Chapter 7: Marked
Research Log, 17 years (Day 5,809). Second entry. (Cont.)
"I never wanted to be a mother. I avoided it to avoid times like this. Children occupy a large mind space, filling it with fears and concerns that didn't exist before. I should have known my actions would lead me here but I was so caught up in the discovery of it all that I never thought that I was creating a child, that I was creating a son.
"But he is my son, as strange as it is for me to say that. The son I never wanted, and the son I never want to lose."
Iakedrom stared at the bird in silence, uncertain how to respond. He never expected to find something like that in the parrot’s memories. On top of that, Ekivia’s command had been one any parrot would recognize and respond to with no code he could identify. Why had it responded to her and not him?
When he looked up at Ekivia she had the glazed look of someone deep in thought, staring blankly in the bioluminescent light. Iakedrom was certain she'd chosen that log because it gave only a single, vague, answer. Mada was her son, though something was different about him that concerned her. He needed more.
Iakedrom opened his mouth to speak but Ekivia interrupted, unaware that she’d done so.
“Mada is my son.” She almost whispered the words. “And if he is found they will take him from me. I will not allow that to happen.”
Iakedrom took hold of the thread she was offering. “Why would they take him from you?”
“He’s not like other diordna,” Ekivia said, meeting Iakedrom’s eyes. He saw in her expression the stubbornness she’d displayed before, but he felt he was finally starting to understand it.
“Is he a half-skin?” Iakedrom asked.
“Something like that,” Ekivia said.
So not a half-skin, but something similar? What did that even mean? “If he’s a half skin that shouldn’t be a problem. Normal diordna might not like it, but there are no laws that would take him away from you. Half-skins can get along alright despite the prejudice they sometimes face.”
Ekivia didn’t respond, her lips turning down slightly, her eyes darkening with sorrow.
“Who’s the father?” Iakedrom asked. “Is it Nevets?”
Ekivia barked a short laugh, shaking her head. “No, no. He didn’t know Mada existed until yesterday, same as you.”
Of course. Iakedrom thought. If this kid was a half skin then Nevets couldn’t be the father.
“Who is it then?” Iakedrom asked.
“There is no father,” Ekivia said, defiantly refusing to answer the question with something meaningful. Iakedrom sighed and settled back into his chair.
“Is that enough to call off Nailil?” Ekivia asked, hopeful.
“I think at least for a while,” Iakedrom said, placing the bird on his shoulder. “Thank you.”
Ekivia nodded. “Are you sure she’s a priestess of Dytie? Torture seems like the tool of a tyrant, not the tool of a benevolent god and his chosen servants.”
“I’m sure,” Iakedrom said, though he had to agree with her sentiment. “This information will delay her a little, but she says she’s on a deadline and this won’t be enough to satisfy her for long.”
“I understand,” Ekivia said, and Iakedrom left the room.
His mind was troubled by her words as he stepped through the door. The Dytie he knew was merciful and kind, not vengeful and destructive. But he’d had dealings with Nailil before, since she was the Drol’s emissary to their officer’s house, charged with collecting important information and relaying it to the Drol. Still, her actions today disturbed Iakedrom greatly.
On top of that, the only reason he could think that Ekivia would fear that Mada would be taken from her was if he were a full-skinned Redaeli. He’d be taken as a spy, interrogated and tortured, and possibly executed. Maybe he was a fugitive? But why would Ekivia be harboring a Redaeli fugitive? And why would she think of him as a son? He’d have to share what he’d learned with Fosia and Nailil to get their thoughts. Maybe they could figure more out together.
Suddenly Iakedrom noticed something strange. Nailil hadn’t approached him to get answers when he left the room. Instead, she watched him along with the other officers nearby. Fosia approached, her eyes yellow with disgust that matched the eyes of the others around him.
“What?” He asked Fosia as she approached.
In response, she pointed at his prosthetic.
