Chapter 4: Esile

"Research Log, Year 17, Month 1, Day 9 (Day 5,828)

“I have been dreading this day since Mada was born. I told myself I’d reach out to have his intelligence tested when I was ready but ready still hasn’t come. But it needs to be done.

“I've decided to bring in Nevets Sirrah for several reasons, the most important being that I trust him. He came in for some early tests of Mada’s siblings so he’ll know how to approach this. Besides that his work on the physical and mental capacity of animals is unparalleled. He’s well known by geneticists and lay diordna alike. He’ll add credibility to my work and Mada’s status as an individual and not a tool. Knowing that I would likely go to him for this I’ve made efforts to maintain a friendship with Nevets though time and the distance to the city often make it hard to make plans together. He is a good friend to me, and I hope I have been a good friend to him. Without his help, I don’t know how we can carve a place for Mada to live in this world.

“From here on the research will be his. I have done all I can. And I am far too close with Mada to look at him objectively.”

Nevet’s heart pounded faster than the pursuer’s feet against the forest floor, the world tinted so white with his fear that it nearly blinded him, and had to keep blinking hard to try and clear his vision. This was insane. When he’d accepted Ekivia’s invitation to visit he never would have predicted that he would be stealing a pursuer and chasing down an officer of the law to protect a project started nearly twenty years ago. Nevets understood that if Mada was taken he’d be confiscated at least and destroyed at worst. He was made by an unlicensed engineer in clear violation of the law. Nevets could maybe talk around that fact and save them, but he wouldn’t get that chance if Mada was destroyed and he was discredited for breaking the law. Although, stealing a pursuer was also breaking the law. He didn’t know what to do.

But Ekivia was his friend, and her plea kept ringing in his ears. Please. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to him. This wasn’t just about a project. This wasn’t just Ekivia’s last creation, not just her livelihood. This was her life. Her family. And he was determined to do what he could to help her keep it intact.

She’d said it toward Iakedrom, but Nevets had felt it was truly meant for him. And he’d made a promise that they were in this together. Though he didn’t know how yet, he’d buy time for one of them to come up with a plan that would protect them all. If that was even possible.

For now, that meant crashing through the forest on one of the fastest mounts available in Drolian territory. He drove the mount as fast as he felt he could without driving it headlong into a tree. He prayed to Dytie that he was headed in the right direction, as he couldn’t see or hear the officer who’d set out after Mada first. He thought he was going the right way, but it was hard to be sure, and they could have turned at any point. For all he knew, Mada was already taken captive, back at Ekivia’s house, and this had all been in vain.

As he thought that he heard the crack of a cnido to the right, and pulled the reigns, turning his sleek black beast toward the sound. It only took a moment of weaving through the trees at dangerous speeds before he spotted the other pursuer. Its officer stood on the ground in front of it, cnido drawn and held forward, Mada kneeling in the dirt with his head bowed, body heaving with breaths so heavy Nevets could see the motion from fifty meters away. It didn’t look like the AI had been shot though.

The officer was approaching Mada slowly, cautiously, and Nevets whispered a prayer of gratitude to Dytie. The officer glanced toward Nevets as he approached at full speed, then turned back to Mada, obviously mistaking him for backup. She pulled a rope from her hip and commanded Mada to lie down and put his hands behind his back. Nevets was only a few bounds of the pursuer away. He aimed the pursuer toward the other mount and gave a single verbal command in its ear.

“Chikt.”

The short sound was not one known by most diordna, but Nevets had worked with these beasts before and helped train the sound into their minds. They couldn’t use real words so anyone stealing the creature wouldn’t know how to use it to its full dangerous potential. This particular command had another safety feature. It would only be obeyed from the rider on the mount’s back.

A command to attack.

Nevets’s pursuer slowed for a brief moment as it reached its target and Nevets leaped off, tackling the officer as his mount sunk its teeth into the other pursuer. There was a loud crunch as Nevets and the officer crashed to the ground, and the wind left his body in a burst. He rolled off the nawo and tried to stand on shaky legs. Oil oozed from several cuts on Nevets’s right arm, though they weren’t bad. Behind him the growls of the pursuers made the air rumble, and he felt the vibrations in the ground when they thudded against the ground.

The officer stood, eyes pink with angry shock. Her uniform was torn in several places, with oily oozing trails wetting it around the tears. In their fall she’d landed on the cnido, now laying forgotten and broken on the ground, and its cnidoblasts had all triggered with their explosive force, sending them into the dirt and tearing across her torso. As soon as she got to her feet one of her legs buckled. It appeared that one of the bonelettes had shot straight into her thigh.

She reached for her baton, rising despite the obvious pain in her leg, blackness mixing with the red and white in her eyes. She stepped forward and Nevets looked around desperately for a weapon, a branch, or anything to defend himself with, but before he could the officer was on him. He raised his arms, blocking the baton and protecting his head with his forearms. Almost as soon as the baton made contact with his arms she swung again, this time at his side, and he thought he felt one of his ribs crack.

