Except the loathing.

I hate that man more than I ever could have ever loved him. I haven't seen him since he murdered Tien, and I don't plan to. Before all this happened, Jude was dead to me. Literally. Now, he's still dead to me, so nothing's changed. 

We're still heading to Everwinter.

CHOOOOOO!

A shrill whistle breaks the moment of silence between me and Altair, and we turn to see Traylor and Jurid, waving and running toward the Engie that’s just pulled to a stop in the field.

"I guess it's time," I say, turning back to Altair. 

He's still staring again at Tien's final resting place.

"What happened between you two?" he asks, nodding at the low mound. I shoot an unimpressed look at him, but he just shrugs. "I can tell by the way you talk about him," Altair explains. "You liked him, didn't you?"

"What business is it of yours if I did?" I ask, pretty much a snide admission to the accusation.

Altair stoops down and shoulders his backpack. "It's not," he says. "I just like to know what's going on with my crew, that's all."

"You and me both," I agree. It's all I have to say on the matter.

I stoop down now too, grabbing my own meager travel pack.

We head for the Engie.

"Dura really came through for us," Altair admits, eyeing the vehicle suspiciously. Not that I blame him, particularly after what happened the last time we rode on one of these. 

Is this the same one?

I gaze at the long machine, but I can't tell. I'm not that observant.

"Yeah," I agree. "I imagine he can be quite persuasive when he wants to be."

Dura is waiting for us at the back of the Engie, along with Ursa, Traylor, and Jurid. Dura had traveled to Venecici for us, 'persuading' the conductors to stop and pick up a few lost passengers on their next route. Altair had given Dura one of his throwing stars to use as part of the threat.

Altair's reputation definitely precedes him.

We reach the last of the Engie's cars. "Tertiary Class again?" I scoff. "If you could get the Engie to stop out here in the middle of nowhere," I chide Altair, "then why couldn't you get us Prime Class seats?"

Altair rolls his eyes, climbing up the ladder at the back of the car. "Don't worry," he soothes, "we won't be riding in steerage this time. They call this car the caboose." He opens a door. "'And we have it all to ourselves." His disappears inside.

The Engie suddenly wails from the head of its fifty or so cars.

Dura turns to me, leaning low to compensate for the height difference. "It's time to go, Miss Quinn," the mutant informs me. "I hope you find what you are looking for in Everwinter."

"Thank you, Dura," I say, standing tiptoed to peck his icy cheek.

I order Traylor to climb aboard, but he's hesitant. He's made a good friend in Jurid. "I hope we see each other again," he says to Jurid, hugging him then finally waving and climbing up the ladder.

"Me too, Traylor Quinn," Jurid replies.

I feel myself getting a bit weepy eyed, and sneer at my own soft-heartedness.

I follow Traylor up the ladder.

Ursa is conversing with Dura now–the only mutant that knows the woman had once conducted experiments here. They exchange terse looks and I worry, but then Dura finally pats the deformed woman on the back. She jumps up beside me just as the Engie starts to move. 

"All good?" I ask her as we wave to the mutant boys, getting further and further away by the second.

"Yes," Ursa nods, smiling. "Everything is just fine."

 

 

 

 

PART III: THE FRINGES

 

 

34.

 

"So, this ride only goes as far as the Fringes, is that right?"

"Yes, Juno," Altair nods, mocking exasperation. I'd already asked him this more than once.

I don't care. I'm bored.

After a couple of hours on the Engie, the grasslands have finally given way to more interesting terrain: rocks, mountains, trees. In fact, the Engie track has been hugging a low cliffside for the past hour, a spectacular wooded valley falling away from the other side. But I've seen views like this all my life. It's terrain much like Krakelyn, not nearly as exciting as the tropical southern cities in my opinion.

"And what makes the Fringes, um, the Fringes?" I ask, trying to say something that I haven't already. I shift on the plush couch on one side of the caboose, accidentally kicking Traylor as he sleeps at the other end.

"Knock it off," he grumbles, but his eyes never open.

Altair and Ursa are sitting on a similar seat across from me, a low stone table between us laden with a decent variety of meats, cheeses, and bread.

Dura had bribed the Engie men exceedingly well.

"The sun," Altair replies finally, staring out the window. "The sun touches the horizon at the Fringes. People live there because it’s halfway between Everwinter and Eversummer, and therefore won't be bothered by the problems of either."

"Why not?" I ask, feeling like I'm getting a history lesson. I guess I am, in a way.

"Because the people of Eversummer are afraid to see a sky without the sun," Altair replies. "While the people of Everwinter are afraid of seeing one with it." Altair hesitates, as if deciding whether or not to say something more. "Mutants in Everwinter have very sensitive eyes," he finally explains. "They can only take a certain amount of sunlight without covering them."

I nod, recalling the mutant boys back at the Manse. Tien had had brown eyes tinged with red. "That's why the boys had reddish eyes, isn't it?" I ask, directing the question more at Ursa. "They came from Everwinter, but were brought to a place where there was plenty of sunlight, so their eyes never got as sensitive."

Ursa smiles at me. "Very observant!" she answers. "I'll make a scientist of you yet!" Her expression becomes more serious. "Night vision was often a subject of study when I worked at the Manse, though I never engaged in it myself." She sighs, lost in remembrance. I'm impressed she's so forthcoming about her past. 

The caboose goes silent again and my eyes fall to the windows. The landscape hasn't changed; cliffs on one side, trees on the other. We pass through a Bleakpatch, indicated by three sharp whistle blasts from the Engie. I nearly panic, but Altair waves me down, getting up and opening a panel on the wall. He flips a switch and a distinct hum can be heard all over the car.

"I sealed in our air," Altair explains, sitting back down. "Just don't let me forget to turn it back off later. We could technically suffocate if we leave it on long enough."

"Yeah, technically," I say. "Sometimes I think that would be better."

Ursa gasps but Altair just rolls his eyes. "What's gotten into you?" he asks, doubt permeating his voice. "You've been all melancholy ever since we left the Manse." I shrug, not really knowing what to say. I'd grieved for Tien in the two weeks since his death and, while the hurt is still fresh, I'm pretty much over it. I mean, I liked the guy and all, but I barely knew him. 

I didn't love him. 

I've never loved anybody, I realize with a start.

My eyes meet Altair's. "I'm just in a bit of a funk is all," I finally reply, turning to gaze out the window once more. I can tell Altair wants to say something else, but he doesn't.

We travel in silence again a while longer, and then the Engie blasts its horn again, three times, indicating that the Bleakpatch has ended. Altair unseals the air in the room. Outside, the first signs of civilization appear: a few rundown, ramshackle buildings, sagging by the Engie tracks. 