The bit of metal from Ekivia's arm, which he thought he'd dropped on the interrogation table, was crawling up his prosthetic, etching inky black marks into it. He jumped, started by the sight, and shook his arm in an unsuccessful attempt at dislodging it. Finally, Fosia leaped toward him, grabbing the animated skin, ripping it from his shoulder, and throwing it on the ground with a shudder.
It lay still where it fell, covered in Ekivia’s oil, a few spots of blood from Iakedrom’s prosthetic, and what appeared to be some kind of ink.
**********
Nevets stared at Nagemai, the Redaeli White, completely shocked at the cordial introduction. Mada looked at him with an expression that took a moment for Nevets to process because the eye color was constant—outer ring of white, inner ring of pink, and a black dot at the center like many other albino animals—but looking closer he saw the furrowed brow and the wider eyes of fear, looking to him for a cue on what to do next.
“Treblig, go fetch a machinologist,” Nagemai said, and she stooped beside Nevets.
“You sure you’ll be alright with the two of them?” Treblig asked.
“Absolutely,” Nagemai said. “Besides, I’d like a moment alone to get to know them better.”
Treblig nodded, his spiked helm bobbing in an almost bow, then he left through the door.
“Now,” Nagemai said, turning back to Nevets and Mada. “We’ll have a machinologist here in a moment to take care of you. But we should do something to slow the oil.”
Nevets nodded, and she took the long end of the rope that tied his hands together and cut it with her stone knife. Then she used the length of rope to tie a tourniquet high on his thigh above the spear wound. Nevets flinched as she pulled it tight, pinching some of his skin in the folds of his pants. He was sure it would leave a narrow raised bruise.
“Lay on your side so the spear can rest against the ground,” Nagemai said. “It’ll help keep it still so it doesn’t do any more damage.”
Nevets did as instructed, turning as Nagemai slowly lowered the spear, keeping it from pivoting suddenly downward and tearing the wound open further. Finally, he settled in the dirt so his wounded leg was against the ground and the spear lay out in front of him. He hadn’t realized he was getting dizzy until he lay down and the dizziness started to fade.
“Thank you,” Nevets said warily. He didn’t know yet what to make of this nawo.
A silence fell between them, Mada sitting near Nevet’s feet, Nagemai sitting in the dirt in front of them, watching expectantly for a short time before speaking again. “I gave you my name, but you haven’t yet given me yours.”
Nevets stared at her, eyes filled with fear, mind racing, but unwilling to respond. The more information they gave her the worse off they’d be, right? He didn’t feel safe telling her anything, let alone something private like their names.
“I see,” Nagemai said. “Well, if you won’t introduce yourselves I won’t force you. But I will say this much. My army is heading to Rebmevon, and from there we have orders to proceed to your capital. However, I decided to make a detour south to this forest to pay a visit to someone who lives near here. Are either of you familiar with Ekivia Neitkarf?”
Nevets mouth fell open and he subconsciously looked at Mada who had a similar expression on his face.
“Ah, I can see that you do,” Nagemai said, smiling at them. Then she turned and looked at Mada. “I assume you are hers?”
“I am my own,” Mada said, voice shaking though somehow sounding more determined because of the courage it must have taken to speak.
“I’m sorry I misspoke,” Nagemai said. “I promise I won’t do it again. Let me correct myself. I assume you were her last project before she lost her license?”
Again they didn’t respond, though Nevets was beginning to feel as though that didn’t matter. She seemed to know almost everything already, though he didn’t know how she could.
“I understand you don’t trust me,” Nagemai said. “I did just attack you and tie you up, and on top of that I’m redaeli and our nations are at war. So you may not believe me yet when I say that I intend no harm to Ekivia or anyone she trusts enough to share her final creation with, and I promise to do everything within my power to protect you.”
“If that’s true then let us go,” Nevets said. “Taking us into a war zone can only put us in danger.”
“In any other case that might be true,” Nagemai said, and she looked at Mada again. “But yours is unique. There is a reason no one has yet created an AI like you. Some would kill to keep your creation a secret.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Nevets said as Treblig returned with a machinologist. “The only danger is that he would not be accepted as diordna.”
