Day 6: Evening
Blue. It splashed, wetting his toes, and the sunlight reflected in the droplets left on the white-tiled floor. The water was so clean that Marco could easily see the bottom and the occasional diver swimming nimbly from one corner of the pool to the other.
“So… this is swimming,” he said, fighting back against a fear he never knew existed. Every ounce of common sense screamed in the corners of his mind: Don’t drown!
“Yep,” Cordelia confirmed, hiding her hair under a leather cap. She was wearing a tight-fitting blue swimsuit. “You’ll like it.”
Marco doubted it. A sort of ancestral dread washed over him, pounding in his temple, telling him to run, else something utterly irreversible might’ve happened to him. He wasn’t sure what was going on; Marco certainly didn’t consider himself a coward, as he had teased every one of his siblings, including Yennifer, and lived to tell the tale.
Besides, today was a great day! Cordelia took him… Well, more like he was forcibly caught in the natural disaster of a sandstorm that the young girl had turned herself into, but that was beside the point. Joined by the other young Ice Fangs, the group had visited several shops and bought Marco’s stylish black jacket with silver zippers and similar pants that were incredibly comfortable and warm. The boy pleaded and tried his best to convince Cordi that he didn’t have the tokens to pay for them, but the girl was merciless.
They spent thirty minutes picking out a hat for him, during which time Marco got to know the other cubs. He fully expected to be hated for being the reason they were stuck in the mall for so long, but a large Sunblade told him not to worry. The cubs refused to believe that Marco did not know how to use a sword, especially after he won an arm-wrestling contest against a Voidrunner, and Cordelia proudly led them to a fencing club, where Marco accidentally broke the Sunblade’s training sword in two after a hard swing, surprising both the youngster and the instructor.
After that moderate fun, they visited a park, and for a while he had the time of his life, competing with his new friends in climbing rope ladders and scaling rocks. It didn’t last; the happy moments never lasted long for Marco, and after fifteen minutes, his knees began pulsating. Anissa, who accompanied him on this trip, noticed it and led her brother away, hiding the true reason for his absence from everyone but Cordelia. The medical gel helped; his knees ached no longer, but Marco was bitter about not being able to join in the fun for long.
Cordelia noticed, and the group next visited a place called ‘Steak House’, where the smell of fat, heavenly tender meat had lifted his spirits. He even enjoyed the genuinely shocked looks of the cubs as he and Cordi ravenously competed to devour the largest pile of steaks, and when his new friends whispered and bet on which of the two cubs would burst first, it was music to his ears. He was normal! And he was normal when they visited the comic bookstore, and his eyes flashed at the sight of all those awesome superheroes pummeling down the vicious villains, and the cubs left the store, carrying away months of reading material. Marco planned to read all tonight long.
So, maybe this isn’t that bad, either? Marco pondered, sniffing the water. It had a soft chemical scent to it that made his fur rose, but the other non-Wolfkin cubs swam here confidently, and there were people sitting on the tall chairs, watching the pool and ready to rescue someone at a moment’s notice. The pool itself was large, easily reaching five hundred meters in length. Several sections were set aside for the adults to practice in, while the youngest cubs and their parents splashed around near the walls.
“Here goes nothing,” Marco mumbled and made a great step for himself into the blue waters.
“Wait for us!” Cordelia yelled, but the waters had already closed over him.
He was submerged. The sounds faded. Marco opened his eyes hesitantly, unsure what to do as his weight carried him to the bottom. He wasn’t afraid at first. The situation was more funny than anything else; his arms and legs moved slowly, the bubbles flying out of his mouth. Then he swallowed, sensed water in his ears, in his nose, around his face, and understood that he couldn’t breathe and that he had no idea how to get oxygen! He wanted to breathe, but there was no air, and Marco flapped his arms in panic, trying to calm himself to climb out, when a paw grabbed him by the scruff of his neck.
