Chapter 11: First Doubts

"Research Log, Year 9, Month 6, Day 20 (Day 2,943)

“I’m beginning a new phase in Mada’s education, though maybe I should have begun sooner. One day, if all goes to plan, Mada will be revealed to the world and integrated into diordna society. I can’t keep him hidden forever, and eventually, I will be sent to war. I have to prepare him for the day that he will have to take care of himself. In order to prepare him for that day I’ve devised two plans, one social and one combative.

“If… WHEN he’s accepted as diordna these skills will be of great use to him. And when he’s drafted like the rest of us I intend to have him prepared as best I can for anything he might encounter.”

Ekivia stumbled slightly as Iakedrom pushed her and the other prisoner into the tenth-floor apartment. They’d run through the city, trying to stay ahead of the attacking army, but had been unable to do so. Earlier they’d ducked into a building, and luckily it wasn’t one that was burned down. Seemed that the army was burning and searching buildings in a pattern, one Iakedrom identified surprisingly quickly. Ekivia was a little embarrassed that she hadn’t seen it as quickly.

Once the army started to condense they snuck closer to their line. Iakedrom said that the officers in the city must have stalled the invasion, forcing the army to bunker down. They couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like their best bet to try and sneak past the enemy line to reach safety on the other side of the city. This building was close to the line, only a couple blocks from the back of the army.

Fosia closed the door behind them, leaving a crack that she watched the hall through.

Ekivia looked around the room. It was pretty standard for the area. This apartment was a 3 LDK, meaning it had three bedrooms, a kitchen, and a combined living and dining area. Two of the bedrooms were to either side of the entrance, making a short hallway that led to the living and dining area at the back, and the third bedroom was just off the main living space. It was a nice space, one Ekivia wouldn’t have minded except for the lack of an office for her books and research. She would have needed to spend quite a bit to convert the third bedroom, and she didn’t think it would fit all her books. It even had a small deck at the very back of the apartment, and the door was open, letting in a light breeze. It was a door made entirely of vines so that when the branch was triggered the entire thing could peel back on itself instead of swinging into the room. They were more expensive, but Ekivia always liked them.

The room seemed almost like a painting of someone’s home, only without the family who lived there. There was a snack on the kitchen counter, ironpod with a knife still in it. Someone left a book open on a chair near the deck door, and two more chairs sat near the table that was grown into the floor with enough distance between it and the deck door that someone could sit back from the table without running into it.

She could hear a news bird in the other room, repeating a warning about the attack and encouraging residents to move west as quickly as possible. The birds were basically the same as calling birds, working on the same basic principles except that they only received signals instead of transmitting their own back, and they all received the same signal from one source. Ekivia’s work on calling birds had a lot of crossover with these. Its message was the same they’d heard coming from several other rooms on the way up, and Ekivia was glad they found an empty apartment instead of one with a dead family leaking their life into the floor-branches.

“Sit down over there,” Iakedrom said, pointing to the floor near the table. “And don’t move.”

Ekivia and the other prisoner did as they were ordered.

“Think we’ll be ok here?” Fosia asked Iakedrom.

“I hope so,” He replied. “I’ll watch the street from the balcony.”

“We’ll be fine,” The other prisoner said. “They won’t burn this one.”

She spoke almost like a child with a secret.

Ekivia waited for an explanation for her confidence, but none came. According to the pattern they’d identified, this building shouldn’t be burned, but that could always change. This strange prisoner’s confidence didn’t really help calm Ekivia’s nerves.

Iakedrom approached the balcony door, looking out for a moment. He seemed distracted, not really looking at anything in particular, eyes unfocused as he walked by them to reach the deck. He only stood watch for a moment before he turned back toward Ekivia.

“Keep an eye out, but don’t be seen,” He said. “We don’t want to be surprised.”

She nodded uncertainly and stepped out onto the balcony.

“You too,” he said to the other prisoner who complied, smiling wickedly at the officer as she passed him.

Iakedrom took the ends of their ropes and tied them together around the table’s single leg sprouting from the floor of the apartment. Reminding them with a look not to try and escape, he went to speak with his partner at the door.