A ghost town.

Even more depressing.

I'm about to turn away from the bleak view, when something out there catches my eye.

A shadow?

We're coming up on a large building–the largest in this abandoned village–and I swear I see something moving up on the roof. I keep my eyes peeled. The caboose is about to pass...

There!

A section of the collapsed roof juts out, creating a plank that actually hangs over the tracks a bit. Something now bounds along that plank, leaping off of it in a swan dive, headed directly for the roof of our–

"Oh hells!" I say.

"What?" Altair bounds to his feet.

THWUMP!

We all look upward.

"Something just leaped from that building," I say, pointing back.

"Not again," Ursa mumbles, clearly recalling our last little adventure aboard an Engie.

Throwing stars appear in Altair's hands. "Stay here," he orders, dashing for the door. He slips onto the little patio at the back of the caboose. There's a window set in the door, and so Ursa and I can see everything. Altair reaches for the lip of the car's roof and slowly pulls himself up using just his arms, his muscle control incredible. He peeks his head over then lets himself drop back down. He meets our eyes and signals that we should stay put. Then he takes a running step, grabbing the lip of the roof again, swinging his legs up and over, landing on his feet on the roof.

We can't see him anymore.

We hear two distinct sets of footsteps above, followed by muffled shouting. We can't make out what's being said.

I move for the door. 

"Don't, Juno!" Ursa begs.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," I say with a smirk. "I just want to be here to open it in case Altair needs it." Ursa nods, but looks nervous. More thumps ensue, followed by even louder shouts. 

I look at Ursa, eyes wide. "Did that sound like 'last human' to you?" I ask. Ursa just nods. "Bloody hells and ashes!" I curse. "How did they find us now? I thought we were done being hunted by mutants!"

"I don't know," Ursa simply shrugs.

THWUMP!

Something hits the roof. Hard. 

"Altair must have got him," I say, trying to sound hopeful. "He must have–"

Movement.

Ursa screams.

A humanoid shape falls into view outside one of the car's side windows, grasping at the lip of the roof for dear life. 

It's Altair.

"NO!" I scream, but there's nothing either of us can do about it. Altair is as good as–

A hand appears from above, grasping Altair by the wrist.

The hand is huge, but looks human.

Altair is pulled upward, finding footing against the side of the car. There's a soft thump, followed by footsteps running toward the back of the caboose. A body suddenly swings down from the roof, crashing with a thud outside the door. 

Again, it's Altair. "Open the bloody door!" he screams.

I do, just as Altair bolts to his feet and another form swings down from the roof, crashing into my protector and sending them both tumbling into the car.

The thing on top of Altair is massive.

At first, the size makes me mistake it for an Everwinter mutant. 

Had one of the boys from the Manse followed us? 

But as the bulky mass rolls off of Altair, I catch glimpses of normal colored skin and hair–tan and black, not powdery white. The creature literally seems to fold upward as it stands, its head brushing the eight foot ceiling. It's body appears to be all muscle, but as I look closer, I realize that that is not entirely the case. Yes, this mutant is certainly well built, but it looks bulkier because of massive growths all over its body. Tumors. Even its head is misshapen, beady dark eyes peering out from caves created by twisted tissue.

"Apologizings I am!" the massive thing suddenly croaks in a surprisingly normal tone of voice. It lends a hand to Altair, still recovering on the floor, the wind knocked completely out of him.

Altair hesitates but finally accepts a hand big enough to envelop his. "Thanks," he groans as he is pulled to his feet. He still has his trusty throwing stars, but his grip is relaxed, easy. He coughs. "Now, who are you and just what the hells do you want?" Altair's gaze falls on me.

The massive mutant finally seems to relax, his eyes also finding me. He stares, saying nothing for an uncomfortable moment. Then he smiles broadly. "It is being true!" the big brute stammers, lumbering over to me. He bends down and brushes rough fingers against my smooth face.

"Hey!" I protest. "Easy!" 

Altair gets between us. "Back off!" he orders

The mutant shakes his head, seeming embarrassed. "You are being the last humans!" he exclaims, excited. "And I must find the last humans!"

I see Altair tense a bit at this proclamation, but I sense no malice from this creature. "Well, you've found me," I say, smiling warmly.

"Found us," a new voice cuts in. I turn to see Traylor sitting awake on the sofa, yawning widely. 

"Us?" The mutant shakes his head in disbelief. He stomps over to Traylor. "Gods!" He exclaims. "More than a singles you are being!"

"Um, yeah," I reply, thinking I'd understood what he'd said. "This is Traylor, my brother. I'm Juno. We are the last humans."

"This is even more positive!" the lumbering beast pronounces. "With two pure humans, chances are twice for finding cure!"

"Cure?" Altair butts in, finally easing up on our intruder. "A cure for what?"

The mutant laughs, almost hysterically. "Why, for mutations, of course, silly mans! Doctors Agoma and Ragyle sends me for searchings you! And I find you! Two of yous!"

Ursa, who had been frozen with fear up until now, suddenly thaws, practically pushing herself between myself and the mutant. "A cure, you say?" she asks, her eyes as bright as I've ever seen them. "Who did you say you worked for again?"

"Doctors Agoma and Ragyle," the mutant repeats. "They sends Glamis after last human. Need pure blood for cure. They have cure, but they have no pure blood to synthesize. I find though!"

"Yes, you did," Ursa agrees, seeming deep in thought. 

"How did you find us?" Altair interrupts, getting all tense again. He turns toward me. "If this thing could find us..." He looks at me worriedly.

"My names is Glamis," the creature pipes up, sounding offended. "And I’se is not stupids, despite outward appearances."

Altair looks abashed, his face going redder than it already is. He's still got a pretty virulent rash on his cheek and neck, but that's the worst of his mutations, as far as I can tell. The man got off lucky during the Final Judgment. 

"Whole planet knows about you now, I thinks," Glamis replies, ignoring Altair's comment. "Rumors all over Venecici. Children of Mutanity looking for you. I follow their leads. I find you take ride on Engie in Venecici, but you no gets off in Fringes. I go back, retracing steps. I talk to man who know about you at Engie Station. He say you got off for a while, but getting back ons. I can no afford to ride Engies more than once, so I find shortcut ahead and jump on. No big deals."

I laugh. I'm liking this Glamis more and more all the time. "You've literally been one step behind us since Venecici," I say, smiling up at the mutant. The mutant smiles back, clearly proud.

"Where are these Doctors you work for?" Ursa comes in, directing the conversation back on track.

"We heading there now!" Glamis informs us. "Fringes. First city. Takay. Not pretty city, but where Doctors keep lab. Away from prying eyes in Eversummer."

