Erik Otto - Detonation

This woman from the north, this Cecile, was difficult to figure out. Her skin was less sun-weathered than people from Seeville. She seemed to always wear all-black outfits, and she had a streak of blue dye in her hair. Stranger than the look of her were her mannerisms. Sure, she spoke with a French accent, but more unnerving was her tendency to stare at you without flinching. It had more than once unhinged Owen and a few others in the group.

Owen didn’t know about where she came from, but in Seeville, it wasn’t polite to stare. In fact, if she wasn’t so cozy with lords like Henneson, soon she might find herself staring out of two black eyes.

Lord Henneson and Cecile finally made their way over to their fire. Henneson sat down on a stump and poked at the fire with a stick. His gray goatee seemed to bristle and his deep brown eyes reflected the orange cinders. As a lord of Seeville, he held more gravitas than anyone in the campsite, yet his demeanor was relatively disarming and straightforward. Thankfully he hadn’t preached any of his Adherent’s gospel on the trip, or surely Owen’s ignorance would’ve been exposed.

Henneson kept his gaze on the flames as he spoke. “We’re not hunting game tomorrow. We’re going into Essentialist territory.”

Owen glanced over at the other men. Noke and Jakson were unreadable, but Preston’s eyes had opened wide.

Henneson lifted his burning stick from the fire and poked it through the air as if it were a bird. Then he veered the stick downward and snuffed out the flame in the damp soil. “The flaming arrow seen in the sky two nights ago. That’s what we seek.”

He looked up at them. “It will be dangerous. Our goal is to go in, get what we need, and then get out as fast as possible. We must not alert the Essentialists. We will split up to cover more ground, and to try to remain hidden. Cecile will be leading you. I’ll be with another squad.”

He paused, letting them process the information, then continued. “I know Cecile is a foreigner, but she has my full backing. Follow her orders, do your job, and then get out. Do you understand?”

They all nodded slowly.

Owen quelled an urge to voice an objection. Instead of a casual hunting foray along the ridge, they would be heading deep into the valley, possibly facing the heinous Essentialists. He kept his mouth in a morose but firm straight line.

Henneson stood up and threw his stick into the fire. “Good luck tomorrow, and be careful. Novation is damnation.” Then he turned around and headed back to his own tent.

Cecile lingered, watching the group from behind where Henneson was sitting. Noke spoke first, his skepticism evident. “A flaming arrow in the sky? Is this some riddle from his Adherent gospel? Let’s speak plainly. What is it that we really seek, Quebecker?”

Cecile’s expression was masked by the gloom. “It’s Quebecois . But to answer your question, it’s not an arrow. We believe it’s a satellite, a downed satellite. No games. That’s the truth.” Her accent was thick, with rolling r sounds and hard th sounds, yet her words were clear enough.

Owen had heard the rumors about a flaming arrow in the sky, but thought nothing of it. Children made up things like this all the time. Most people from Seeville thought satellites were Old World myths, one of many pre-Detonation contraptions that were too difficult to imagine, especially when no one had ever seen a working car or telephone.

Cecile addressed their confused looks. “A satellite is like a pod, or a ship, that circles around the earth in the stars above us. They were used to help people talk to each other over long distances and to look down on the earth, back when there was electricity. We have accounts from people in Seeville about how it came down, so we know it landed in the valley beyond Skyline.”

“So why are Owen and I here?” Preston asked. “We’re not hunters or enforcers. We’re not trained to fight the SLS.” Owen nodded to reinforce the question. Preston was always willing to ask the questions that he was too afraid to.

Cecile moved to sit down on the stump where Henneson had been sitting, her face becoming more exposed to the light. Her eyebrow tilted up into a chevron. “Why do you think we invited you on this expedition?” she asked.

Preston’s mouth opened halfway, but he didn’t answer.

“Yes, I know about your tinkering in electronics, both of you.” She turned her head toward Owen, her eyes sending a ripple of nerves through him. “I believe there may be some pre-Detonation technology in the satellite. You might be able to help me retrieve it, so we can properly evaluate it, before the Essentialists do.”

It felt like invisible ants were crawling up Owen’s chest. How could they know about his tinkering? He said, “I know we’re not supposed to tinker, but there are so many things we could learn. Back in the—”

She cut him off. “ Non, non t’inquiet pas ,” she said. “I know you have been taught to worry about such things—the three fears and all that. But we’re all adults here, right? We know how to be careful. So don’t worry.”

“Correction,” she added ruefully after letting her response sink in. “Worry, but just not about that.”

Owen wasn’t so sure the others shared Cecile’s view. Sure, it wasn’t like the old days, like Okafor’s time, but many folks in Seeville still had entrenched superstitions about Old World devices. Many would question why they needed to “evaluate” the satellite at all.

Jakson seemed to read Owen’s mind. He nudged his chin in the direction of Henneson’s tent. “The lords, they’re okay with you playing around with this Old World tech? I can’t imagine Henneson agreeing to that.”

Cecile eyed Jakson warily. “Now, be careful what words you use,” she said. “I didn’t say we would be playing around with it . I asked for Preston and Owen because they could help me access the satellite, and maybe understand what’s in it. Lord Henneson has agreed, I assure you.”

Then Cecile’s eyes focused, and her gaze went rigid, boring into Jakson. “But are you okay with that, Jakson? Are you going to follow your orders?”

Jakson stared back at Cecile. His eyes were dark pools reflecting the fire. For a moment Owen thought he was going to say no. But then he looked down and said, “Sure. Doesn’t bother me a lick.”

Cecile peeled her eyes away from Jakson and looked at the rest of them. “That goes for all of you. I fully expect you to follow orders. And nothing said or done here is spoken about in Seeville, understand?” She looked at each of them in turn, gauging their responses. When she reached Owen, she hovered a long time with her eyes, just long enough to make him uncomfortable. Owen withered under her glare and looked down, waiting for her to move on.

Finally, Cecile stood up. “I’ll tell you more tomorrow. We need to be alert, so get some rest. Lord Henneson isn’t kidding. It will be dangerous.”

“ Bon soir ,” she added, and without asking, she poured her canteen out on the fire, sending up a twirling tornado of smoke and sparks. When the smoke dissipated, she was gone.

No one relit the fire. They all followed Cecile’s orders and adjourned for the evening. Owen meandered over to his tent at the periphery of the campsite, close to the struggling stream.

Owen was like a rolling pin that night, kneading every corner of his thin foam sleeper with his tossing and turning. He kept reminding himself he needed to sleep, but the reminder only made him more agitated. It wasn’t so much the danger they might face the next day. Their knowledge of his covert tinkering had unnerved him.

When he finally did find sleep, he had a vivid dream—a dream his mind unearthed from long ago.