Anissa lifted her worried brother out of the water, ahead of Cordelia, who jumped into the pool, and the approaching lifeguard. Positioned on her stomach, her head resting on her fist, she asked: “Feeling fine? Ready to try again?”
“I…” Marco closed his eyes, calming his heart. “Yeah… Thank you for the rescue, sis.”
“I will always be by your side to help you, brother.” Her artificial eye swirled in tune with her smile. “Off you go.”
“Wait!” He screamed, but Nissi already let him go.
He expected to disappear under the waters again, but this time, Cordi and another cub of the Sunblade household were there to help him stay above the water.
“Is he clowning us?” a chubby Voidrunner girl asked, swimming nearby on her back. After a few glances, she stopped and raised her paws. “I mean, you saw how he climbed! Marco is strong and fast.”
“Not a swimmer, though.” Marco smiled nervously, lifting his head high. “Don’t know how.”
“Don’t panic, everything is okay,” Cordi advised him and left him in the Sunblade care. She swam in front of Marco. “Observe and repeat my movements, Marco, and don’t worry a bit…”
The boy obeyed Cordelia, mimicking her arm movements, and soon gasped when he realized the Sunblade wasn’t holding him anymore. The white-furred boy grinned broadly and gave Marco a thumbs up, while the boy did his best to remember his lessons and stay above water. His new friends never let him down; another boy replaced Cordelia, patiently explaining and showing how to swim on the back, and Marco lost track of time, finding himself playing and even splashing water at his new friends.
And the best of all came later. His legs. His knees didn’t hurt, not a single cramp ran up his muscles, his limbs obeyed him, and he spread his arms and legs and laughed at the ceiling:
“It’s so awesome! Anissa, I am swimming!”
“You sure are,” his sister replied, sipping tea at a safe distance from the water. She frowned as the Orais instructor looked down at her. “What?”
“You’re wearing a swimming suit.” The New Breed pointed at her bright crimson suit.
“Yeah, and your point?” Anissa tensed.
“In here you either swim or you’re a creep who watches young children.” The Orais crossed his arms and tapped his short leg.
“Guess I am a creep then, because I am overseeing these cubs.” Anissa shrugged. The man’s eyes never wavered, and a low growl escaped the wolf hag’s lips. “You are pushing your luck, male. Fine,” she sighed and slammed a glass down on the table, “a single dive won’t hurt.”
“Join us, Anissa!” Marco waved his paw. “The water is warm, promise!”
“If that’s what you wish,” Anissa chuckled and eyed the instructor. “Well, time for a bomb. A dive-bomb.”
Anissa bounced off the tiled floor, almost touching the high ceiling, and spun around in the air, her arms and legs wrapped around her. She came down like a cannonball, sending wide ripples around the pool and showering the laughing and clapping cubs with water. Appearing awkwardly above the water, flailing her arms and legs to stay afloat, she joined in their fun, beaming when they asked if the sword saints could jump as high.
****
Day 8: Midday
“Told you it wasn’t the right direction,” Elzada sang after Melina faced a dead end at the end of the alley.
“Shut it; you are not a scout anymore. A wolf hag is never wrong; she merely unearths interesting surprises on the way to her destination.” Melina ran a paw over the rough surface and pulled out the map. “I could’ve sworn it was here…” She walked back to the group, shouldering the laughing Elzada aside.
Their small group of Wolfkins recovering from their wounds was on their way to an unusual destination today. Elzada was the one to find it by accident after browsing Ignacy’s terminal when her honey passed out in her den after a long day of tinkering with drones. She pulled a blanket over him and decided to see what was on the net and what curious things Houstad had to offer.
A healing massage. The word was unfamiliar to her, and she asked Maxence about it, who explained to Elzada that there were indeed procedures to restore the elasticity of a limb after trauma, and that specialists helped Normies recover in military hospitals. However, he had no knowledge of anyone providing the same services to the New Breeds, who healed at their own speed.
