The inside of Inor’s house looked completely unlived in. The back door entered into a large family room off which branched many smaller rooms, but none of them contained any furniture. No photos hung on the walls, and the only minor concession to comfort were the thick, neutrally colored rugs liberally distributed over the hard floors. Evie wasn’t sure if this was the normal state of a Honrad home, or if Inor had asked to meet them in an empty house. Based on the strength of the odor inside, she suspected it was the former.
Evie’s eyes settled once again on their host. Inor’s expression was neutral, but something about her stance was less-than-friendly. She didn’t look like she wanted company. In fact, it didn’t look like she had been expecting it. Evie remembered the Honrad’s brief look of surprise when she answered the door and suddenly realized what was going on. Inor had been the one to pick the meeting time and location. She knew what would be going on outside, knew how difficult it would be for Evie to get here unseen. Inor had set them up.
Evie stepped further inside, glad that her mask concealed her now wary expression. Water dripped steadily off of her and Amelia, creating a puddle on the hard floor beneath them. Inor’s gaze flicked down to the puddle, and one of her eyes twitched. Slowly, Evie flipped Amelia over, point down. The umbrella didn’t resist. Evie tapped the tip of her feral against the floor, deliberately splattering more water around them.
Inor pursed her lips. “Let me bring you something to dry yourself,” she said, then turned on her heel and left the room.
As soon as Inor was out of sight, Amelia jerked from Evie’s grip and righted herself. “You realize that overgrown scrotum was trying to get us caught, right?” she hissed, shaking herself vigorously and spraying water everywhere, including all over Evie.
“Yes,” Evie hissed back. “But let’s see what she has to say before we do anything about it.”
A moment later, Inor returned with a large towel.
“Give me that garment,” she said, gesturing at Evie’s dripping outer layer. She spoke Common, and her accent sounded like that of a stuffy academic. Evie removed her jacket, careful not to jostle Hat, who was still semi-permanently glued to her shirt underneath. As she traded the coat for the towel, Inor caught sight of the pigeon for the first time.
The Honrad gasped and took a step backwards. “Monitor! I am honored!” she said in Quall, bowing deeply to the pigeon. Evie’s mask immediately translated the words into subtitles, though she didn’t need them to understand.
Hat slowly turned his head towards the Honrad. He blinked a few times, half dazed, before unsticking himself from Evie’s chest and flopping unsteadily onto her forearm. Behind them, Amelia snickered. Even Evie was momentarily distracted by the sight of the poor, half-drowned pigeon. Hat had deflated to half his normal size. Ragged tufts of plastered feathers replaced his normally poofy plumage, making his neck look too thin to support his now disproportionately large head.
Evie took pity on the bird and gently draped the towel over him, carefully massaging the worst of the water from his feathers. Inor watched closely, as if concerned Evie might hurt the pigeon. When Hat was as dry as he was going to get from the towel, Evie pulled it away. He shook himself like a dog, and his still damp feathers exploded into a halo around him, transforming him into something adjacent to a hedgehog.
“Uhh.... Thanks,” he said belatedly, addressing Inor from his perch on Evie’s arm. He blinked, then squinted in concentration. “We appreciate your time, and help,” he said in heavily accented, almost incomprehensible Quall. Evie had to stifle a laugh. He sounded like he was reading the words straight from google translate.
Inor’s response was immediate. Her eyes went wide, and she ducked her head to Hat for a second time, nervously scratching the folds of skin on the back of her neck beneath a tuft of greasy hair. Evie’s unexpected arrival had barely fazed the Honrad, but being addressed directly by the pigeon seemed to rattle her.
Straightening, Inor led them to a smaller, windowless side room before once again bustling out of sight. Evie toweled herself and Amelia off, thinking through Inor’s reaction to Hat and debating how she could use it.
Inor returned a moment later, clutching a wooden tray. On it sat two small bowls, one full of water, the other of birdseed. It was obvious who the offerings were meant for. She laid the tray on the ground and took a seat behind it. Hat, needing no further encouragement, hopped down onto the rim of the birdseed bowl and helped himself. Inor watched him, looking pleased that he had accepted her hospitality. After a moment, she curtly gestured at Evie to sit.
“My family will return soon. Ask your questions quickly assassin,” she said, back to speaking Common.
Evie sat, but took her time about it. “Inor, I presume?” she said, choosing to speak Common for now. Inor wasn’t the ally she had been expecting, and it seemed like a good idea to hold some of her cards close to her chest. “You know who my assignment is?”