“I’m Es…” The other prisoner began, then her eyes widened and filled with pleasure as though something important had just occurred to her. “Yelis.”

She smiled widely, awkwardly reaching out to shake hands even though they were both tied at the wrists. Something about her at that moment seemed familiar to Ekivia, though she couldn’t quite identify what.

Ekivia met her eyes then glanced at her outstretched hands, not wanting to return the greeting. This nawo was a criminal after all. Technically Ekivia was too, but this nawo was a real criminal. She met Yelis’ eyes again and realized the na hadn’t noticed the turmoil she’d caused with something as simple as a handshake.

She looked somehow familiar to Ekivia, though she couldn’t quite identify why. She was tall, like Ekivia herself. Her nose was large but attractive, and her eyes had sharp corners that the nawo accented with her face paints. Beneath the paint, the nawo’s skin was iron like Ekivias, though there were fewer red swirls than most Drolites and Ekivia wondered what made this nawo different.

One of her hands was bandaged, and Ekivia saw a little oil had soaked through the cloth. It would need to be changed, as would Ekivia’s arm bandage, but that would have to wait until they made it to safety.

Ekivia reached out with her bound hands and took the nawo’s unhurt hand awkwardly in hers. “Ekivia.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Yelis said. “I just wanted to shake your hand. You’re quite brilliant you know.”

“So I’ve heard.”

The nawo laughed genuinely, although Ekivia had meant it more as a dismissal than a joke. “What happened to your arm?”

Ekivia glanced down at the bandage around the bonelet wound. “Nailil shot me.”

“Who’s Nailil?” Yelis asked.

“The priestess who died at the Officer’s House,” Ekivia said.

“Well, serves her right then,” Yelis said.

The statement made Ekivia uncomfortable. The Priestess was a representative of Dytie and so deserved respect from them, but Ekivia felt the same way, which made her even more uncomfortable.

“I got the feeling that Fosia and Iakedrom wanted to do the same to me a few times,” Yelis continued with a chuckle. “Look at this.”

She held her hands up toward Ekivia so she could see the wounded one. There was a little dried blood on her fingertips.

“What happened?” Ekivia asked, nodding toward Iakedrom of Fosia. “Did they do this to you?”

Yelis laughed. “More like I did it to them. The blood is from Iakedrom’s prosthetic. I stabbed it, though not very deeply. The only weapon I could reach was my own skin, so it wasn’t very effective.”

“What do you mean?” Ekivia asked, feeling a chill run through her.

“I, uh…” Yelis began but seemed to change her mind. “Don’t worry about it. So why’d he arrest you? Iakedrom only deals with the interesting ones after all. Was it something to do with that Mada guy he mentioned?”

“That’s... I was...” Ekivia stumbled over her words. “I was doing some research that someone didn’t want me doing.”

“Same here,” Yelis said. “As I said, we’re the interesting ones. Some new invention?”

“Something like that,” Ekivia said, uncomfortable with the questions. “What were you brought in for?”

“I was doing some research too,” Yelis said. “Did you know that you can scoop up a patch of dirt almost anywhere, as far as we can tell anyway, and there will be annam in it? It’s not noticeable really, but it’s there.”

“I did not,” Ekivia said. Annam was what they called the living metal that wasn’t diordna.

“Well you can,” Yelis said. “The annam collects things in the dirt, then clumps together to make pods. But by then they’re different, a single structure like diordna cells instead of smaller, almost insect-like structures crawling around individually.”

“So you were studying annam cells?” Ekivia asked. “What about that got you arrested?”

“Well, they didn’t like the direction I was taking the research.” Yelis hesitated before continuing. “Something about them grabbed my attention. I thought they seem like tiny diordna, and I wanted to do a comparison of the two, see what I could learn. If we could figure out how and why they act so strangely maybe we could figure out how to make our own cells act differently too like we do with animal cells.”

A shiver ran down Ekivia’s spine, fear coloring her sight involuntarily as she remembered her skin acting on its own.

“It was you.” The words came out as little more than a released breath.

“What was me?”

“You’re the one calling herself Esile,” Ekivia said.

“Well… I was,” Yelis said. “But it’s not my real name. Yelis is my real name.”