I turn to Ursa. "These 'Doctors' aren't friends of yours, are they?" I ask. It seems they are very much in the same line of business as Ursa.

Ursa shakes her head. "No, but that's not unusual. I am hardly the only scientist in Eversummer to have conducted experiments on mutants." Ursa turns back toward Glamis. "This cure... Is it fully tested? It works?"

Glamis nods. "Yes, it work. But need pure blood to finish."

"So, it's not fully tested then," Ursa accuses.

Glamis sags. "Well, yesses. Cure only tested with mutant bloods. Results promising though. Need pure bloods to finish. Theory of cure nearly infallible."

"But it's still just a theory," Ursa sighs. She turns back to me and Altair.

"What you thinking?" I ask.

Ursa shrugs. "If what, um, Glamis here says is true, and a cure has been successfully synthesized... What have we got to lose? This lab he came from is on our way to Everwinter anyway. If a working cure is already there, it'll save me months, possibly even years of work."

I gasp mentally. It hadn't occurred to me that Ursa’s cure for the mutations would take that much time to produce. I'd simply assumed that the woman would just take some blood samples, culture them up, then POOF! Instant mutant cure.

Altair pulls Ursa aside, including me in a brief huddle. "What if this is a trap?" he asks, still suspicious of Glamis.

I glance over at Glamis. "Are you serious?" I say. "Have you seen Glamis? Why would he bother with some big, overdramatic ruse? He could've snapped both of your necks by now and be carrying me and Traylor under one arm the rest of the way to the Fringes. He's telling the truth." Glamis puffs up proudly, taking what I say as a compliment.

Altair hesitates, then finally nods. "I guess you're right. But when we get to the Fringes–"

"Takay," I interrupt. "He said the place is called Takay."

"Right," Altair huffs. I love driving him nuts. "When we get to Takay, if I suspect anything is amiss, we bail, without question. You all listen to my orders if it comes to that."

"Fair enough," I agree with a smirk. Ursa murmurs her assent as well.

"I'm in," Traylor also agrees. He's finally joined us.

We all turn toward Glamis.

"Okay, Glamis," I say. "We will come with you. But Altair is in charge, is that cool?"

Glamis seems confused for a moment, but then he nods and his smile is broader than ever.

"Fantastics!" he exclaims. "You will not regrets! You will sees! This will all be over very soon indeeds!"

 

 

 

 

35.

 

It's another sixteen hours before the Engie reaches the Fringes.

During that time, we get to know our new traveling companion a little better. Glamis was an orphan of the Fringes, having been abandoned by his parents as a youngster, born a mutant. His parents, from the Southern cities, had been born mutants as well, but not so severe as to be noticeable. They'd kept their deformations hidden their entire lives. When they'd had Glamis, his body all lumps and tumors, they knew they were in trouble. Their child would draw suspicion, and all three would end up in a Judgment Square if something weren’t done.

They did the only thing that they could.

With a supply of rations and a few meager credits, Glamis' parents stowed him aboard an Engie, sending him to the Fringes where abominations could live without prejudice. Mostly. The only problem was that the Fringes are desolate, void of the natural resources that the rest of Eversummer enjoys. Food is scarce, survival isn't easy, and suicide is a common way out for many.

"But survives I did," Glamis explains. "My largeness gaves me the edges over others in competitions. And my brains. I'se was smarts, where others was not. Only problems I haves is with speeches. When Doctors Agoma and Ragyle come to Takay, they finds me easy. They sees my brains is larges. They teach me. In exchanges, I helps them in experiments."

It takes me a second to process this last comment. "You mean, you let them do tests on you?" I look around, and the question is obviously on everyone else's tongues as well.

Glamis nods. "Yes. They tryings to cure me. Sometimes they succeeds. Other times not."

I gape. "What does that mean? Sometimes?"

Glamis shrugs. "Sometimes I gets big, other times…I gets even bigger!" He laughs. "I never knows! But last times they makes me size I am now." He gestures to himself. "Biggest I ever been! I was but midget before!"

We all laugh, our new friend charming the hells outta us. "Glamis," I say. "Do you know what the Final Judgment is?"

The levity is broken.

"Yes," Glamis answers immediately. "It when mutations happen to everyone else."

"That's right," I confirm. "Glamis, when the Final Judgment happened, did it, um, affect you in any way?"

Glamis considers a moment. "No, it not. I'se was midget sizes before it happen. Half smaller than I am now." I stare at him, gaping. Half of Glamis' current size is still bloody huge! He continues. "Then Doctors Agoma and Ragyle find cure, test on me. It make me huges! That's why they know it work. It have opposite effects on pure human!"

Opposite effect? I wonder.

"Perhaps," Ursa breaks in with a raised eyebrow. "You mean to say, the cure makes original mutants worse, while it cures the new ones? The ones made by the Final Judgment?"

Glamis purses his lips. "Yesses, in essences."

Ursa looks unconvinced, but then she finally nods. "Work that way it could," she admits in an oddly backward way. "I will be very interested to meet these so-called Doctors."

Glamis looks uncertain of how to take that comment, but he turns away, looking out the window. "Attend!" He bellows, taking us all by surprise. "The the sun touches the horizon! Welcome to the Fringes, my strange new friends!" We all look out the window and see that Glamis is right. 

A spectacle I never expected to witness my entire life is about to take place. A spectacle most people never ever see.

The sun leaves the sky.

I gasp as it starts to dip below the saw-toothed formations of the rocky land behind us. The sky is painted in patches of purple and red–colors I've never seen there before. Shadows grow long, and a darkness creeps around me that feels wholly different than any I've ever experienced. Oh, I've experienced darkness before, but only in my bedroom during sleeping hours with the sunvisor drawn. 

Nothing like this. 

This is different. This feels...natural.

That's what it is. 

Something about this feels wholly right, like it should always be this way. It's like a switch just went off in my head. My body feels suddenly sluggish, fatigued. I want to sleep. I shouldn't though. After the calamity at the Manse in the grasslands, we'd rested nearly two weeks until Altair was well enough to travel. I should feel more than energetic.

But I don't.

All of a sudden...

"It's called Darklag," Altair says. I look around and realize Ursa and Traylor are both yawning too, while Altair and Glamis seem unaffected. "It's a common reaction when experiencing natural darkness for the first time," he says. "Or for the first time in a long time." 

"When you're traveling the other way, it's called Lightlag," Ursa offers. She's yawning again. I forget that she's been this way before. She'd lived in Everwinter for a time, after all.

"How long does it last?" I ask, genuinely concerned.

I feel like crap.

"As long as a good sleep to let your body adjust," Ursa replies.

"Great," I mumble.

I turn away from the setting sun and gaze out a window in the opposite direction. The horizon is flat and dark dead ahead, not a stitch of light in the sky.