“Yes.” Inor replied. “Vorclom Ude. He runs the Resurrection Center in Shlordal Sha.”
“What can you tell me about him?”
“He has held his position for five years, which means he is competent,” Inor responded. “His personal life is unremarkable.”
After a pause, Evie asked, “is there anything else notable about him?”
“He is by all accounts a hardworking, upstanding citizen.”
“Nothing else that might be useful to me?”
“No.”
Beneath her mask, Evie’s eyes narrowed. Informants were volunteers. Well-compensated insiders who were allegedly invaluable to an assassin’s assignment. Despite that, Inor didn’t seem overly inclined to give the information she had come for. Evie would be damned if this was a total waste of time. There were other things she could learn from the Honrad.
Evie reached up and pulled her mask off, meeting Inor’s eyes directly for the first time. The Honrad hid her surprise well, but not well enough. Evie set the mask down, reached forward, and plucked the bowl of water meant for Hat off the tray. Without breaking eye contact, she took a long drink. Inor’s jaw tightened.
“We noticed a lot of individuals in the forest today,” Evie said, carelessly tossing the bowl back down. “Looking for birds and other animals. Is that normal?” She held up a hand and examined her fingernails.
“It is a popular pastime on our day of rest.”
“Wow, that’s… depressing,” Amelia chimed in. Her irreverent tone was even more exaggerated than normal. “What’s so interesting about all those aspiring appetizers?”
Inor looked sharply at the umbrella. So did Hat, but he caught Evie’s eye and remained silent. “We Honrad have great respect for our world, and all its inhabitants. A sentiment many do not understand.”
“Hmm,” Evie hummed, feigning boredom. She reached down and held out a hand to Hat, who immediately hopped onto it. She lifted him to her face and pressed her lips to his feathered back, gently kissing him like one would a pet. Inor went rigid.
“Pity you didn’t give us a heads up about the crowds. I was hoping my first kill would be more memorable, but we don’t always get what we want, do we?” Evie reached into her pocket and tossed the small box she had stolen from the dead Honrad onto the tray between them. “It wasn’t a total loss, though. Tell me what these are.”
Inor’s composure was visibly cracking. Her black eyes had narrowed to slits that stood out against her gray face, and her lips twitched back, revealing large, blunt teeth. Evie knew that look. It was the look that the Honrad got right before they snapped and went berserk. She kept her body language casual, but shifted slightly so it would be easier for her to move. Amelia sank down and rested herself against Evie’s shoulder, her handle a millimeter from Evie’s hand.
But to Evie’s surprise, after a long moment, Inor seemed to master herself. Her face returned to stony neutrality, and she visibly relaxed back into her haunches. Evie wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. It seemed the Honrad were not as easy to provoke as the exercises in the Stealth Room had led her to believe.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Inor reached forward and opened the box, glancing inside. “They are game cameras. We use them in the forest to keep track of,” she glanced at Amelia, “the aspiring appetizers we find most interesting.”
Evie’s eyes widened. The Common translation didn’t seem quite right since the Honrad didn’t hunt, but she got the idea. That could be an incredibly useful tool if they could figure out how to use them.
“Video only? Is there audio as well?” Evie asked.
“Both,” replied Inor.
Hat hopped to Evie’s shoulder and spun to face Inor, coughing awkwardly to bring the Honrad’s attention back to him. “Inor. Is there any way for us to link the game cameras to Evie’s tablet?”
Inor nodded respectfully. “Of course, Monitor. The tablets use standardized Sniffer tech, so it should be a simple matter.”
“Show me.” Hat flew down to the wooden tray and gestured for Evie to give Inor her tablet.
Inor hesitated. She seemed eager to please the pigeon, but unenthusiastic about helping Evie. Hat blinked up at her endearingly, and Inor caved. She pulled the tablet towards her and showed Hat how to link the game cameras to it.
“Why do you keep calling the pigeon a Monitor?” asked Amelia, floating back into the air now that it was clear there wouldn’t be a physical altercation, at least for now.
Inor glanced at the umbrella. “I apologize. Would you prefer me also call him an aspiring app-”
“Oh just answer the question you inexplicably large testicle- “
“Amelia,” Evie cut in quickly. The conversation was tense enough. She looked at Inor expectantly.
“They are Monitors. They hold us to the laws of The Understanding.” She turned to Hat and continued in Quall. “It gives me peace to know that even ones such as yourself must be roped into this mockery.”