Desperate to end the assault, Nevets dove forward, tackling the officer again. They hit the ground hard, and he scrabbled desperately at her wrist, trying to pin it down along with the baton. He’d barely managed to restrain the weapon, feeling a momentary sense of relief and victory join his terror. He pressed her wrist against the dirt with one hand, trying to pry the weapon away from her with the other as she wriggled beneath him.

The officer punched him in the side of the head, knocking him off her. In mere moments she was on him, pinning him far more expertly than he had her, somehow restraining his legs with hers while also pinning his upper body with her hands. No matter how he struggled he couldn’t free himself. It had been too long since he’d taken hand-to-hand training seriously, and he was regretting that for the first time. He had failed Ekivia and himself, though he didn’t know how he could have done more.

Just as he was giving up a rope loop around the officer’s neck from behind, yanking the nawo back and off Nevets. The officer dropped her baton in her surprise, reaching with both hands to grab the rope and try to pull it around her chin unsuccessfully.

Mada pressed one hand to the back of the nawo’s neck and pulled on the two ends of the rope with the other. The officer thrashed, twisting and grasping the air around her head, but was unable to get ahold of Mada. The AI had control of the fight for now, but Nevets didn’t know how long that would last. He needed to help.

Nevets grabbed the baton from the dirt and scrambled to his feet, pulled the weapon to the side, and just before he swung the officer met his eyes. Pale fear overwhelmed the other emotions in them, fear that reflected Nevets’s own.

He swung the baton, striking the nawo on the side of the head. The weapon bounced off her hard metal skull, breaking the skin near the temple and sending a few drops of oil flying. She teeter for a moment, then collapsed, and Mada let the rope go, allowing her to slump onto her side in the torn-up dirt.

Behind Nevets the pursuers continued to fight, grunting and roaring at one another, though with much less energy than when they started. Nevets could sympathize with that.

He turned to the creatures and spoke another command, one that could be given by anyone if they knew the right word, though that was a closely guarded secret as well.

“Mbek.”

The pursuers stopped fighting and stepped away from each other, settling down on the overturned dirt. Panting loudly, they began licking their wounds, and Nevets turned back to Mada and the unconscious officer.

“Sorry I didn’t jump in and help sooner,” Mada said, not meeting Nevets’s eyes.

Nevets shook his head. “No need to apologize. You did fine.”

Mada nodded but didn’t seem to agree. The only feature Nevets could see of the AI was Mada’s eyes, pink irises, and a few strands of white hair peeking between his mask and hat. And he was tall, maybe even a little taller than Ekivia herself. She hadn’t mentioned any physical details earlier, though they hadn’t had much of a chance to discuss these kinds of details. And despite the lack of changing pigment in Mada’s eyes or the mask disguising his expression Nevets could see the tension in Mada’s posture and in the way he kept glancing around, from the pursuers to the baton in Nevets’s hand to the officer on the ground.

As what they’d just done slowly began to dawn on Nevets he became dizzy, his eyes yellowing with disgust sight. His hands and chest were covered in a combination of his own oil and that of the officer, and trying to rub the oil from his palms didn’t much help. There was even a little blood from the destroyed cnido. He didn’t know enough to say whether or not the officer would be ok with that wound in her leg and the cuts across her body from the bonelettes or if she’d lose too much oil, but he thought she probably would survive. He could see that she was breathing at least, so that was good.

If he hadn’t been committed to this endeavor before, he was now whether he liked it or not.

“Why don’t you tie her up,” Nevets said, legs shaking as he lowered himself to sit against a tree. “Just in case she wakes up.”

Mada nodded, hurrying to do as he was told.

Nevets brought his knees up by his chest and leaned his head against them. This was one of the worst ways their first meeting could have gone. The chaos and the investigator… how had Iakedrom known to drop in on this exact day?

As his head started to calm down, Nevets began prodding at his body, feeling the many bruises and checking his reins to see if any were broken. He was no machinologist, but he thought he might be able to tell if something was broken. He was wrong of course, all he could tell was that it hurt. Diordna bruising was different from animal bruising, the skin hardening from the pressure of the impact that caused the bruise in the first place. Luckily Nevets didn’t have any bruises on his joints. Those could be a huge pain, slowing or even stopping joint movement for days on end.

Mada finished tying the officer’s hands and feet together, then turned toward Nevets. “Where’s Ekivia?”

“She distracted them so I could get to you,” Nevets said.

“So…what do we do now?” Mada asked, voice shaking slightly. “We have to find a way to help her.”