Her interest was piqued. Elzada thanked the helpful doctor for giving her medical materials to read and stormed off to summon her crew. A post-traumatic healing massage? She just had to learn what it was, and she, Melina, Sarkeesian, and Impatient One ventured into the city.
They quickly got lost in its many alleys, to the scowling and cursing of the shaman, who spat bile at the wolf hags for not learning the environment already.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
“I familiarized myself with the local bars rather well.” Sarkeesian tugged the collar of her coat, frightening the passing cubs with her drill smile.
“And what good will that do you if you have to set up a defensive perimeter?” Impatient One elbowed Sarkeesian in the jaw, closing her mouth, and nodded to the cubs. “Competence. Instead of scaring the little ones, act your age and stay alert. Any ideas on how to find this palace of promiscuity?”
“If you’ll give me another chance…” Melina started.
“Let’s ask the police,” Elzada offered, too horrified about the idea of spending a good portion of an hour walking after the hopelessly lost wolf hags. The two navigated the concrete jungle well when their destination was within reach of a bus stop, but outside of it they stumbled and came to a halt, too proud to ask for help.
The white-haired policeman in charge of a small unit that kept the peace in these streets saluted them with two fingers on his cap.
“Beta and Gamma mending and relaxation center…” His friendly face hardened after the police officer learned of their destination. The man scratched his tanned face. “You sure you want to go in there? Freaks are running this place.”
“Pray explain, what do you mean, sir?” Sarkeesian asked innocently.
“Non-humans.” The officer faced her eyes. “They are not like us. Not New Breeds, not Normies, but the lab-grown vat monsters that escaped containment and somehow wormed their way into the trust of the humans. You never know what to expect from them…”
“According to the reviews, they are masters of their craft,” Melina showed the terminal to the officer, who waved his arm.
“Lies or fakery. These things can bide their time before striking…”
“Well, it is good that everyone is equal under the Dynast’s rule,” Elzada said steely, watching the officer. “Any discrimination is forbidden, and slurs are punished. Mind your mouth,” she read the officer’s name from his badge, “Officer Zurkov, and treat every citizen with the dignity and care they deserve. You can start showing care by showing us the way, personally.”
“Your funeral,” Zurkov sighed. “I warned you.”
Zurkov escorted them to a building hidden under a busy highway. Placed among a series of similar stores offering various services, it was always invisible. Each merchant and artisan here gave his place of work its own unique look, and Elzada was pleasantly surprised to see hanging insectoid legs in the Pest Eliminator shop and clay lamps from her distant home. Tourists were the primary visitors to this place, and Zurkov excused himself to help an elderly woman find her family after they were separated in the rush.
The center itself was a nice, two-story block building, gray, but covered by the colorful billboards advertising the very best relaxation a Normie or New Breed could receive in several languages. Impatient One slapped Elzada over the back, and the wolf hag took the lead and knocked on the door.
“Coming, coming!” The door opened, and the speaker pressed his thirty arms together. “My, what rare guests! Step in, step in; there is no truth in legs; sit down and relax, please.”
Rare was not a word Elzada would have used to describe them, not when the speaker was one of the most exotic people she’d ever seen. He, she assumed from the voice to be a male, moved on a fat ‘foot’ similar to that of a snail, and his black body resembled an oily substance held in place by a thin membrane. Their host throbbed, shrinking and expanding in response to his excitement. Stalks grew from his head, supporting round, wet eyes. Occasionally, flashes of light appeared over his body, always close to where the tendrils grew. At the end of each tendril was a suction cup, which this strange human used as a hand, as Elzada understood when he placed one on the door handle. He was taller than her on a head.
The owner led them inside a small, clean room with a counter, a white sofa, and a spiral staircase leading up. One of his arms banged on the kettle, turning it off; another muted a drum beat; several others rummaged through shelves, placing mugs on the table near the sofa. Letters of thanks and health advice were pinned to the walls.
“We, uh…” Elzada blushed as her host shoved a cookie into her paw after she sat down on the sofa. “We have recently healed our wounds and would like a massage. I read you offer the first session for free.”