My heart starts to flutter rapidly.

"Gods," I mutter, hand to my chest. "We're really going there, aren't we?" Ursa raises an eyebrow at me. "Everwinter," I say. "I guess I never really believed there could be a place without the sun in the sky. Is that crazy?"

"No, not crazies," Glamis offers. "I'se feels much the sames first time I sees sun high in sky in Eversummer. Everything is myth until experienced first-hand. There is no substitute for real things."  

He smiles at me awkwardly.

I smile back, surprised by his insight. "You're right, Glamis," I say. "You can listen to or read all the stories you like, but they will never do justice to real life experience."

"Isn't that what I'se just said?" Glamis smirks at me. It takes me a second to realize he's teasing me.

I laugh and gauge the dark horizon once more. Vague shapes are starting to take form.

A city?

"Is that it?" I ask Glamis. "Is that Takay?"

Glamis nods. "Is not much to looks at, I knows, but..." He trails off, staring at the skyline, suddenly lost in thought.

As we get closer, the vague impressions morph into square shaped buildings, some canted at sickening angles, looking ready to fall over. The largest building, a fairly tall rectangular prism standing on end, is missing one wall, revealing a vast cross-section of different floors, many caved in. I see movement in the building and realize people are there: living, working, scavenging. We pass a few outlying buildings, as well as piles of scattered refuse. This place really gives new meaning to the term 'wasteland'.

Is this where Eversummer sends all of its garbage? I wonder.

I see people–mutants now–picking and scavenging through the leavings. Most look emaciated and filthy, just eking out an existence in this horrible place.

"I tells you is not pretty," Glamis offers, seeing my dismay. "But Takay is not all bads. Laboratory is nice. Doctors Agoma and Ragyle keeps clean. It at center of town." Glamis points, but I'm not sure at what. Every building at the center of town has the same rundown look.

We pull into what passes for the Engie station in Takay.

It's a long and massive building, with what looks like an enclosure over the tracks. As we pull under it, I see it’s just a blank metal frame. It had probably held glass sheets at one time, but no longer. There are mutants lounging about the station, some seeming surprised by the Engie's appearance. More than a few look like the boys from the Manse–white skin and hair, reddish eyes–and a pang of sadness grips my heart.

Poor Tien.

There are also more 'normal' looking mutants here; people who were purebloods before the Final Judgment.

"Why would anybody want to live here?" I grumble. It seems an awful place to make one's home, let alone a research laboratory.

Glamis gestures to the people outside. "They'se probably feels much the sames you do if they goes to Eversummer," he replies. "Home is home, not matters where it is."

"I guess," I return, unconvinced.

"Before the Final Judgment," Ursa comes in, "mutants could escape persecution in the Fringes. There is no law. No religion. Some would consider that a paradise compared to the dogma one is subjected to in Eversummer."

I raise my eyebrows.

She's referring to my Father in an offhand way, but I don't blame her. If I had been a mutant before all this, I might have fled here too. Hells, I was never a mutant, and I often wanted to run from my Father's religious oppression.

The Engie finally grinds to a halt, the whistle blowing.

Altair fishes around in his pack and eventually produces two brown, rough-spun cloaks. "Put these on," he says to me and Traylor. "Keep the hoods up. No one here will bother you about them. There are no laws against it." He produces yet two more cloaks, handing one to Ursa and slipping the other on himself. "It will draw less attention if we all look and dress the same," he explains. "People will assume we belong to a sect, or cult, or something."

"Fair enough," I agree. "What about Glamis?" I gesture to the massive brute. No amount of disguising could hide what he truly is.

Altair shrugs. "I don't think there's a need. I assume you're fairly well known around here, Glamis?"

Glamis nods. "Oh yes! Glamis very well knowns and liked!"

"I think as long as we're with Glamis, we'll be fine," Altair says.

"This cure better be worth it," I mutter. "I'm getting sick of all this sneaking around."

"I was thinking the same thing," Ursa agrees with me as we climb out of the caboose.

 

 

 

 

36.

 

Glamis wastes no time.

He immediately leads us away from Takay Station, whistling a nameless tune as he does. "Doctors Agoma and Ragyle will be so pleased!" he mutters, taking us across a busy street and down a main thoroughfare. The way is clogged with horses, carts, and peddlers, hawking an abysmal selection of food and wares. Most of the buildings around here look abandoned, but people move in and out of them all the time. Most are dirty and disheveled, but there's a surprising sense of community that I find lacking in Krakelyn. These people are kindred spirits, whether they accept that fact or not.

Kids run in and out of the stalls, laughing and playing, while mutant dogs and cats wander about and beg for scraps. It's sad, but it's not depressing–if that makes any sense. Most of these people probably don't know any better anyway. There's a whole other way of life on the other side of the world, and they have no idea.

"I'm surprised my Father never organized a raid on this place," I mutter, leaping to avoid a pile of crap in my path. I don't know if belongs to an animal or a mutant.

Ursa, walking in front of me, turns and laughs. "Believe me," she confirms, "there was talk about that for a long time. Even before your Father was ever High Deacon. But the Fringes are just too far, too isolated, and too immense for the task to be worth the effort." She pauses, thinking. "They decided to send emissaries instead."

I laugh but try to hold it in. "Ha! You mean they tried to convert these people to the True Body Plan? Good luck!" I gesture to the squalor around me. "You'd have a better chance of convincing a bird to stay on the ground for its own good!"

"Yup," Ursa agrees with a knowing smirk.

We move off the main thoroughfare and head down less densely packed streets.

"Almost there!" Glamis confirms, his good cheer infectious.

"Is there food at this lab, Glamis?" Traylor pipes up for the first time in quite a while.

Glamis nods vigorously. "Oh yes! Very much so! You'se will be quite happy at labs!"

Nothing can make me happy anymore...

The thought runs through my mind before I can vet it. Flashes of Tien and Jude follow. I want to cry, but instead I yawn, pushing the hurt down.

I need a bloody nap, and soon. 

Five uneventful minutes later, Glamis runs ahead of us, stopping in front of a crumbling warehouse-like building and jumping up and down on the spot. 

"We'se here!" he exclaims. 

We join the massive mutant where he stands, staring at one another incredulously. The building is three stories tall, but the top two floors are nearly missing, blown away or crumbled. 

"This it is?" Ursa asks with disdain. I can read the thoughts on her face: Well this was a huge waste of time!

Glamis sees our disappointment and literally smacks himself on the forehead. "No! No! Silly womans! We goes under streets, like burrowing midgets!"

I try not to laugh, but even Altair's lips crack a weak smile. 

What is it with Glamis and midgets?