“Right now I think the best way to help her is to do the work I came here to do,” Nevets said, trying to formulate a plan even as he spoke. “She’s arrested for engineering without a license, though they don’t realize it yet. When they do realize it we want to be sure we’re ready with a response.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Mada said. “Prove I’m not property and you prove she didn’t break the law. If I’m a diordna then all she did was have a child through unconventional means. And even if they did find her guilty, what she made, if presented right, could appear to be more important than the law, and so forgivable.”

“Exactly,” Nevets said, more surprise in his voice than he wanted. He hoped Mada didn’t catch it. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. We’ll need to find a safe place first though. Can’t do the work if we’re in prison.”

“Or if I’m destroyed,” Mada said in a whisper, head down. Then he looked up at Nevets. “I know a place we can hide for now.”

“Alright,” Nevets said. “I’m Nevets by the way.”

“I know,” Mada said.

Nevets smiled. “I figure as much. I just thought we should formally introduce ourselves since we didn’t get the chance earlier.”

“Ok,” Mada said. “Then I’m Mada I guess.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nevets said, finally feeling steady enough to stand. “Let’s get to this hiding place of yours.”

**********

Considering all that had happened, Iakedrom felt lucky to have returned to the city before nightfall. They were approaching summer though, so daylight was longer lately. He rode his pursuer with Ekivia tied to the saddle behind him, and his officers rode around them, the wounded Ailyaj on the other unwounded mount, while the others rode the two bleeding animals. That had slowed them down, but not too badly. The creatures were well designed and would work until they died if you pushed them hard enough. Iakedrom thought they’d survive though.

Before leaving he’d called for a search team to hunt for Nevets and the one called Mada, and to retrieve anything that might be relevant evidence from Ekivia’s house. They’d crossed paths with the group of fifteen officers, five of them riding canine mounts used in tracking, called simply trackers. Iakedrom always thought the creatures looked goofy, white with brown spots, long drooping ears, and legs too short for their bodies, but they were extremely good at their job and could carry up to four riders on their long saddle. They would find the fugitives soon enough, and until then Iakedrom had answers to find.

The city of Rebmevon was one of the oldest and largest in Drolian territory. It wasn’t always so large, but in the last generation or so it had expanded following the invention of grown buildings and had quite a variety of structures, some of the old brick or stone style, others of the newer tree, and still others the bamboo, all pressing up against each other and competing for space. There were constant building projects going on, tearing down old structures and growing larger new ones to accommodate the increasing population. But right down the center of the city, there was a large street entirely in the old style that wound from the south end all the way north and housed the garrison stationed here.

It was fairly near a heavily contested region called the Mahkram region to the northeast, and so had been destroyed more than once. But it was also the best place to house a large military force that could be deployed quickly to push back an attack on Mahkram. It was a cruel irony that one of the most fertile farming territories for metal pods of both coprum and ferrum was right near the border between the Drolian and Redaeli territories. Still, Rebmevon was far enough back that it was never the first strike in an assault, so it could grow, and most felt safe living here. The garrison also helped with that feeling of safety, currently just under 10,000, though three-quarters of them were out of the city on patrol right now. Add to that a substantial police force and the city was sure to keep growing.

If they’d had to cross the entire city to reach his officer’s house it would have been dark when they arrived, so Iakedrom felt lucky that their headquarters was on the southeast side of the city. He rode his mount to the front of the building, one of the old two-story brick ones, and let Ekivia down. As the two of them entered the building the other officers in his small team took the wounded mounts to the stables out back, and Ailyuj took herself to a hospital. Most of her wounds looked to be surface wounds, so she’d probably be ok.

“Iak?” Fosia said as he entered the room.

The officer’s house was not where they lived, but where they worked. The main room was an open space with modern grown desks and chairs where investigators could sit and work. The doors were all grown as well, integrated into the brick structure by vines that grew between them so they supported each other. These same support vines would glow with bioluminescence at night, providing a cleaner source of light than the old torches. The brick still bore blackened scars from those. Iakedrom closed the entry door and heard the hinge vines tighten with a rough, almost grinding, sound.

The main room was about fifteen meters wide by twenty long, with rooms on both sides. The ones along the right wall were used for meetings of investigators or to get some quiet while they worked, and their commander used the one at the very back for an office. The rooms on the left were all interrogation rooms or temporary holding for suspects. Just to the right of the entrance was the stairway, which led up to the prison floor, though there was some storage space up there as well for evidence or confiscated items. The supplies for the officers were kept out back in the stables with the mounts.

“Things got interesting,” Iakedrom said to Fosia.

“And it looks like not in a sexy way,” Fosia said. “That’s a shame.”

Iakedrom gave her a flat stare. “How about you? Did you get your nap in?”

“Not yet. Been too busy.” Fosia sighed and glanced at Ekivia. “One of our other guests refuses to answer questions until they can see you personally. They say they want a chance to look at your arm. I’d appreciate if you could pop in real fast so things can get rolling.”

“Alright,” Iakedrom said. “Let me get Ekivia settled and I’ll be right over.”