“Then my skin,” Ekivia said, nodding toward her wounded arm. “You made it move on its own.”

“Your skin moved on its own?” Yelis asked. “When? How?”

“After Iakedrom removed a piece of it from my wound,” Ekivia said. “He left the room, and when he came back his prosthetic had those black marks. My skin made them. I saw it crawl up his arm by itself. You made it do that.”

“Not that I know of,” Yelis said. “I’m still way earlier on in my research. If what you say is true then someone beat me to an incredible discovery, which is a little disappointing.”

Yelis’ eyes were tinged with sorrow-sight as she spoke. It was a feeling Ekivia was too familiar with. “I... am sorry. I know what that feels like. I’ve had a couple ideas pulled out from under me before. Nothing this big, but I can imagine.”

“Thanks,” Yelis said. “So how did they find out you were doing something they didn’t like?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Ekivia said. “I called a friend of mine to help me out, and the day he arrived to start the work Iakedrom arrived too.”

“So your friend turned you in?” Yelis said.

“No,” Ekivia said immediately. “He wouldn’t. I don’t know how…”

Ekivia trailed off as the news bird’s announcement caught her ears again and she looked toward the sound. Something disturbing occurred to her.

“What?” Yelis said, following her gaze and then looking back at her, confused.

“How much do you know about news birds and calling birds?” Ekivia asked.

“Not nearly as much as you I’m sure,” Yelis said with a smile. “I didn’t invent one of them.”

“They work on the same principles,” Ekivia said. “When I was just getting started in genetic engineering I helped a little with the invention of the news birds, and then built on that with the calling birds. But the core of how they work is the same. Technically the calling birds are just news birds that can both transmit and receive, and that only do so from one bird to another instead of one to many.”

“Alright,” Yelis said, thoughtful. “So…”

“So someone must have listened in on my conversation with Nevets,” Ekivia said, eyes paling a little at the thought. “They must have some secondary receiving bird that relayed my conversation with Nevets.”

“Is that possible?” Yelis asked.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“I think so,” Ekivia said. “And if I had to guess who it was I would say Nailil or some other priest was the one who listened in.”

Yelis eyes widened. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I never had a calling bird. Or anyone to call.”

“Yeah,” Ekivia said, thoughtfully. This was a huge breach of trust between Drol Maharba, his priests, and the citizens. Ekivia wondered if Iakedrom knew about this or not, but from her experience with him, she didn’t think he’d like it.

“Well, when we get out of this maybe I’ll get a calling bird so we can chat,” Yelis said.

“I think I might like that,” Ekivia said. “If we get out of this.”

“Oh we will,” Yelis said, then she smiled. “You know, when I recognized you in the officer’s house I hoped we could maybe be friends. Both of us students of life in its many forms, both of us prisoners of the same na. You seem like a really decent diordna.”

“Thanks,” Ekivia said awkwardly. “You seem pretty decent yourself.”

Yelis smiled. “How about this, when I escape I promise I’ll come back to get you.”

“I appreciate it,” Ekivia said, laughing. “But I’m not sure how you’re going to get down from here alive, let alone without being caught by Iakedrom or the Verds.”

“The Verds won’t be a problem,” Yelis said. “As I said earlier, they aren’t interested in this building.”

“Right. I forgot.” This nawo was friendly, but maybe not quite sane.

A distant explosion reminded Ekivia she was supposed to be on watch. The army below seemed to have increased its pace, moving quickly to collect in buildings a few blocks further along, completely ignoring this building and the others around it. A second explosion rumbled across the city from beyond the Verd army.

“Looks like the fighting is starting for real now,” Yelis said, and Ekivia nodded. Apparently, this strange nawo was right. They might just be ignored. Maybe she wasn’t so crazy after all?

Yelis stood, and as she did Ekivia realized why she was so familiar. She looked a lot like Ekivia herself.

**********

“Something’s bothering you,” Fosia said as Iakedrom approached her.

It wasn’t a question, and Iakedorm was comforted to know the beginning of this conversation wouldn’t be awkward because she knew him well enough to read his mood.

Iakedrom looked up at his partner and nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, what is it then?” She asked without looking away from the hall.