“We do! It’s wonderful... I don’t mean wonderful that you got hurt; that’s very sad, but wonderful that you came, ladies. I am Gamma-18.” Their host bowed, almost pressing his face into his leg. “Beta-18! Wake up, we have visitors!”
“Is it the protesters again?” asked a voice from above, and they heard a heavy splash against the floor. “Do you want me to hug you so you can sleep?”
“No, customers!” Gamma-18 replied, and his stalks twitched. “I’m terribly sorry about the closed doors, but there were incidents…”
“Customers trying to escape?” Sarkeesian grinned.
“Planet forbid!” Gamma-18 gasped. “No, we have never let customers down. It’s just… the origin of our birth attracts a certain amount of ire from people.”
“We are not human,” stated a complete copy of Gamma-18, slithering down the stairs and stretching out his thirty arms. “Brother and I woke up in a laboratory, locked in a vat, then we were freed by the explorers and taken to an orphanage. Is that going to be a problem?”
“My only problem is that I came to experience your hardest massage and instead you feed me cookies,” Impatient One growled, then nodded at Gamma-18. “Very nice treats, by the way.”
“My pleasure. I had baked them myself.” A thin white line appeared on Gamma-18’s upper body, symbolizing a smile.
“Hardest, huh? That would be the deep tissue massage procedure. Lady, you’ll be crying your eyes out.” Beta-18 opened a door leading to a small room. “I suggest opting for something more relaxing.”
“It is my duty as a shaman to learn about the perils of civilized life. If I so much as scream, you may consider yourself the winner of this bout, male.” Impatient One narrowed her eyes and entered the room.
“This is not a fight, and I don’t care about winning. Understand, this is a procedure done at the strength of a New Breed; it will be unpleasant for the first time…”
Gamma-18 asked the wolf hags questions and helped them decide which relaxation session they would get this time. Melina chose the aid with stiffening the neck after a chokehold. Sarkeesian stopped at the facial massage, and Elzada picked a full course, both for the rest of her biological leg and for her bad back. They were led into individual rooms, but Gamma-18 didn’t follow them. Elzada lay down on a table in the middle of the room and pushed her snout into the cut opening. The arms of the sentient bio-weapon slid through the round opening into the room, and soon Elzada felt them rubbing a gel into her body.
“If anything hurts, say so immediately, Elzada.” Gamma-18’s voice came from all around her. “This massage does not involve any irritation sensations. Relax and enjoy.”
She barely listened to him, closing her eyes and shivering with her whole body as his arms began to work on her tired muscles. Elzada knew a little about relaxation massage; she and Ignacy often rubbed each other’s backs after a hard day’s work, but what Gamma-18 was doing was in a whole other league.
His suction cups clung tightly to her body, but they didn’t harm a single strand of hair as they traced the muscles working on the knots. He rubbed and drummed, accelerating the wolf hag’s breathing as calm descended upon her. The careful, targeted pressure and circular movements over the muscles in her waist made her legs twitch. Gentle stretching helped Gamma-18 determine the limits of her biological leg, and he carefully tested the elasticity of her artificial replacement.
The massager seemed to know everything about her. When a twinge of pain tensed Elzada’s back where one of her scars hadn’t yet healed, Gamma-18 adjusted his massage and pressed on the other spot in her back. There was a pop, and Elzada’s shoulders spread a little, and she thought she had grown an inch. When she expressed this thought, Gamma-18 pleasantly assured her it was just her imagination. Stiffened muscles, strained fingers—nothing escaped the master’s treatment.
“This is… a novelty…” Elzada picked up the approving grunt of Impatient One. “Go on! I didn’t say stop.”
“How are you tolerating it?” Beta-18 demanded to know. “I had patients crying during the procedure.”
“We should have paid you,” Elzada groaned. “Can we still give you tokens, Gamma-18? I don’t have much, but they are yours…”
“No, no, no, I don’t want to hear about breaking the terms of the contract! If you want to pay me back, please leave a review. It helps me earn a reputation to achieve my dream.” Gamma-18 assured her.