Fosia nodded, returning to her desk to wait while Iakedrom went to one of the interrogation rooms. The main structure of the rooms was brick, but in recent years they’d put new doors on, grown from vines and using hinges and triggers like the ones in Ekivia’s home. This not only allowed for greater privacy if they felt they needed it, but also made it possible to seal the entrance more easily by including a seal trigger on the outside only that would stimulate vines to grasp the walls all around the door and hold it in place.

Iakedrom sat Ekivia down on a bush-grown chair in front of a bush-grown table. “I trust I won’t need to bring in a constrictor for you?” He asked the nawo.

“I haven’t don’t anything wrong,” Ekivia said.

“If you hadn’t done anything wrong you wouldn’t be hiding anything,” Iakedrom said. “Diordna only hide things that they think others would think were wrong. I’m not your enemy. I thought we might have been developing a friendship after all this time. I suppose I was wrong about that.”

“Not entirely,” Ekivia said quietly.

“Well that’s good to hear,” Iakedrom said. “Though I’d like to see that, not just hear it. I’m not sure I know who you really are, so when I get back I want to hear an explanation. I honestly hope that explanation matches the good diordna I’ve come to know. Just think about that for a little.”

He stepped through the doorway and closed the door, flicking both the regular trigger branch to tighten the hinges in place and the seal trigger to lock the door shut. Thick vines uncurled from around the edges of the door, reaching outward to grip the brick frame. He paused a moment outside the door, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his palms, the squishy flesh of his prosthetic doing little to alleviate the pressure he was starting to feel behind his eyes. Today had been an emotional day, it was hard to keep it all in.

He sighed, then crossed the room to where Fosia sat, scratching at his itchy prosthetic absently.

"You really shouldn't do that," Fosia said, gesturing toward his prosthetic. "It may heal fast, but you’ll leave scars, and the healing takes energy. It can wear them out faster.”

"The damn thing itches," Iakedrom said. "What do you expect me to do?"

Fosia reached into one of the shelves at the side of her desk where she kept her personal items and presented a leather pouch. “I needed a break so I picked this up for you. It’s supposed to help with the itching.”

She tossed it to Iakedrom and he caught it with the prosthetic hand, still surprised at how close to natural that felt sometimes. He opened the pouch and dipped his metal fingers into it, removing a small blob of the creamy yellow substance and applying it to the prosthetic.

“Better?” Fosia asked.

“A little,” Iakedrom said. “Thank you. Learn anything we didn’t already know from the Craftsman while I was away?”

Fosia sighed and glared at her desk. “No. But I haven’t been in there for a while. Like I said, I needed a break. I’ve been trying to do a little work on another case to clear my head.”

“I can imagine,” Iakedrom said. “I’m assuming our ‘Esile’ is the one that wanted to see my prosthetic then? Which room is she in?”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Six,” Fosia said.

“You haven’t learned her real name yet?” Iakedrom asked.

“No,” Fosia said. “Though I have compared her to Esile’s portraits from before she died, and they do look more than similar. If the portraits weren’t so old I’d say they were the same person.”

“Do you know if it’s possible she survived?”

“I checked with a machinologist, and she didn’t think so,” Fosia said. “Though she also admitted that most diordna die at war, so she didn’t have many records of very old diordna.”

“Alright,” Iakedrom said, sighing. “Wish me luck in there.”

“Good luck in there,” Fosia said with a crooked smile. “You’re going to need it.”

Iakedrom grimaced and rubbed his forehead. A little orange oxidized skin flaked off as he did so. He needed a chance to scrub off. Maybe in a few hours, he’d take some time to clean up and get some sleep. But for now, he didn’t have time.

He walked across the room, passing two desks with other investigators at them on the way to room six. He paused outside the door, then touched the triggers and pushed it open. Their ”Esile” was average height and far above average strength. Her eyes were clear of color, clear of emotion. The real Esile was the greatest mind in their nation, possibly the world. Her work led to the creation of all nonanimal organics, as they called them. Things like his prosthetic and the cnido he wore on his belt. She theorized it was possible long before anyone else thought so, and time after time her theories proved right.

The only reason she wasn’t laughed into oblivion in her time was that she contributed in several other ways as well, advancing diordna medicine and their understanding of the inner workings of their bodies. She posited that animal bodies were created by Dytie as a model, then the robot bodies were made as a final perfection of that form. Muscles, the apertures of the eye, the joints, and how they fit together. There wasn’t anything quite like diordna kind among animals, but there were many animals that seemed to have parts of diordna in them. She figured that if they were modeled after animals in some way then perhaps the two could interact. After all, the impulses that drove an animal’s body weren’t that different from the ones that drove a diordna body. She was supposed to have died generations ago at war, like all of them would eventually.

She was perhaps the most brilliant mind ever born to diordna kind. And if this Esile was that Esile, then she was beyond insane.