“It’s not just one thing,” Iakedrom said, keeping his voice low so the prisoners wouldn’t hear.

“Start with just one,” Fosia said. “That’s usually best. We can deal with the others later.”

Iakedrom smiled. “Alright. It looks like Ekvia is a traitor. After all these years I thought I knew her well. I liked her. She seemed like a good diordna. But in the last few days, I’ve seen a side of her that’s so unlike my previous experience I don’t know how to process it.”

“It is a lot to take in,” Fosia said. “I was starting to like her too, though I haven’t spent as much time with her as you have. We don’t have all the answers yet though, so maybe we’ll learn something that will reconcile the two images of her that we’ve seen.”

“I hope so,” Iakedrom said. “Because I’d hate to be completely wrong about her.”

“Me too,” Fosia said. “What’s the other thing?”

Iakedrom sighed. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful or—“

“Don’t hedge,” Fosia said, her tone telling him she was rolling her eyes. “Just get on with it.”

“I think the Drol knew the attack was coming,” Iakedrom said. “And that’s why Nailil was in such a hurry.”

Fosia nodded slowly. “I think you might be right.”

“So if the Drol knew there would be an attack why didn’t he do something to stop it?” Iakedrom asked. “Why not warn the city, or prepare the officers, or prepare a counterattack? Why let so many die that could be saved by early warning?”

“He’s Dytie’s Chosen,” Fosia said. “I’m sure he has his reasons.”

Iakedrom knew her well enough to know she wasn’t convinced.

“I’ve been trying to tell myself the same thing,” Iakedrom said. “But then I remember the last thing Nailil said, that they were early. She had to mean the army.”

Fosia nodded. “So they knew about the attack, but they were wrong about the timing.”

“Yeah,” Iakedrom said. “But to get here the army had to travel in Drolite territory for almost a week without being seen. To go unseen for so long they would need help.”

“What about Ekivia?” Fosia said. “Mada was Redaeli. She could have been passing information through him to the army.”

“I think she was,” Iakedrom said. “But this is bigger than just her. She would know the region, but not the military details. The diordna helping them would have to be powerful enough that their orders would be followed all across this region so that they could clear a path for this army. So why would the Drol help an enemy force murder so many of his own citizens?”

Fosia shot him a glance. “You shouldn’t say that kind of thing about Drol Maharba.”

“Does it bother you more that I said it,” Iakedrom asked. “Or that our leader might be helping our enemies?”

“I...” Fosia began. “I don’t know yet.”

“I trust you to keep this between us for now,” Iakedrom said. “You know I’m loyal. I just see puzzles everywhere.”

“I know,” Fosia said. “I’ll keep it between us.”

“Thank you. I honestly hope to find a reason to dismiss all this...”

An explosion rumbled like thunder from several streets over, drawing Iakedrom’s eyes to the balcony. Ekivia sat at one edge, looking down at the street below.

Esile stood staring directly at Iakedrom, tied hands held up to her brow, saluting him with a stone knife. Iakedrom felt at his belt. The knife loop was empty.

“Thanks, Iak,” Esile said with a grin.

Then she leaped off the balcony.

Iakedrom drew his cnido, but Yelis vanished beneath the edge of the balcony before he could fire a single bonellet. The rope tightened and Iakedrom dashed forward.

Ekivia cried out in shock as Yelis plummeted, the rope yanking her back toward the table. She tumbled across the floor, bouncing until she hit the table leg where Iakedrom had looped their ropes. The speed of her tumble whipped her around the leg, barely slowing her motion, and she was pulled back toward the balcony.

Leaping over the table Iakedrom dove toward Ekivia, grabbing her around the waist with both arms only to be dragged out the balcony door with her.

Suddenly the rope slackened, and rather than following Yelis over the edge, the two of them slammed into the vine railing, cracking it slightly with the force of their momentum.

Releasing Ekivia, Iakedrom stumbled to his feet and looked over the edge. The severed end of Yelis’ rope dangled just above the balcony two floors down.

“Should I go after her?” Fosia asked from the door.