“That’s not true,” Nagemai said. “But we can discuss that later. For now, let’s get you patched up.”
She gestured for the machinologist to start her work. The nawo wore a uniform matching the colors of Trebligs armor, dark forest green and clear wood tan. Most war machinologists had to wear little or no armor to do their work, as the bulky wooden plates often impeded their movements. It meant they were vulnerable to attack, but they were kept at the back and protected by the rest of the army.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
She removed a leather pouch from her machinologists bag and handed it to Nevets. “Drink some of this.”
He took the pouch and sniffed it, looking at the machinologist and then Nagemai suspiciously.
“If I wanted you dead I would have done it myself,” Nagemai said. “It’ll help with the pain.”
Nevets nodded reluctantly and took a drink. The liquid inside came from engineered plants that could produce chemicals to do a variety of things, from numbing pain to knocking someone out to killing.
Once he swallowed the machinologist took the pouch and handed him a rolled piece of leather. “Bite down on this. I have to remove the spear as soon as possible, and the anesthesia won’t take effect for several minutes yet.”
Nevets nodded, taking the leather and putting it between his teeth.
“Ready?” The machinologist asked.
Nevets took a deep breath, but before he could respond or prepare himself the machinologist yanked the spear from his thigh. He screamed through the leather, teeth clenching so tightly his jaw popped and he heard the leather groaning and grinding as his teeth cut through several layers. His head swam with pain and even though he was laying on his side he felt like he was on his feet and falling.
Then, he passed out.
When he regained consciousness he was on a bird, wrists tied to the saddle horn, legs tied to the side of the saddle, and someone’s arms wrapped around him to hold the reins. He tried to turn and look at the driver but his head swam at the motion and he felt like he would fall from the saddle. The driver, feeling him begin to sway, pressed their arms together around him, stabilizing him in the seat.
“Careful,” Nagemai’s voice said from behind him. “Try not to move too much.”
Nevets leaned forward against the saddle horn, closing his eyes to stop the spinning of the world. It didn’t work. “How long has it been?”
“A couple of hours,” Nagemai said. “I wanted to let you rest before we moved, but we’re in enemy territory and can’t stop yet. But you should get a chance to rest soon. We should be close to...”
Suddenly Nevets jolted, not from the pain of his leg bouncing against the bird’s side as it walked, but from a sudden realization. “Where’s… the AI?!?” He nearly shouted the question, trying to look around and again growing nauseous. He’d nearly said Mada’s name, but wasn’t sure he wanted to give away that information still. The less this general knew about them the better, right?
“I’m right here,” Mada said from somewhere behind the bird.
Slowly Nevets turned to look back, craning carefully to look around Nagemai. A rope led from the back of the saddle to Mada’s wrists and he walked along behind the mount. Nagemai didn’t push the creature, seeming to allow Mada to make the pace.
“Are you alright?” Nevets asked though he couldn’t see any obvious signs that Mada had been harmed.
“I’m fine,” Mada said, then he mumbled under his breath. “I’d rather be called something else though.”
“What was that?” Nagemai asked.
Mada’s shoulders slumped and he looked like he was trying to shrink and hide, but he responded a little louder. “I’d like to be called something other than an animal.”
Nevets felt his mouth fall open. It was something he should have thought about before. They were trying to present Mada as equal to diordna, and yet he’d continued to call him an animal. The term AI came from books and theories mostly, but looking at Mada at that moment, Nevets felt that the term wasn’t accurate.
“If I had your name I would use that,” Nagemai said. “But until then, how should I refer to you when speaking?”
“I…” Mada began, then licked his lips. “I think organic diordna would be a more accurate term.”
“Alright,” Nagemai said. “I’ll be sure to use the term.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t think to ask about that sooner,” Nevets said.
“It’s alright,” Mada said. “It isn’t something I had to think about with Ekivia, so the idea is new to me too.”
“Well I like the term,” Nevets said, turning to look forward again. Keeping his neck craned around was not only uncomfortable, but with the motion of the mount, it was starting to make him nauseous again. “I think it’s probably more accurate.”