Glamis steps back into the street, finding a circular steel plate flush with the cobblestone, and wriggles his fingers into a couple of holes, pulling the object free. It crashes to the pavement with a clatter. There are plenty of people around, watching us, but Glamis doesn't seem to care.

"In," Glamis points without preamble. 

We all step up to the hole. A rusted metal ladder descends the side of a shaft, disappearing into darkness. We can see nothing. 

Suddenly, my claustrophobia kicks in. "No way," I say, shaking my head. "We don't even know what's down there! We–" I cut off as Altair steps up to the hole, dropping in, not bothering to use the ladder. We hear a soft thump immediately after. We hold our breaths in anticipation.

"All good," Altair's voice calls up to us.

Traylor smiles and dashes for the hole. It looks like he's about to drop down like Altair had, but then he climbs onto the ladder.

"How did you even know how deep the hole was?" I call down, moving to take my turn at the ladder.

"I didn't," Altair's snide reply echoes up. I can practically hear the smile on his face.

I climb on.

I'm assaulted by the stench of decay, mold, and stagnant water as I descend. Dripping water echoes all around me. My feet reach the bottom with a wet thud and Altair immediately has my hand, pulling me away from the only patch of light down here.

My eyes are adjusting though.

Ursa climbs down next, followed by Glamis, who just drops down like a rock. The mutant leans down and grabs a pole off the floor. There's a hook on the end of it. He quickly pokes the pole up and out the hole, using the hook to grab the lid and pull it back into place. We're submerged in total blackness.

I squeeze Altair's hand and, for a wonder, he pulls me in close.

"This way," I hear Glamis proclaim. His footfalls start moving away from us.

"Hey!" I call. "Got any lights down here?"

Glamis stops and huffs. "My apologies," he insists. "I forgets you simpletons can no see in darks. I rectify presently."

"Glamis can see in the dark?" I whisper to Altair.

"Apparently," is his own whispered response.

A muted glow suddenly grows out of the darkness. It's soft, at first, but steadily increases in intensity. When my eyes adjust, I see that the light has taken on a familiar form.

It's Glamis!

The oversized mutant's skin is literally glowing, emanating a bright yellow fuzz. Now that I can see my companions, I glance over at them to find that they are equally dumbfounded.

"Did your Doctors make you glow in the dark like this?" I ask, smiling to myself.

Glamis laughs. "Of course, silly humans! They makes my skins glow first, then see in dark eyes after. They never leaves laboratory. I does thats for them. They gives me body light to do so. I can now see if ambushed by midgets! Now come! Waste time we have enoughs! Time to meets Doctors!"

He starts moving again, and this time we follow gladly.

Glamis takes us down tunnel after tunnel, twisting here, turning there. I'm lost within minutes, but I'm more than certain Altair already has a map drawn in his head. Finally, the light from Glamis' body catches something reflective in this dull, smelly space. Sure enough, we come to a massive metal door that encompasses the entire tunnel.

"We's here!" Glamis announces. He moves to the side of the door and we hear the creak as he opens a panel. A blue glow shines out, mixing with Glamis' yellow, emanating from a large square surface. Glamis presses a gnarled hand to the panel. The panel flashes, then a message scrolls across its surface.

IDENTITY ACCEPTED. WELCOME HOME, GLAMIS.

I smile at that nice little touch. The Doctors must have taught this machine how to do it. 

Is that what this thing is? A thinking machine? 

Some of the machines in Krakelyn could learn, but only after you put the knowledge into them yourself. I can't remember what the mechanics back home call it. Programming, I think.

"Glamis," I ask, "is that thing a...a cumpewter?"

Machinery begins to whir within the massive door. 

Glamis, still glowing, eyes me warily. "I knows not this word," he replies.

I huff, trying to figure out how to phrase it. "You know, like a...a robot. A thinking machine without a body. Does that make sense?"

Glamis nods for a wonder. "Yes. I understands. But no, 'tis not thinking machine. 'Tis similar, but only do whats you tells it."

I nod as the door clicks open, swinging wide on its own. A sterile but brightly lit white hallway extends before us, terminating in another metallic door at the other end. 

Glamis gestures for us to proceed. "Sorrys," he apologizes, "but getting into labs somewhat a process. Many doors to goes through."

Ursa comes up beside me as we walk. "Working cumpewters are exceedingly rare," she says, sensing my disappointment at not having seen one for real. 

"Have you used one before?" I ask.

Ursa nods. "Oh yes, but not for ages now. As you know, Forerunner technology, where it hasn't been destroyed by the Deacons, is unreliable at best. Most scientists have learned to use cumpewters, but not how they work." She hesistates. "To the uninitiated, they have the appearance of something magical."

I nod. "I know. That's why I wanted to see one." I pause, contemplating. "Jude would have been so jealous. I–" I cut off as my eyes go wide. The words just slipped out, without thought.

I shake my head.

"I can't believe I just said that," I say.

Ursa puts an arm around me. "Give it time," is all she says.

We come to the door at the end of the hallway. I glance back to see that the first door we went through is now sealed shut.

If this is a trap, I think to myself, there ain't no escaping...

Glamis reveals yet another panel on the wall, but this time he puts his face up to it, a pale beam of light shooting out and washing over his face.

"I tells you is long process," the oversized mutant grins, blinking the light out of his eyes.

The door slides open, revealing a circular space. Glamis steps inside and we follow. The door slides shut and more machinery begins to whir in the walls. I feel the room start moving. At first, I think it's my claustrophobia kicking in, but then I realize that’s not it at all. 

"Are we moving?" I ask, incredulous.

Glamis shrugs. "Yes. 'Tis elevator." He gestures to the room we are in.

"I know not this word," I reply, smirking at the hulking giant.

A sudden buzzing noise sounds all around us and, by default, I defer to Altair. He looks just a clueless as I am though. A new light, red, suddenly switches on in the room, bathing us. I can feel it getting hotter by the second. 

"What the hells is this!" I hear Traylor panic.

Glamis laughs. "Sillys! Just 'tis decontamination."

Ursa gasps from beside me. "I've heard of such a thing!" she proclaims. "There are rumors of a lab with a fully working decontamination cycle! We thought it was all a pile of ashes though!"

"No, 'tis trues," Glamis replies. 

The buzzing noise sounds again, and this time the red light clicks off. My relief is instant, but I'm sweating like crazy. I can feel the room–elevator– beginning to slow its descent, finally stopping. 

I look up. "How far down are we?" I ask, not wanting to think about all the tons of dirt and rock above our heads. 

Glamis shrugs. "I knows not." And that’s all he has to say on the matter.

Traylor is snickering at my anxiety, but Ursa lends me some comfort with a hug.