Iakedrom slammed his fist against the railing. “No. Better one in the hand than two on the wind. It’s too risky with the verds here, and I think the Drol’s priorities are clear. Ekivia take precedence. We’ll stay hidden until tonight, then we sneak past the enemy line.”

**********

Iakedrom’s voice floated to Ekivia from the other room where he spoke with someone via calling bird. Night was falling, and the bioluminescent vines and leaves on the outside of buildings began glowing as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Her mind drifted to thoughts of Mada and Nevets. The Redaeli soldier that had painted her head in the officer’s house, the one that Iakedrom had killed, told her that they were safe. That the soldier even knew their names meant they hadn’t just been mowed down by the approaching army, she could take comfort in that much at least. But she still didn’t know what had happened to them or if she would ever be reunited with them.

Ekivia shook her head, trying not to think about that. Her thoughts had drifted toward images of Nevets and Mada more than once today but she refused to let them take hold of her. She would not give up on them. She would hold onto hope that she would see them again.

She needed to distract herself.

"What exactly is your relationship?" She asked Fosia, tasting the awkwardness of the question as she asked it.

"I'm Iakedrom's partner," Fosia said.

The agent didn’t offer anything more, forcing Ekivia to keep the conversation going with another question. "How long have you been working with him?"

"Close to 10 years," She said.

"Do you like him?" All these questions left Ekivia feeling like she was interrogating Fosia, which was ironic.

Fosia eyed her.

"I mean as a partner," Ekivia clarified.

"I knew what you meant," Fosia said. "He's smart and very few could experience what he has and still be good afterward. There's no one I respect more."

The compliment surprised Ekivia, though only a little. Her own experience with Iakedrom these last few days had been decidedly negative, but to hear him praised reminded her of her experiences with him in the last ten years. They’d very nearly been friends until this whole fiasco.

“When he isn’t torturing people you mean?” Ekivia asked, not bothering to disguise the vitriol in her voice.

“No,” Fosia said. “Even then. It wasn’t his choice to do that to you. He tried to convince Nailil to let him do it a better way, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“I don’t remember seeing any disgust in his eyes when he was doing it?”

“You also didn’t see him vomit as soon as he left the room,” Fosia said, glaring at Ekivia. “He does what he thinks is right. He’s not perfect, but he is good. Maybe take a moment to consider what would have happened if Nailil had continued to torture you, then judge Iakedrom.”

As uncomfortable as it made Ekivia, she had to admit that things would have been worse under Nailil’s hand. They were both a little heated, but Ekivia didn’t want to let the conversation die just yet, she still needed the distraction, so she changed the topic.

"How did he lose his arm?"

Again Fosia just stared at Ekivia, eyes still a little red, obviously uncertain if she wanted to continue their conversation.

"It was blown off," Iakedrom said from the doorway. Ekivia's eyes jumped to look at the na as he joined them. "Have you been following the news about the Craftsman?"

"Yes," Ekivia said, and she shivered. “The killer who made household items of victims.”

Iakedrom nodded. "I was assigned to catch the Craftsman some time ago. We got close to one time, or we thought we did, but she rigged a corpse to explode. My last partner was killed by the explosion. I saw what was happening soon enough to almost reach safety but I was partially exposed. A burning piece of shrapnel embedded in my arm and I had to tie it off with my belt to keep the flames from reaching my chest through my veins. Then I ducked behind a door, closed it on my arm, and waited for the explosion."

Ekivia stared at the na, eyes slowly growing paler with each detail. She’d expected something more mundane like… well anything else.

“The Crafstman is a nawo?” Ekivia asked, speaking the only question she could think of.

“Yes,” Iakedrom said, scratching at the bandages covering his prosthetic. “We caught her just before we discovered your elicit activities, and the fact that she’s a woman is the least insane part. But before I tell you more I need an answer to a question.”

It was not a request, and Ekivia's mind raced to guess the question. She assumed it would have to do with Mada, or maybe the marks on Iakedrom's arm. He’d decided to continue his interrogation.

"What is the longest a diordna can live?"

Her mind froze. The answers she'd been preparing to give fled her and she struggled to find words to answer the question while simultaneously trying to determine why he asked so she didn’t give too much away.

"Well?" Iakedrom prompted.