Even though her feet and hands were bound to the table by constrictors, strong snakes that would tighten their grip if she resisted them, Iakedrom had the door sealed by another officer as he entered. He wasn’t going to risk anything when it came to this nawo.

She smiled as he approached her. “Iakedrom, I’m glad you could visit.”

“I…can’t say the same,” Iakedrom said.

She laughed. “That’s ok, I understand. I’m glad all the same.”

A small patch of oil under her palm caught Iakedrom’s eye. “Did something happen to your hand?”

“Oh, this,” She said, lifting her hand slightly, though not giving Iakedrom a good view of the wound. “I hurt myself a little moving around in these restraints. Nothing for you to worry about, though I appreciate the concern.”

“I’m not surprised,” Iakedrom said. “Now, you’ve gotten to see me and my arm and you know what we want. This cooperation can’t be one way, I think you know that.”

“Yes, I understand that,” Esile said, taking on a serious expression and nodding. “You want names. Starting with my real one, which I promise I have given you. But I was wondering one thing before I start giving them to you.”

“That’s not how this works,” Iakedrom said.

“If it wasn’t you wouldn’t be here,” She replied quickly, then rushed on. “But it’s just a small thing. I just wasn’t to feel the prosthetic. Just a quick touch and that’s all.”

Iakedrom met her eyes, staring into them, looking for a reason behind her request. He could think of none. The nawo was unstable, that was reason enough. He thought a moment, glancing at the constrictor around her wrists. With one of those weaving around her wrists and through holes in the table to keep her in place, she wouldn’t be able to attempt an attack, so he stepped forward hesitantly and reached out.

She lifted her hand slightly, but he pulled away just before he got close.

“This isn’t a game, Esile,” Iakedrom said. “There will be no more requests from you after this.”

“Of course not,” Esile said. She sounded so kind, reassuring, gentle when she spoke. She was anything but.

Iakedrom nodded, then placed his prosthetic hand against hers. He felt faintly the smearing of oil from her wounded palm, why Fosia hadn’t had it bandaged yet was beyond him. He supposed—

Esile stabbed something into his prosthetic hand, and the pain was sharp enough that even the weaker signals from the arm were enough to make him yank his hand back instinctively. He stared momentarily at his palm at what she’d used as a weapon. It appeared to be a piece of her skin, though it was hard and formed into a point. He looked at her oily palm and what she’d done clicked. She’d bitten off some of her own skin, then hardened it by crushing it with her teeth and shaping it into a small barb. His eyes filled with a deep orange angry disgust as he stepped to the door and called to be let out.

“Thank you,” She said, visibly relaxing. “Did you want to take the names or was the other one going to do that?”

Iakedrom glared at her as the door opened, then stepped out of the room. He held the hand up to keep the blood from dripping on the floor while he looked for a bandage kit.

“What happened?” Fosia asked, eyes white with shock as she handed him a cloth.

“I think she chewed off some skin from her palm, hardened it with her teeth, and stabbed me with it.”

Fosia’s eyes turned to yellow disgust sight. “That’s pretty bad. How’d she get so close?”

“She didn’t,” Iaekdrom said, glaring. “I got too close to her, let her touch my prosthetic. I didn’t think she could do anything, restricted as she is. Shoulda known better with her.”

“Yeah,” Fosia said. “You shoulda. At least it wasn’t the other hand though, right?

“This better get us some answers,” Iakedrom said, gritting his teeth. His hand was suddenly itchy, far itchier than he’d ever felt before, bordering on pain. “Can you grab me that cream from earlier? My hand is so itchy I can barely stand it.”

“Shouldn’t we get Esile’s skin out of it first?” Fosia said, concerned.

“I’ll get it,” Iakedrom said. “You get the cream.”

Fosia nodded and ran back to his desk. The itching had moved to his wrist now, and he reached over to pull the barb from his palm.

But it wasn’t in his palm anymore, it was on his wrist, a trail of fluid shapes etched in what looked to be black ink from the wound down along behind it. The piece of skin was vibrating quickly and seemed to be crawling across the flesh of the prosthetic, continuing to leave a trail of ink behind it.

Iakedrom yelped, grabbing the animated skin and tearing it from his prosthetic. It resisted only slightly, leaving a small welling of blood where it had been when he tugged it off, and he threw it to the ground violently.

“What was that?” Fosia asked as she returned. “I thought you were just…”

She trailed off as he showed her his arm and the marks on it. Her eyes darted from the marks to the skin on the ground.

“Don’t tell me…” She said quietly.

Iakedrom nodded. “Esile’s skin was alive.”

“This day just keeps getting worse, doesn’t it,” Fosia said.

“That’s an understatement,” Iakedrom agreed. “Call a machinologist, see if they’ve seen anything like this.”

Fosia nodded. “At least you can’t say it’s boring anymore.”

Iakedrom tried to laugh, but it came out sounding more like a grunt. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing anymore.”