The elevator door opens and Glamis gets out. "Welcomes to Laboratory Takay!" the mutant proclaims.

We step into a reception area of some sort, with a desk and waiting chairs off to one side. Most of the furniture is knocked over, everything coated in a thick film of dust. It's also kinda dark, and I look up to see much of the overhead lighting is burnt out. Oil fired lights.

This place has power, surprisingly.

I never thought I'd see such a luxury in the Fringes. 

Behind the desk, a large, three letter logo is plastered across the wall.

"BCM?" I ask, genuinely curious. "What does that stand for?"

"We's don't knows," Glamis replies, leading us past it. 

"Huh," is all I say.

Past the desk is a massive wall, and there's something strange about it. It's not all one color, but a series of smears and swirls. It's not until we get close that I realize what I'm seeing. It's a window! This whole side of the room is one giant pane of glass!

And it's filthy.

"Gross," I say, running a finger through the grime, creating a clean spot. "I thought you said this place was clean?"

Glamis shrugs. "Look cleans enough to me." I shake my head. I didn't realize cleanliness was subjective when talking to a mutant.

A door, set almost invisibly into the glass, suddenly bursts open, and one of the most bizarre looking creatures I've ever seen practically leaps through. The thing is fairly small–about my size–but it prefers to saunter about on its hands and feet. Its arms and legs are grossly overlong and rail thin, giving the creature a creepily insectile appearance. Its skin is hairless, and so dark that it’s nearly blue. What passes for its eyes are the same shade.

"Doctor Ragyle!" Glamis shouts with glee upon seeing the newcomer.

"Welcome back, Glamis!" Ragyle replies with a crooked smile. "And I see you did not return empty handed." Ragyle's eyes slither over to me and my companions, finally settling on me alone. His eyes go wide. "No, rather, it would seem you've outdone yourself this time! You shall be rewarded, Glamis!" Glamis looks ecstatic, but I start to wonder what goes on down here. This Ragyle creature has the look and feel of a snake. Ragyle pulls open the oversized tunic coat he’s wearing–a doctor's coat–and pulls something out.

A syringe.

Traylor recoils immediately, but I grab him by the shoulder.

Ragyle examines the syringe then tosses it aside. Traylor's relief beneath my grip is instant.

"Now where did I put..." Ragyle grumbles. "Ah!" The frail looking mutant finally produces a long thin wand from the multitudinous pockets of its coat. There's some sort of sensor on it, flashing red, where Ragyle grips the device. Then, without preamble, Ragyle saunters over to Traylor and begins to prod my little brother with the tip of the device.

Traylor actually giggles and swats the wand away. "Stop that!" he half-heartedly protests.

"Stop moving, please," Ragyle insists, moving to prod Traylor yet again. The boy looks at me for help, but I only laugh at him and shrug. Ragyle finally brings the rod to a stop at the top of Traylor's spine, poking him in the neck a few times. The device beeps twice, then Ragyle steps back, eyes wide and horrified.

"My gods," he whispers to himself. "It can't be!" He looks at the rod again, then back up at Traylor. "A pure strain of the human genome! AGOMA!" He suddenly screams. His voice echoes throughout the mostly silent facility and, less than a minute later, we hear the sound of running footfalls. 

Another creature bursts into the room.

I stare at this newcomer–Agoma–then back at Ragyle, comparing them in my mind, telling myself that I'm not seeing double.

Agoma is identical to Ragyle. 

"Glamis!" Agoma smiles upon seeing the mutant. "You have returned!" Agoma's eyes find us and he licks his lips. "What have you brought for us today, hmmm?"

Glamis opens his mouth to introduce us, but Ragyle cuts him off, waving the wand device in front of Agoma's face. "Give me that!" Agoma snarls, snatching it from his twin. Agoma inspects it, turning it over, staring at the blinking light on the handle.

"Bah!" he sneers. His eyes fall on Traylor. "This one?" he asks. Ragyle nods. Agoma steps over to Traylor and behind him, stabbing the wand into my little brother's neck just as his twin had. 

"Bloody hells," I hear Traylor grumble under his breath. I shoot him a warning glance and he settles. 

Agoma finally steps away, face baffled. "Impossible!" he breathes. "The wavelength of the pulse... There was no protection from it! All humans should have been affected..." He trails off.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Ragyle finally asks his twin. 

Agoma nods, but doesn't say anything.

"What?" I ask, stepping up. "What does it mean?" 

Agoma and Ragyle both stare me up and down. Agoma raises the wand toward me. 

"Don't bother," I say with a gesture toward Traylor. "We're siblings. I'm just as pureblooded as he is."

"Indeed," Agoma hisses. "But where did your pureblood come from?"

I look over at Ursa, thinking she might know the answer–being a scientist and all. But Ursa just shakes her head.

I turn back. "Okay,” I ask, “so what does that mean?"

Agoma and Ragyle exchange wary glances, as if telepathically deciding whether to reveal the information or not.

Finally, Ragyle sighs and looks me dead in the eye.

"It means that you and your brother were engineered," the Doctor answers.

 

 

 

 

37.

 

Agoma and Ragyle are leading us into the lab proper now, ignoring my questions the whole way.

"What the hells do you mean we were engineered?" I protest as we enter a central hallway with glass partitions along its length. Traylor is babbling his own agreement with me, but Altair, Ursa, and Glamis are silent. I keep looking back at Ursa for some sort of explanation–she's a scientist, she must know something about this–but her deformed face remains cast to the floor.

"Why'd you say anything if you're not gonna answer me?" I ask again, venom in my tone.

Agoma–who wears a darker colored coat than his twin–finally turns his head toward me and sighs. "Patience, Juno," he begs. "Let us run a few tests before jumping to conclusions. My sister may have spoken out of turn. I don't want to speculate any further, just in case we are wrong."

I scowl. "That sounds like a copout. I–" I cut myself off. "Did you just say 'your sister'?"

Ragyle laughs. "What? Did you mistake me for a male?" she asks.

I look to my other companions for some sort of support, but they're all just as baffled. Androgynous doesn't even begin to describe these creatures. Ragyle shrugs and continues to lead us further into the facility. We pass rooms, many looking abandoned, some with bed-like apparatus's situated inside circular scanners of some sort. Of course, I'm just guessing that's what all this stuff is. My limited knowledge of Forerunner technology is all I've got to go on. 

Most of the doors are circular, like portholes, and the Doctors finally arrive and stop at one. Ragyle presses a spider-like hand to a scanner and the portal twists open, revealing the first room I've seen here that actually appears sterile and clean. There's a massive crystalline table at the center, overhung by a series of floating images, visible from all angles. Numbers and other data scroll continuously across them.

