The officer whom I had assisted into the grave was a bully, a tormentor of lower ranking soldiers. Besting him in a fight was the shortest route to the hearts of the soldiers in the outer yard. The low ranks had watched him brutalize their companion soldiers on all sides without remorse. They all knew he was coming for them eventually.
When I returned to the barracks, I was surprised by the welcome I received. My companions had trumped me up to some kind of legend, first, for surviving butchery, and second, for surviving starvation. They handed me their allegiance like children. From here, it was a simple step to recruiting the ranks to an underground army.
The difficulty was in keeping the ranks motivated to the purpose. And I was still untrained with a sword, but I quietly organized and rallied my comrades from damp irresolution to some kind of fighting spirit. And from there, we scraped for food, bolstering our strength on beetles and grubs which we collected from beneath the stones of our square. I trained these men in my own self-taught pattern of sword-play. It was sloppy and desperate, but it seemed to ignite a fire within them. Gradually, strength and renewed purpose supplied us with balance, and balance yielded to technique. Technique to skill. Skill to rank, but not to a berth within the inner compound. Not for me. Army leadership held me at a safe distance and this satisfied me.
Whenever a man of mine fell, I demanded medical help, and though our superiors would supply very little, the physicians who had come to examine me in my cell had not given up interest in me. They had continued their study and were occasionally on hand to intervene at a critical moment.
“Have you kept the log I gave you?”
“Yes, Sensei, and I’ll give it to you, but before that, there’s someone who needs your attention much more desperately. I believe he will die without it.”
“Where’s your medic?”
“You’re the only one we’ll ever see.” I dragged him by one arm into the cold barrack and brought him to the bedside of my latest injured.
The doctor examined the soldier. “He has lost some blood, but these wounds aren’t fatal by themselves. It’s these shabby dressings,” The doctor pulled a soiled bandage away from the wound. “Infection will kill him.”
“We haven’t any clean bandages. Most wounds go unbound.”
“You have medics in the compound. I know you do.”
“We get little attention from them.”
The doctor fell silent, his eyes turned mournful. “I’ll see that you get equipment, but it won’t be enough. You’ll need instruction. I’ll teach you not only how to bandage, but to treat other likely ailments you’ll encounter.”
The honest doctor supplied us with a small apothecary. Herbs and bandages both. He taught me how to clean the wounds as well as wrappings. How to prepare several kinds of poultice to leach infection and regrow flesh. How to detect a fracture and set the broken bone. He saved at least ten of my men from acute infection. And he did all this freely, or almost.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“I’ve been observing you for months, Ansei. I’ve measured you, collected every kind of fluid…nearly. Examined you thoroughly and after so much time and a great deal of puzzling, I have finally concluded …” He paused.
“What?”
“…you aren’t human.”
I blinked at the man, barely breathing. “If not human, then what?”
“That, I won’t say. I would like to do more tests. Would you cooperate with me?”
“Cooperate so you can take away my humanity?”
“I know this seems a logical step too far, but you might be surprised to know how much I’ve observed in my professional life and beyond, and how much of my experience supports my conclusion.”
It wasn’t sloppy logic that bothered me, but the old man’s canny precision. Still, I denied, “I’m human. Nothing else.”
“Calm down. At this point you are more of a hobby to me than a professional case. I don’t stake my career on finding you out. I’m curious—not a champion to go about challenging you. And of course, all of this.” He waved a hand at the tools we owed entirely to his supply. “has been quite expensive, but we must all acknowledge the moral imperative to do everything we can to aid the vulnerable…”
“Are you speaking of my aid, or your own?”
“Why? Can’t I speak of both at once?”
“Then let’s not play games. What do I owe you?”
“More blood. But I would be heartily gratified if you could show me your supply of beetles. Your insect diet is rather extraordinary and I wish to study it more closely…and tell me. How effective is your sight through your compound eyes? I’ve always been so interested to know how you use them.”
* * *
My lungs tightened and my breath stilled. The doctor had found my eyes—all eight of them, I suspected. I didn’t know what to say. How to confirm or deny. But my apparent confusion was affirmation enough, and he waved all excuses off with an idle shake of his hand before shuffling through the gap that served as doorway.
The doctor knew enough to end everything for me, but he didn’t have any interest in a quick end. And his gifts of bandages and medicines continued to flow into the barracks.
* * *
“You are an oddity, but don’t give yourself too much credit. I’ve seen greater aberrations of nature than yourself.”
I raised one brow in silent question.
“Now Earth Kumo was a surprise, but have you ever encountered a man who is also a fox? I have.” He grinned. “Now who is surprised? The world is wide and you aren’t the only curiosity of nature in it. I’m not about to inform anyone. The military has already tried to murder you and failed. Between us, I think they’re out of ideas for dealing with you. You’ve stumped them.”
“I’ve no illusions they’ve given up trying.”
“No doubt. No doubt. Whatever you do, don’t let anybody lead you into the brothels. You’re not built for it. It could kill you.”
I scratched the nervous itch creeping up my neck, and glanced away. “I know.”
“It’s not so bad. Your career was meant to be brief, but brilliant. Who wouldn’t want to die at their peak of manhood? None of that gradual petering of virility. Nature is strange. Strange, yes, but perfect in its strangeness.”
I kept my face averted, lifting the flap on his satchel in search of anything to change the subject. “What else did you bring for supplies?”
“I would die like that. I would. Oh, yes. And herbs! I have to tell you. They are getting expensive. And I’ve thought about it. With your gifts, you should be cultivating herbs and giving them to me. I’ve heard myths of what your kind can do with a garden and I don’t doubt them for a minute. You should quit this stupid warring profession. Be a doctor…or a pharmacist at least.”
I gestured to the cold stone square outside. “I’m conscripted. They didn’t ask me if I wanted to be here. And how do you propose I cultivate herbs in this compound?”
“I’ll talk to your leadership. I think I can persuade them from a resources point of view. Wait till we see what you can do with them!”