“Yeah,” Fosia said. “Me neither.”

Iakedrom removed the emergency aid kit from his belt and used one of the cloth bandages to contain the blood oozing from his prosthetic hand. Every office had a small pouch like this one that they took with them when they left the officer’s house. It had a couple cloth bandages and a leather cord for wounds or to stabilize a hurt limb. He’d only had to use it a few times before, and never for his prosthetic.

“I’m going to talk to Ekivia,” Iakedrom said. “We can swap notes later tonight if we have time.”

“Alright,” Fosia said, and she returned to her desk.

Iakedrom went to the room where he’d deposited Ekivia earlier and opened the door. She was standing in the corner of the room opposite the door and turned to look at him when he entered.

He gestured to the chair at the table. “Have a seat.”

“I’d rather stand if you don’t mind,” Ekivia said. “What happened to your hand?”

Iakedrom glanced down at it. Blood was already showing a little through the cloth. “I’ve just had a rather unpleasant experience and I don’t find myself very trusting, so I’ll ask again nicely. Please sit down.”

Ekivia met his eyes and looked like she was going to defy him again, but nodded and sat down. Iakedrom stood across the table from her and met her eyes. His mind was a jumble of thoughts and he was having a hard time turning any of them into questions. He kept returning to a line of questions that were not the kind he would normally ask, though this was not a normal situation either. He was tired and confused and just wanted to get some rest, but there was one thing he wanted to know first.

“I have known you for almost twenty years,” Iakedrom said. “A long time. After all that time, I thought we’d developed some level of trust. Was I wrong to believe that? Were you pretending all this time? After what happened today I can only guess that was all a farce, though I never took you for an actress.”

Ekivia never looked away from him, and he thought he saw a little color enter her eyes but couldn’t tell which emotion it was. “You weren’t wrong. I do trust you.”

“Really,” Iakedrom said flatly. “This is a strange way to show it.”

“Just because you trust someone doesn’t mean you trust them with everything,” Ekivia said, her eyes reddening. “Besides, your job is to be suspicious of me. You expect me to believe you ever trusted me?”

The barb stung as she said it. She was right, he wasn’t supposed to trust her. He’d gotten too relaxed with her, too friendly after so long with no issues. His trips out to her house had become more and more casual recently.

That had been a mistake.

“You’re right,” Iakedrom said, eyes reddening to match the anger in Ekivia’s. As they did the entire room tinted the color, and it made her eyes appear uncolored. That was one of the effects of sharing the same emotion as someone else. The tint in your own eyes could make theirs look different. “I should not have trusted you. I won’t make the mistake again.”

As he said it he saw her expression soften a little, though in his anger he couldn’t be sure why. Emotion sight only told you so much about the thoughts of another person. He tried not to compromise his perception by getting overly emotional in a situation like this, but today had been hard.

Ekivia opened her mouth to say something, but Iakedrom cut her off. “Come with me. We’ll get started with the real questions in the morning.”

She closed her mouth and he led her out of the room by the rope that tied her hands together. They went upstairs and he put her in one of the cells up there. They were roughly half the size of the interrogation rooms, about two by three meters, with a narrow bed along one wall. When she was inside he untied her hands and closed the door.

Then he went to the next cell over and lay down on the bed there, too exhausted to find another place to sleep.

**********

After traveling for some time, somewhere around an hour Nevets guessed, Mada finally stopped, for which Nevets was grateful. His lungs heaved, trying to consume as much air as possible and his entire body shook with exhaustion from their swift escape on foot. He put his hands on his knees, head bowed for a moment, before looking up at Mada. The AI was also breathing heavily, face tense with the effort of trying to get enough air, though he didn’t seem nearly as bad off as Nevets. It clearly exercised regularly.

“We close?” Nevets asked, breathless.

Mada gestured in front of himself, though Nevets couldn’t see what he was indicating. The area looked almost like any other part of the forest, with its underbrush and wild grasses growing in patches around the trees and fallen branches. The only identifiable feature in the direction Mada indicated was that there was a large section of the ground between trees that was raised slightly, to about Nevets’s waist from the regular height of the forest floor.

“What makes this mound of dirt safer than any other part of the forest?” Nevets asked.

“I’ll show you,” Mada said, though the AI hesitated, obviously uncomfortable, before approaching the mound. It… no, he began digging in the dirt, plants, and dead branches along one side of the mount. Nevets had to keep reminding himself to use the proper pronoun out of respect for both Ekivia and Mada, even in his mind. It was harder than he thought it would be since he was so used to calling animals it no matter their sex, but he was determined to get it right quickly. He figured it would only take a day or two before calling Mada he became a more natural habit. “Ekivia built this for me to hide in when Iakedrom made his visits, just to be safe.”

He pulled away a large section of forest refuse and revealed that the underside of it all was a solid, door-like network of roots and branches. At Mada’s feet was an opening leading into the mound, and he nodded for Nevets to enter.