"My gods!" my eyes bulging in delight. "Is this what I think it is?"

Ursa finally breaks her stupor and greets me with a smile.

"It is, Juno," she replies. "A cumpewter!"

I rush into the room, bathed in the red light pouring from the instrumentation, feeling like a child on Xmast Eve. I say, "I've found parts of these things washed up on the beach in Krakelyn! I never thought I'd ever see a working one in the flesh, so to speak."

I whirl to face Agoma and Ragyle. "Do these machines think for themselves?" I ask, my former indignation forgotten for the moment. The Doctors don't hear me though. They've already got Traylor lying down on the table, both working frantically at panels and buttons as mechanical appendages from the ceiling appear and lower themselves toward my brother. Red light pours out of one arm and runs its way along his little body. Immediately, an image appears on one of the screens.

But I find it hard to reconcile.

It's Traylor's body–the image moves in time with his breathing–but it's almost as if I'm actually seeing right through him!

Agoma and Ragyle converse briefly, then Ragyle looks upward and says, "Blood type please, Asima. Focus on genetic impurities."

"YES, DOCTOR RAGYLE," a mechanical, but undeniably female voice responds from seemingly out of nowhere.

My heart palpitates. "Is the cumpewter talking?" I ask Ursa, not wanting to disturb the Doctors for even a second. 

Ursa nods, but she seems shocked too. "Indeed. I have never witnessed such a thing!" She smiles. "Juno, if I'd of had access to technology like this before you–"

She cuts off as suddenly the voice of Asima–the cumpewter–resounds once more. "ANALYSIS COMPLETE. SUBJECT: HUMAN MALE. TRAYLOR QUINN. ONE HUNDRED PERCENT OF GENOME PRESENT. PLUS MODIFIERS. DOCTORS, THE PULSE COULD NOT BREAK THROUGH THE PROTEIN MODIFIERS. THEY ACTED AS A SHIELD."

"Amazing!" Agoma and Ragyle both exclaim at the same time. I still can't believe that these twins are actually separate genders. 

"What does that mean?" I ask, bewildered. The Doctors ignore me, ushering Traylor off the table now. I turn to Ursa, but she's pulled back within herself for some reason. 

Agoma grabs me by the arm, pulling me toward the table now. I can sense his excitement. "Okay, just take it easy!" I say, crawling onto the surprisingly cold surface. The red light glowing within it made me assume it would be warm.

The Doctors set to work again and, just like Traylor, instruments from the ceiling scan my body. A see-through image of my body appears onscreen. I find myself becoming self-conscious, every part of me exposed. I'm blushing hard as I look toward Altair. I can see my bones, my veins, my beating heart.

The feeling is surreal. 

Asima, the cumpewter, finishes its scan and speaks once more: "ANALYSIS COMPLETE. SUBJECT: HUMAN FEMALE. JUNO QUINN. ONE HUNDRED AND ONE PERCENT OF GENOME PRESENT. PLUS MODIFIERS. LIKE HER BROTHER, HER GENOME CONTAINS A SYNTHETIC PROTEIN SHIELD."

Agoma and Ragyle chatter excitedly.

"The pulse is what caused the mutations during the Final Judgment, isn't it?" I ask, turning my head toward the preoccupied scientists. They both nod. I turn my head toward Altair. "The pulse came from the Box Jude and I found on the beach." He nods too.

"Her genome is just as pure," I hear Agoma saying to Ragyle. "So how can she have one hundred and one percent purity?"

I sit up. "I'd like to know that too," I say. I look at Traylor. Did our Father submit us to genetic experimentation before we were born? Was he that desperate to have 'normal' children after discovering his wife was missing a toenail?

I know the answer is yes, but don't want to admit it.

Agoma and Ragyle turn toward me, quiet now for the first time. "You're a mutant," they both say at the same time.

I blink, sure I must have misheard. "Say again?”

"Juno," Ragyle takes my hand, "you have the same pure strands of DNA as your brother, but you have something extra. Something added after the fact. We might call it a mutation, but not in the traditional sense. As far as we can tell, it has no effect on you whatsoever." She hesitates, shaking her head. "We don't know what it is, but it was put there for a reason. Juno, who are your parents?"

I exchange a nervous glance with Altair, but he nods his consent. I sigh. "My Mother died when I was eight. I barely knew her. My Father...was the High Deacon of Krakelyn in Eversummer."

Agoma and Ragyle gasp simultaneously. 

"Jonathan Quinn," Agoma whispers.

"I see you've heard of him," I reply, unsurprised.

Agoma nods, eyes wide. "Few in this world have not. He's the reason we conduct our research in the Fringes. I don't think there was a mutant before the Final Judgment who did not fear that name."

"I know," I sigh. "Sorry about that." The Doctors back away from me, fearful now. "Don't worry," I soothe, "I don't share his beliefs or practice his religion. We clashed about it all the time. I worshipped the Forerunners, if anything."

The Doctors both relax at that and smile. Even Ursa seems proud. "Good," they say, "because we need your blood, Juno. Traylor too. It's the last piece of the puzzle we require to synthesize our cure. We can undo what the pulse did during the Final Judgment. After that, we can commence testing. Then the real problem will be distribution. It won't be easy getting the cure out to the world, especially with radical groups like the Children of Mutanity now worshipping the mutant form. They don't know that the pulse made them all sterile. Humanity will die out in a generation if we let them stop us."

I look over at Altair, recalling how my Father had told us this exact same thing. "We know," I say. "It's the whole reason we're here to begin with." I pause. "But the Children of Mutanity shouldn't be a problem anymore. Their leader is dead."

Agoma and Ragyle put on shocked faces.

"Actually, Juno," Altair speaks up for the first time in a while, "while Blaine may be dead, their ideals live on. True, Blaine was their titular head, but there are still sects all over Eversummer with various sub-leaders. We still have to be careful who we give this cure to."

I sigh, rolling my eyes. "Of course we will." Why is it that when things start going our way, it’s still not easy?

Ragyle places a gentle hand on my shoulder and eases me back down on the table. "Hold still, Juno, please," the mutant woman says. "We're going to take some of your blood now." My anxiety ramps up, but I acquiesce. The Doctors go to work on the cumpewter, and now more instruments appear overhead; including a probe that could only be used for drawing blood. It's long, thin, and menacing. I hear Traylor's fearful trepidation at the sight of it. I smile at him, showing him that it's really no big deal. He'll have to do this too. The probe is just inches above my arm when it stops and a sudden alarm starts blaring. 

I bolt up on the table. "What's that?" I yell over the din.

Agoma and Ragyle look panicked, stabbing at the cumpewter madly.