“What is this reputation?” Melina asked sleepily.
“You see, since the world has become more interconnected, the companies are pickier whom to employ,” Beta-18 explained. “Sure, the Reclamation Army government clamps down on every asshole, requiring years of experience just to become a janitor…”
“Why? Isn’t that an important job?” Melina interrupted him.
“It is, but it is also an entry-level job,” Impatient One said. “I am not certain what this ‘entry’ term really means, but as the supreme shaman explained to us, it goes somewhat like that. When people can’t put food on the table, they get bitter and rebel. So the government is forcing big companies to swallow this pill and actually teach young men and women on the spot how to work. They also combat inequality, so that no one would hire only New Breeds over Normies because New Breeds can work longer. Am I right?”
“In a way, miss,” Gamma-18 said. “There are also mandatory regulations to ensure proper shifts, but in spirit, you are correct. As my brother said, the corporations are picky. For me to become a massage therapist in a military rehabilitation clinic, I need to have five years of experience and a pristine clean online history.”
“As in never visiting the Net?” Sarkeesian inquired.
“Not exactly.” Gamma-18 produced a clicking sound. “I must steer clear of gambling, don’t throw racial slurs, don’t conduct myself in inflammatory behavior, treat religion with respect, don’t impose my beliefs on others, and so on.”
“I wouldn’t know how to build it,” Elzada admitted. She occasionally had very heated arguments with her son over the Net.
“Oh, it is easy!” Gamma-18 assured her. “Just go with your conscience. And for my dream of joining the official rehabilitation service, I will try my best.”
“A weird dream, considering we earn more here, brother!” Beta-18 laughed.
“The pursuit of material wealth doesn’t interest me, brother,” Gamma-18 responded, working on Elzada’s neck, and she had to slow her breath so not to gasp from pleasure. “I enjoy helping people. It is my calling, which I found when I helped with the daycare at the orphanage.”
“A noble desire,” Melina noted.
“Thank you…”
“Get out of our city, monsters! Down with the freaks!”
Elzada was on her feet the moment she heard the angry scream from the window. Ignoring the biological cups that tried to get her to sit down, the wolf hag looked outside, where a small crowd of Normies, mutants, and New Breeds had gathered. They waved posters of painted hanged monsters over their heads and threw rotten fruit and garbage at the building, but a line of police officers standing in front of them ensured that no violence would be used against the brothers today.
A familiar white-haired figure swatted aside the rotten fruit aimed at the house and snapped an order to the officers to raise their shields and protect the property. Elzada expected swift retaliation, but Zurkov remained in place, seemingly content to prevent violence.
“Protesters again.” Gamma-18 opened the door and handed Elzada her clothes. “I am so sorry about the disturbance. We will call the police right away.”
“Why are they doing nothing?” Elzada nodded at the officers.
“Zurkov hates us.” Beta-18 appeared in the corridor. “No idea why. The bastard always does the bare minimum…”
“Don’t say that. He protects our property and gives us names to sue for damages,” his brother said, dialing the call. “And when the families tried to muscle us out, he stood by us.”
“Want us to crack some skulls?” Melina asked.
“Not going to lie, tempting,” Sarkeesian said. “They denied me my pleasure. I’ll deny them their lives. Fair?”
“Do nothing, idiots!” Impatient One bared her fangs. “Remember the words of the Blessed Mother. Don’t create problems.”
Elzada said nothing and just looked out the window, clutching her shoulder in annoyance at the interruption. Racism wasn’t something unusual; the folks of the Ravaged Lands called her kind doggies, but in the Wastes any racism was quickly overcome. Everyone had to work together to survive, and by the end of the second grueling shift, most assholes did not care who replaced them. There were radicals in the past, but they stayed in the past, buried and forgotten.
The situation in Houstad was a bit different. And she struggled to understand why. Who cares how someone came into this world?