Rook Winters - Weight of Ashes

The video of Clint Donovan looked like a rush job. His face wasn’t centered in the frame and distracting shadows danced when his head and hands moved.

“Marsh, I’m recording this as a backup in case something happens before I can explain everything in person. It’s time, old friend.”

Clint changed to a different language and Polk paused the playback several seconds in.

“What the hell is he talking?”

“French. And a bit of Latin.”

“What kind of unholy hensuckle are you two mixed up in that you’re talking in dead languages?”

“French isn’t a dead language.”

“It is here, but that’s beside the point. I need to know what he’s saying.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because I need to know what I’m mixed up with. An old man and a kid from the woods show up with a data vault in a piece of bone with a video of some guy in a science uniform talking in French and nacking Latin? This ain’t some water purifier falling off the back of a transport. If you guys are Claimers, you better tell me right now and then get out of my town while you still can.”

“We’re not Reclamationists. Yes, he was a state-licensed scientist. So was I until I chose a different path. We spoke French when we were young and we learned Latin in school because that’s the language of scientific naming. It’s just our way. Nothing sinister or treacherous there.”

“He said in case something happens and that it’s time. Doesn’t sound like a trip down memory lane to me.”

“If you’ll play the rest of the video, I’ll let you know.”

“I play, you translate. In real time.”

“Fine.”

Polk started the video from the beginning and Marsh translated.

“It’s time, old friend. I hope things have gone well for you and that your people are keeping alive some of the old ways. Our work here has proceeded as you predicted it would years ago. No doubt you’ve heard rumors. Temperature translation suits, gravity control equipment modified for human operators, and lots of genetic engineering. We’ve raised children with tolerance for extreme gravity variations and even high g-force acceleration. One kid could carry on a conversation at 14g.

“We’ve also had success with introducing thermal vision. One group of subjects had hybrid vision, able to see colors and temperatures. From a scientific point of view, it has been incredible.

“But I’ve been uncomfortable with the way patients have been managed for a long time. Like animals instead of people. With the help of allies in the Qyntarak leadership, I was able to get new policies implemented so that patients could at least live with the families of the human researchers instead of in glorified cages. I was raising a girl myself. Elle, a clever and resourceful young woman. If all goes according to plan, you will have met her already. Although, if you’re watching this, we’re on plan B.

“Elle’s become like my own daughter. If something has happened to me, please look after her.

“All those years ago, we agreed on a few things when the two of us decided to go separate ways.”

Marsh said two but that was not an accurate translation. On the video, Clint had said trois. Three, not two. It was a calculated risk—it didn’t seem like Polk knew any French and Marsh didn’t trust him enough to talk about Nora.

Polk didn’t notice the brief deception, and Marsh continued to translate without faltering.

“We agreed to focus on the big picture and the long game. That we would do our small part to protect humanity, to contribute in some way to the long-term survival of our people even if we were no longer the dominant species on our own planet. We agreed that if our personal situations ever demanded it, we would be available for each other. Most importantly, we agreed that we would not sit idly by if the situation ever became so dire that it demanded action.

“Well, my friend, the situation has become dire. My contacts in the leadership leaked to me that a new law is coming. Humans are being reclassified. We will effectively become livestock.”

Polk stopped the playback again. “I told you if you were Claimers to get out. This maniac sounds like a Claimer propagandist to me.”

Marsh felt lightheaded. “And I already told you we’re not Claimers. I don’t believe Clint was either. He’s not a radical or an activist. But if what he’s saying is true…”

“I want you out. Pay your bill and leave.”

“We’re not paying until we see the whole thing.”

“Listen, old man,” Polk said and gripped Marsh’s shirt sleeve. Walker, who had been watching silently, grabbed Polk’s wrist and twisted it. The man was a couple decades older but the boy was strong from a life of manual labor. Polk lost his grip on Marsh and swore at Walker. “You two are a pain in the ass. Get out.”

“Let’s all just settle down,” Marsh said. “Polk, you and I have a decent history. You’re a business man. This video is just the rambling of an old man who’s dead now anyway. Let it play and get paid. No one will ever know we were here.”

Polk’s eyes rolled upward as he considered the situation. Whether persuaded by the silver or the unexpected strength of Walker’s grip or an urge to hear the rest of the video, Polk resumed the playback without further comment.

Marsh listened then said, “It’s time for Elle and me to follow your lead. We are abandoning the research lab to live off the land where we can still enjoy some freedom. If something happens to me, I pray that you will welcome Elle into your community. She is smart and has a strong work ethic. I hope you never have to hear this message. I am looking forward to seeing you face to face soon.”

“That’s it?” Polk said. “No offense to your friend but that was a little underwhelming at the end.”

“You know us old scientist folks.”

“Now you leave and I don’t want to see you again. Next time you need to acquire something for your little commune, go elsewhere, understand?”

“As you say.” Marsh dropped three rough silver coins and seven copper ones into Polk’s outstretched hand.

Polk frowned at the sum. “That’s not enough.”

“That’s all we have.”

Polk clamped his hand shut. “Then you’d better go and don’t bother coming back to Alma at all. No one’s going to deal with you once I spread word that you can’t pay your fees. I hope hearing from your dead pal was worth it.”

Marsh clasped Walker’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

They left the tavern and then the town in silence.

Once they were well beyond the last building, it was Walker who broke the silence. “That doesn’t seem like it was worth it.”

“No, I suppose it would seem that way if my translation had been accurate. Clint didn’t ask us to welcome Elle into our community.”

Three clangs of the bell.

Bear in the village.

Court swung his feet to the ground from the bunk he’d been napping on.

“Elle?”

No reply.

Where is she?

The fog from sleep was still heavy as he pulled on his boots.

Apple picking, she went harvesting with some villagers.

He grabbed a pot and a wooden spoon on his way outside. A bear would leave on its own if given the chance. It didn’t want to be around humans any more than the humans wanted it in their village. Court just had to follow protocol—make sure none of the children were roaming in the wrong spot and bang a pot to encourage the animal to move northward through the cabins. He’d done it at least a dozen times over the years.

A mother and daughter were returning to their cabin next to Court’s, the little girl almost running to keep up with her mom.