"FIRE ON LEVEL SEVEN," the familiar mechanical voice of Asima surrounds us. Seconds later, we all feel a soft rumbling throughout the complex.

"That felt more like an explosion," Altair says, his trusty throwing stars already at hand.

Agoma waves him down. "It's probably a false alarm," the Doctor says. "It happens sometimes. This facility is from the time of the Forerunners. Breakdowns happen all the time."

"Check it out I wills!" Glamis says, his hulking form stepping forward. He'd been lurking quietly near the lab entrance ever since we'd entered, probably just wanting to stay out of the way now that he's no longer the guinea pig here.

"I'll go with you," Altair says, joining the mutant at the entrance.

"Don't go!" Traylor begs, the fear bright in his eyes.

"Safer heres you will be," Glamis admonishes. Altair agrees.

Traylor backs down.

"We'll be right back," Altair assures. Glamis opens the portal and the pair disappears. I lay back down on the table, turning my head toward the Doctors.

"Let's get this over with," I say, staring at the needle poised just above my body.

 

 

 

 

38.

 

He feels the cool metal of his throwing stars in his hands.

The elevator door slides open and, despite his protests, Glamis leads the way, bursting down the hall. "Slow down!" Altair orders. "We don't know what we're getting into yet!"

Glamis does slow, but there's contempt in his eyes. "I'se no midget, Altairs!" the giant mutant sneers. "There is not a mutant in Fringes I'se cannot snaps with bare hands!" As if to illustrate the point, he wrings his oversized appendages together.

"I know," Altair agrees, "but that's not what I'm worried about." He rubs his fingers along the smooth metal of his throwing stars again. The hall is dark, but there's a muted glow coming from the other end.

Fire.

The hall is filling with smoke.

Altair pulls the neck of his tunic up as a makeshift filter, but Glamis proceeds heedless, seemingly unaffected by the toxic fumes. They finally reach a small room that looks like it might have been an office at one time, now completely engulfed in smoke. The fire itself seems to be contained to one source–a pile of furniture on a desk in the corner. Altair scans his surroundings, quickly determining that there is no obvious cause for it. The furniture, all wooden, stacked together on a wooden desk, raises his suspicions immediately.

Glamis clomps over to the fire, stepping up to it as if there’s nothing to fear. Altair quickly sees that, for this giant mutant, there really isn't. Glamis raises a huge booted foot, bringing it deliberately down on the desk, shattering it and all the furniture at once, sending embers scattering but smoldering the majority of the flames. He stamps a few more times and the fire is mostly out. He steps away, joining the stunned Altair at the doorway. 

"'Tis bizarre place for fire to burns," the mutant says. "This old buildings is funny that ways."

Altair raises an eyebrow. "You think this was accidental?" He enters the room properly now to investigate.

Glamis shrugs. "It happens befores. Why would someones be wanting to start fires here?"

Why indeed?

Altair doesn't answer. He finds what he's looking for.

Proof.

He picks the tiny, shiny, circular pin off the ground and lifts it up for Glamis to inspect. 

"Grenado," Altair grumbles, Assassin's instincts kicking in. Every shadow in the room now seems like a threat.

Glamis' eyes bulge comically. "I knows of grenados!” he exclaims. “They goes... BOOMS!" The mutant spreads his hands for emphasis. "But why would someones set ones off in..." Glamis trails off, meeting Altair's cold gaze.

"Diversion," Glamis nearly whispers.

Altair nods. He drops the pin, already in a full dash for the hallway, Glamis in hot pursuit.

Juno! He screams in his mind.

 

 

 

 

39.

 

The needle pulls from my skin, leaving a sharp stinging and a raised welt. I feel like I've been drained of most of my blood, like in the stories I'd heard about Everwinter mutants as a child. Everwinter mutants supposedly eat their own flesh and drink their own blood, as no other food sources are available in the frozen wastes. When we were younger, I remember pinching Traylor's skin in his sleep, creating two distinct red marks to make him think the needle-like teeth of an Everwinter mutant had sunk in while he slept.

Come to think of it, that's probably why he has such an aversion to needles now.

I look over at my little brother, watching me on the medical table with a pale, terrified expression. I rub my arm. The pain's still there, but it's subsiding.

"See, Traylor?" I smile. "No big deal."

He shakes his head. He's gonna be a drama queen about this, as usual.

Agoma and Ragyle are already working on my blood, commanding the cumpewter to pour it into separate vials. "What do you think?" Agoma asks his sister. "Who should be the first trial?"

Ragyle considers, then shakes her head. "Normally, I would suggest Glamis, but Glamis has done so much for us already. And for so little in return. What if it doesn't work? What if it only makes things worse? I think we owe it to Glamis to try it on ourselves first."

"I will volunteer," a voice sounds from the recesses of the room. We'd nearly forgotten about Ursa, sullen and silent since we got here.

What is up with her anyway?

Agoma and Ragyle seem hesitant, then both nod in unison. "Very good!" Ragyle says. "As a mutant, Ursa, you are a fine specimen." Ragyle gestures toward me. "Juno, you can step off the table now and–"

KRAKOOOM!!!

A warm wave of air blasts into the room, pushing me with it. I roll off the table, crashing to the floor. Agoma, Ragyle, and Ursa have similarly taken cover on the ground. I can't see Traylor anywhere. My first thought is that he was caught in the explosion.

My heart pounds. 

No, Traylor was on the opposite side of the room from the explosion.

The explosion...

I roll on the floor to get a look at the portal into the room. There's a gaping rent where the door used to be, hemorrhaging smoke and fire. Out of the cacophony, six ghostly forms emerge like something out of my nightmares. It must be a delusion, I tell myself, brought on by my earlier reminiscences about the mutants of Everwinter.

The stories.

The creatures are tall–massive–though not quite as big as Glamis. They have skin of the purest white, almost blue, in fact. Their hair is pale blue too, each with its own style or disarray. They come into the room and set upon the Doctors first, lifting the frail mutants into the air as if they are mere babes. I'm still hidden behind the table, but the creatures are getting closer. Smoke distorts the room, the only advantage I have in hiding. A massive, six-toed foot slams down next to my head, each digit ending in an onyx talon. Six toes! Is this the creature that had washed up on the beach in Krakelyn? Was this the creature that torched Ursa's lab in Venecici? I stare at those toes in fear and awe. I see now that what I’d mistaken for skin is actually a tight coating of sleek fur, not unlike the ocean seals I once saw when Father took Traylor and I on a family excursion north of Krakelyn.

That was such a happy time. It's weird to be recalling it now.

Through the smoke, I hear the owner of the foot snuffling, smelling about for further intruders. I ease myself backward, trying to think of what Altair would do in this situation. I hear a scream, followed by the unmistakable cracking of bone.