“This is quite far from your home,” Nevets said as he stepped down, ducking to avoid brushing his head against the dirty roots that hung around the lip of the entrance.

Once he was inside he could straighten up, and he looked around in the near darkness. The sun was nearly set, so not much light came from the entrance, but the structure had bioluminescent vines along the ceiling that were beginning to glow softly, so he got a good idea of the space. It wasn’t large, just big enough for a single-person mattress in the dirt to one side, a short bookshelf with a few books in it, a circular table that was about a meter across, and a single chair. Not extravagant, but sufficient for a single occupant to stay in for a few hours at a time. The ceiling was domed, following the shape of the mound, and held up by crisscrossing vines and a sturdy trunk made of thick braided vines in the center of the room. Even with all that the ceiling was checkered with patches of dirt and the wisp roots of small plants outside, so it wasn’t very thick. That made Nevets a little uncomfortable, worried that if someone came around they might hear them talking, but he supposed if they were quiet it probably wouldn’t be an issue. And they could peek outside occasionally to listen for searchers if they felt the need.

“Ekivia wanted to be sure that no one would stumble on it accidentally if they searched around the house,” Mada said, pulling the door back over the entrance and deepening the darkness of the room so he was just a dim silhouette to Nevets. “So we put it way out here. Iakedrom’s visits were pretty regular, always at the same time of day, so I would just leave with enough time so we’d both arrive at our destinations at the same time. And in case anyone did find themselves out this far the doorway faces away from the most likely directions they’d come.”

“Smart,” Nevets said, still trying to catch his breath. “And thorough, like always with Kiv.”

“Yeah,” Mada said, and Nevets noticed his voice didn’t come out in a rasping sigh like Nevets’s own.

An awkward silence passed between them, Mada standing uncomfortably by the door, his eyes glancing from table to bed to shelf but never toward Nevets, and Nevets uncertain if he should take the chair or just stand. He was exhausted after running as far as they could and then walking or jogging the rest of the way, and again he regretted not spending more time in exercise.

“Do you mind if I go lay down on your bed for a minute?” Nevets finally asked.

“Go right ahead,” Mada said, and Nevets shuffled over, lowering himself to the wool-stuffed mattress with a sigh.

He lay there, eyes closed, hands on his chest until his breathing slowed and he felt like he wasn’t going to die anymore. It occurred to him that they didn’t have any food, which was a shame after all the energy they’d spent getting here, and they probably wouldn’t be getting anything soon either. Maybe Nevets could sneak out to Ekivia’s cellar and bring something back? It would be dangerous since there were bound to be search parties, but they would need something soon.

“So…” Mada said, drawing Nevets attention away from their plight. He opened his eyes and turned toward it—him. He was sitting in the chair. “Where do we start? With your study of me, I mean.”

Nevets nodded turning to stare up at the ceiling. “I’d normally ask Ekivia some questions about your history and look at her notes and tests, but since I can’t do that I guess the best place to start would be with some diagnostic questions. We can get started tonight, but tomorrow we should think about food and where else we could go to escape Iakedrom.”

“Ok,” Mada said. “Will you need something to write with? I have a journal on my shelf and a stylus you could use.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I have my own,” Nevets said, pulling a small notebook and pencil from a pocket in his vest. He never went anywhere without one, since he got ideas all the time and didn’t want to lose them. This particular notebook was fairly new, with only a few pages already taken up by notes. It was about as big as his hand and had a saddle-stitched top spine instead of a side spine like a book. The stylus was only as long as his index finger and made of smooth lead.

Nevets sat up and opened his notebook to a blank page, then paused. “I… don’t have any water to wet the stylus. Would you be willing to lick the tip for me?”

Mada nodded and stepped over, taking the proffered stylus, licking the tip, and handing it back.

“Thank you,” Nevets said. “Now, let’s get started. First some basic history. According to Ekivia’s logs, you are nineteen. Did I do the math right?”

“You did,” Mada said.

“Good,” Nevets said, making a quick note. “How tall are you?”

“A hundred and seventy-seven centimeters."

Nevets nodded as he wrote it down. “And what can you tell me about the circumstances of your birth?”

“Ekivia said I was her last project,” Mada said, glancing at Nevets out of the corner of his eyes. “I had two siblings, but they were taken and killed by the priests when she lost her license. Someone helped her get the bees with her code in them and brought her an ape mother. They gave the name Egeil, but said it wasn’t theirs.”

Mada paused and Nevets kept writing. When the AI didn’t continue speaking spoke again. “Is that everything you know about it?”

“Yeah,” Mada said.

“Alright then. What can you tell me about your education?”

“Um…” Mada began. “Ekivia says I’m on par with diordna my age. She worked hard to be sure I got as normal an education as possible.”