Mada just nodded and looked back at the lancer’s feet as they walked.
“I would prefer to use your names,” Nagemai said. “It would make things a whole lot easier on all of us.”
Nevets grimaced. She was right, but that didn’t mean he wanted to tell her anything.
“If you don’t want to tell me I can try guessing,” Nagemai said. “At least for you, Mr. scientist. I’ve been thinking about anyone I know of that has any tie to Ekivia and I think I’ve figured out who you are. Nevets Sirrah.”
Nevets stiffened and he hoped Nagemai hadn’t felt it with her arms wrapped around him to hold the reigns. He heard her take a breath to continue speaking, but Treblig approached on his battering bird. It was a little smaller than the Lancer, but the Batterer had a short beak that it used like a hammer the size of a na’s chest. It could beat soldiers and mounts into the dirt with it, or break down doors in a city invasion. Lancers were great at the start of a battle to run down enemies early on, but the Batterer was a weapon for mid-battle.
“We’re almost there,” Treblig said to Nagemai. “There were several officers and their mounts at the house, but they’ve all been subdued.”
“I wish we’d known about the officers,” Nagemai asked, and her tone made Nevets feel like the comment was meant for him. “How many enemies? Any casualties?”
“Of ours, there are three dead, two wounded,” Treblig said. “There were eight of them and five mounts. All captured, though some wounded.”
“Good,” Nagemai said. “We wouldn’t want Ekivia to be killed by accident. Any sign of her?”
“We tried getting the soldiers to give us names or tell us where she was,” Treblig said. “But they’re being as caged as these two.”
“Very well,” Nagemai said. “Line them up outside the house. I’ll interrogate them myself.”
Something in her voice made Nevets feel cold, and his vision paled. The way she usually spoke was so calm and amiable, but when she said she’d interrogate the captives her voice took on a cold hard tone.
They continued their ride for a short time, maybe another quarter hour, before arriving back at Ekivia’s house. If Nagemai had been accurate with her time estimate when Nevets had awoken then the trip from Mada’s hiding place to here had taken nearly three times as long as when he and Mada had gone out. Nevets supposed with an army all moving together, walking to conserve energy for an upcoming battle and to avoid rushing into a trap, they couldn’t move nearly as quickly as two desperate fugitives running through the forest.
When they arrived at the house it was much as it had been when they’d left the day before, with officers outside the house and a couple of Pursuers waiting for their riders, boxes strapped to their backs, and a few on the ground around them, Redaeli soldiers holding their reigns. There were also a couple of Trackers, canine mounts that were about half the size of a Pursuer and designed for a single rider. They weren’t as fast as the Pursuers but they had strong noses that allowed them to track down fugitives, and despite their slower running speed, they were still faster than the average diordna. The two here were both mottled grey and black, with drooping ears and lips designed to direct smells toward their nose and isolate them from distracting smells in the surrounding area.
The other difference about the scene before him was a strange reflection of the scene before he’d left. Officers knelt near the front door, hands tied behind their backs, with soldiers guarding them.
Nagemai waved Treblig over and he approached, taking her reigns. Then, with a soft tongue click from Nagemai as a command, the bird settled into the dirt, sitting with its feet beneath its body and making it easier for Nagemai to dismount safely. A moment later Treblig clicked his tongue and dismounted his, tying the reigns of the Lancer to those of the Batterer.
“Is this every diordna in the house?” Nagemai asked Treblig as she dismounted.
“Yes,” Treblig said. “We’ve searched the surrounding area as well, and there’s no one else here.”
“Great,” Nagemai said, turning back to look at Nevets. “Are any of them Ekivia? I’ve never actually seen her myself, so I’ll need some help identifying her.”
Nevets looked over the officers. There were eight of them, five nawo, three na. None of them were Ekivia, but Nevets wasn’t going to tell Nagemai that. He met the general’s eyes, face impassive.