“I think the oldest I know of was about 180,” Ekivia said. “Aside from the Drol of course.”

“I didn’t ask about the oldest diordna you know of,” Iakedrom said. “I asked you how long you believe a diordna can live.”

Ekivia met his eyes, still unable to see where these questions might be going.

"I believe Dytie made us infinitely more complex than we may ever know," She said. "Esile Thaed showed us that, even if some of her research would be considered unethical today. I do think that eventually maybe we’ll live a lot longer, but for now, between 150 and 200 years is the best that can be expected. What does any of this have to do with your arm?"

“I’m getting to that,” Iakedrom said. “I just got off a call with another machinologist. I’ve contacted several, both here in the city and in others, and they all agreed on one strange fact.”

“Dytie,” Fosia cursed. “That can’t be right can it?”

Iakedrom nodded. “They all agreed that they have never actually seen a diordna die of anything other than being killed by an accident, themselves, or another diordna. The only records of diordna dying of old age are from generations ago.”

“That can’t be right,” Ekivia said, glancing between the other two. “There has to be…”

Iakedrom shook his head. “There isn’t any record in the last four generations, even in the capitol. I wonder if even those records are true, but that’s a topic for another day. Back to what this has to do with me losing my arm. The Craftsman claimed to be Esile.”

“That’s not…” Ekivia trailed off. If what Iakedrom said was true then maybe it was possible. Then something more disturbing occurred to her.

“After what I’ve learned I’m inclined to believe her,” Iakedrom said.

Ekivia’s mind raced as she thought about what that would mean. If Esile was still alive, six generations after she was supposed to have died, then the records of death from old age might be fake, and that would mean someone with a lot of power didn’t want diordna to know how long they could live. Iakedrom must have come to the same conclusions. The implications on a grand scale were disturbing, but the smaller scale implication was actually amusing to Ekivia.

“If that’s true,” Ekivia said, allowing herself a small smile. “Then the nawo who took your arm is also the one who replaced it.”

Iakedrom smiled back. “That is correct. Ironic, don’t you think? Not only did she change the world, but she changed my life personally, first by killing my partner and taking my arm, and then by her research restoring my arm. I find myself stuck between gratitude and anger.”

Ekivia just stared at him. This couldn’t all be true, could it? It seemed so outlandish, she wanted to dismiss it. But then she saw the look on Fosia’s face, and she knew this wasn’t a joke.

“I was just talking to the Esile and I didn’t even know it,” Ekivia said, in awe. Then her eyes paled and she waved out the window. “She was the Craftsman.”

Iakedrom nodded. “As unethical in her methods as ever. So, as her defendant, if you could advance our society in a similar way to Esile, how would you do it? How far would you go if you were on the trail to something as big?”

Ekivia paused before answering, still trying to process everything. She couldn’t reconcile the nawo she’d just met with the killer she’d read about, and on top of that, this felt to her like the question he was building to. It was all starting to overwhelm her, but she couldn’t allow it. She just needed a minute to figure things out.

He'd led her here for a reason that she couldn’t begin to guess, not while she was so off balance from what she’d just learned. She’d created Mada to advance society, to make diordna safer by replacing soldiers with something more disposable. But he’d become irreplaceable, and her goals had changed with her heart. If she had the chance she wanted to change the hearts of every diordna in the same way. Maybe then they could end the wars and just live.

She closed her eyes and sighed. She waited in silence for a moment, listening to the soft roaring of flames several streets away before replying.

“If I could advance diordna kind in any direction it would be toward understanding each other on a new level, and toward an end to hurting each other to try and prove that we understand the world better than those around us.”

"And how would you do that?" Iakedrom asked.

"I’m an engineer,” Ekivia said. “I would do the only thing I know how. I would create something to make diordna-kind question their relative positions and do everything in my power to keep them from denying the truth behind those questions. The truth that we are not so superior to each other as we think."

Iakedrom opened his mouth, but Ekivia cut him off before he spoke. "If we get out of this alive I’ll tell you how I’ve already begun to do that."

“I will hold you to that,” Iakedrom said, meeting her eyes. "Now let’s get to a safer part of the city."