Nevets nodded as he wrote that down. “I’ll have to test that eventually, but for now this will do. I notice you refer to her as Ekivia. She told me that you’re a son to her, so I expected you to call her mom. Is there a reason you don’t? Is she not a mother to you?”

Mada didn’t answer immediately, tightening his lips and cracking his knuckles. “I’m not sure how that’s relevant,” he finally said.

“You can roughly break down diordna intelligence into three categories,” Nevets began. “Raw intelligence, or the ability to process information and solve problems. Emotional intelligence, or the ability to process emotions and apply them to situations. Social intelligence, or the ability to recognize and process social cues and then respond appropriately. Our conversations will test social, the more formal tests later will help me gauge your raw intelligence, and answers to questions like this one as well as your responses to whatever situation we may find ourselves in will help me measure your emotional intelligence. Make sense?”

“Makes sense,” Mada said. “How am I doing so far?”

“You seem socially uncomfortable, but that’s not a bad thing since you can carry a conversation,” Nevets said. “Dytie knows there are plenty of diordna who are uncomfortable in social situations, so that’s not an issue. Your responses seem well thought out, so that’s good too. And we’ll have to see on the emotional side. So, are you ready to answer my question?”

Mada took a deep breath and nodded. “I used to call her mom when I was younger. But as I got older I realized how…different we are. We might be shaped the same, but we aren’t made of the same material. After a while, I decided…I felt like I couldn’t call her my mother anymore, at least not out loud. Not because of her, but because of me. That doesn’t mean I don’t care or that I don’t feel like she is most of the time, it just means I struggle to express it where others can hear.”

“Others being…Ekivia,” Nevets said. “Since she’s been your only contact.”

“I…yeah,” Mada said, looking down at his hands. “Aside from you now.”

Nevets nodded. It sounded a little strange to him, and watching Mada he got the feeling something was missing, something the AI hadn’t shared. But he decided not to press it. “I think we can be done there for tonight.”

“Already?” Mada asked. Though his eyes didn’t change, his voice sounded concerned. “That wasn’t very long.”

“The biolumes aren’t very bright in here,” Nevets said. “Trying to see my notes is starting to bother my eyes. And I could use some rest.”

Mada nodded, looking down again. “You can keep the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

“Are you sure?” Nevets asked.

“Yeah,” Mada replied. “You’re the guest here after all. And I owe you for getting to me on time.”

“Well I…thank you,” Nevets said. “I appreciate the courtesy. But if you need to switch partway through the night please wake me up. We need to both have as much energy as possible in the morning.”

Nevets settled down, tossing the pillow to Mada as the AI lay down in the dirt. It was the least he could do under the circumstances. Then he rolled over and closed his eyes.

“Nevets?” Mada said.

Nevets opened his eyes but didn’t turn toward him. “Yeah?”

“Do you think Ekivia is ok?”

“I don’t know,” Nevets said quietly, the room appearing even darker as his eyes started blackening with sorrow sight. “I hope so. She’s stubborn and tougher than she looks at first. I think she’ll be alright.”

“Yeah,” Mada said, and Nevets heard concern in his voice. Even if his eyes didn’t change, this creature seemed to have the same gamut of emotions that a diordna did. “I’m sorry you were dragged into this.”

“I wasn’t dragged,” Nevets said. “I chose to help you two, and even though things have gotten out of hand I stand by that choice.”

Silence passed between them a moment, then Mada spoke again. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Nevets asked.

“For getting to me before the officer,” Mada said. “For believing Ekivia and risking yourself for both of us. For giving me a chance.”

“Ekivia is my friend,” Nevets said in a whisper. “I can’t say if she’s right to risk so much for you, but she trusted me to do the same. If she is right…well, then you’re the closest thing to family she has left, and I won’t let them take that from her.”

Nevets heard Mada shift on the dirt floor. “You are a good na, Nevets. Kiv is lucky to have you as a friend. We both are."

"I know.” Nevets sighed. “It’s just who I am. It can be both a gift and a curse. Time will only tell which, and when it does I hope there is something left of the three of us to enjoy the friendship."

Silence fell between them, and Nevets shifted on the mattress. It was surprisingly comfortable, so he fell asleep quickly, despite the bruises covering his body.

The next morning Nevets awoke to Mada gently nudging him. He turned over to look at the Animal Intelligence and found him staring wide-eyed, finger against his mouth in a shushing sign. He’d slept without his mask on and still hadn’t put it back on yet.

What? Nevets mouthed, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head in confusion.

In response, Mada pointed upward at the ceiling of the small room.

Nevets turned his eyes upward, and in the silence, he saw the hairlike roots hanging between structural vines tremble almost rhythmically. He could almost watch as one patch trembled slightly, then another a little further along, then another. A few particles of dirt fell from the trembling roots. And now that he was aware of it he could hear the slight thumping of footsteps above them. His sight turned a nearly blinding, fearful, white.

And he was certain at that moment that they were going to be found.