“I guess I’ll have to get the answer the hard way.” Nagemai turned away, whispered something to Treblig, and approached one of the na officers, standing in front of the officers so she was facing away from the Nevets and toward the house. Treblig approached and stood behind the officer, and for some reason, he was watching Nevets instead of Nagemai or the officer.
The White General drew her spear.
“Where is Ekivia Neitkarf?” She asked.
The na glared at her, eyes pink with fear and anger.
Nagemai abruptly stabbed the na through the eye, shattering it. He died almost instantly, the spear piercing his brain, emotion sight and oil spraying from his face then along the spear shaft and down his cheek. Nagemai yanked the spear back and the na fell forward, settling face down in the dirt. Nevets eyes turned a light, fearful, disgusted yellow.
Then she stepped to stand in front of a nawo. “Where is Ekivia.”
Like the officer before her, this one glared up at Nagemai, though Nevets thought her eyes were a little more fearful, a lighter pink than the officer before her.
Nagemai looked to Treblig, then pulled the still dripping spear, hesitated a moment, then rammed it through the officer’s eye in the same way as the first, drilling the spear into her brain then yanking it back and letting the corpse thump into the dirt.
She stepped to the next nawo. “Where is Ekivia?”
There was almost no anger in the officer’s eyes, but she didn’t respond. Nevets stomach started to churn even before Nagemai speared this one’s eye, and as the third corpse fell he tasted slag.
He closed his eyes against the scene.
“Where is Ekivia?” A brief silence. The cracking of a shattering eye was followed by the wet ripping sound of the spear being yanked from the officer’s skull. The thump of the body in the dirt.
“Where is Ekivia?”
This time Nevets heard the officer breathing heavily as if trying to resist great pain. Then there was the shout of a na that sounded like it was coming from behind clenched teeth, just before the sound of his eye shattering silenced him and Nevets heard his body hit the dirt as well.
Someone’s breath rattled with fear, the next officer who Nevets knew to be a na. He imagined white tears rolling down the officer’s face as he was overcome with fear and Nagemai stabbing him through the pale eye, spilling the rest of the fear and killing the officer.
But the sound of cracking eye never came.
“She’s in the officer’s house on the southeast side of the city,” the na’s trembling voice answered.
Relief washed over Nevets and he opened his eyes. Nagemai stepped to the next officer, leaving the one who’d spoken alive.
“Is that true?” She asked the nawo, and the officer nodded. She stepped to the final officer, also a nawo. “Is that true?” The officer nodded. “Wonderful. You three get to live. If you’re lying to me then I will change my mind.”
Nagemai turned around and came back to the Lancer. “Nevets, do you know the officer’s house they’re referring to?”
He nodded absently, and she smiled at him warmly. “Wonderful. Then you’ll be reunited with Ekivia before too long.”
Nagemai climbed into the saddle, taking the reigns from Treblig, who’d untied them, and wrapped her arms around Nevets again. Nevets cringed, pulling away from her arms where they touched his, trying to shrink in the saddle as he tried to swallow the slag that rose in his throat.
“Monster,” Nevets said just loud enough for Nagemai to hear, not looking back at her.
She spoke softly, almost kindly, from her place behind him. “Given the chance would you not kill me as well?”
“That would be to protect my diordna,” Nevets said through clenched teeth. “Not cold-eyed and merciless like what you just did.”
“And if I let them go what would happen then?” She asked.
Nevets didn’t answer.
“Few soldiers fight without some ‘good’ reason. To protect, to avenge, to champion truth. But even fewer forgive the same motives in their enemies. It’s part of why we keep trying to destroy each other. We can’t stand to admit that we are all the same.”
Nevets didn’t respond. Though he couldn’t help but admit to himself that she wasn’t wrong, he didn’t have to admit the same to her.
Nagemai clicked her tongue and the Lancer stood, and the army continued their march toward Rebmevon, dead officers left to drain the life oil into the dirt, surviving officers taken by soldiers as prisoners.
Despite his disgust, Nevets found some consolation in the thought that they at least had a way to rescue Ekivia from Iakedrom now. Though he wished the means had come in any other way.