Evie’s eyebrows went up at that. She opened her mouth to ask what Inor meant, but before she could, Amelia dropped and landed hard on Evie’s finger. Evie bit back a swear and looked down at her hand, then at the mask lying next to it. The mask that translated Quall for her, even though she didn’t need it. The mask that she wasn’t wearing. Evie made a mental note to kiss the umbrella later.
After a few minutes, Hat hopped back up onto the bowl of birdseed, and Inor placed Evie’s tablet and the game cameras on the tray. Evie pocketed the devices, trying to decide how to steer the conversation.
“Tell me about the Honrad,” she asked, testing to see if Inor would be any more cooperative.
“What about us?” Inor said. No such luck.
“Whatever feels like it might be useful for me to know.”
Inor shrugged. “You do not need to understand us to kill us.”
“Apparently that’s true of both of us. Isn’t that what you were trying to do today? Get me caught and killed?”
Inor didn’t respond.
“You’ve got balls, Honrad,” Amelia chimed in. “Well… actually, I can see that you don’t. You look enough like one, though… I think that counts. For someone who claims to hold such a deep respect for living things and the rules of The Understanding, you sure were quick to stab Evie in the back.”
“Stab me in the back, and really half-ass the job she’s being paid to do,” Evie said to the umbrella. “The job she volunteered for.”
“I didn’t volunteer to do anything,” Inor responded.
“So you accidentally applied to be an informant, then?” Evie asked dryly.
“No.” Inor responded. “It was bad luck. I lost the raffle.”
That took Evie aback. Being an informant was safe, easy money. From what the Skonarians had told her, there was usually a surplus of applicants more than willing to betray their own kind in exchange.
“Why would your government opt for a raffle, instead of just having willing participants apply?”
Inor shrugged. “Very few Honrad were interested. They held the raffle to fill the empty slots.”
This conversation was raising way more questions than it was answering. At thais rate they would spend the rest of the day prying tidbits of information out of the reluctant Honrad. They didn’t have time for that. She caught Hat’s eye.
“Inor, excuse the assassin’s rudeness.” Hat said, switching back to his truly awful Quall. He jumped from the bowl and flew to the Honrad’s shoulder. She sat bolt upright as he landed, craning her neck to look at the pigeon with an almost terrified expression. “But can you blame her? She is understandably upset by what you tried to do.”
Inor hung her head. “I know my actions were wrong, and it is not my place to question, but…” her hands balled into fists. “I do not understand why we must do this. The Sniffers, in their incomprehensible wisdom, surely have their reasons, but taking part in this abhorrent practice goes against everything The Understanding represents.”
Hat squinted his eyes at Inor. “The Assassination Simulation is a tool, Inor. To help with conflict mediation. It’s important. Without it, The Understanding might not be maintainable- “
“That is true of the rest of those fools, not us,” Inor spat back, her words now fiery. “The Sniffers have presented them with paradise, and yet they cannot open their eyes enough to be content. Instead, they cling to the illusion of their own superiority by manufacturing meaning in the meaningless. The Skonarians on the planets they have sterilized, the Blimps surrounded by their artificial beauty. Both convinced that their cultures, their traditions still matter enough to quarrel over. The Honrad refuse to take part because we understand what a gift we have been given. We will not validate the empty posturing around us, and for that, we are despised. Dragged against our will into this competition so that others can play at asserting dominance. It’s infantile.”
Silence met Inor’s tirade. Evie, back to examining her fingernails and trying to look like she wasn’t hanging on every word, suppressed an eye roll. She had been on the cusp of feeling bad for Inor. It didn’t feel right that the Honrad was being forced to take part in the Sim, but her tirade destroyed any pity Evie might have had. Her words were dismissive and suffocatingly self-righteous, and they evangelized the Sniffers to an extent that made Evie uncomfortable.
“You have spoken your peace,” Hat said after a moment. His voice had cooled. “And you are right. It is not your place to question. Your understanding isn’t important. Your participation is. I should report you to the Sniffers for what you tried to pull today. If you continue to refuse to do your job, I will.”
Inor paled and looked pleadingly at Hat. “I understand, Monitor. But must I answer the questions that have no bearing on the Assignment? If I must assist this hired dog, I will, but allow me some dignity. I do not wish to fuel their mockery of my people more than necessary.”
“You will swallow your pride and answer the assassins’ questions. Is that understood, or not?” Hat’s voice cracked like a whip, and Inor flinched her face away from him. For a moment, she looked as if she wanted to argue further. But finally, she nodded, defeated.
With that, Hat jumped from Inor’s shoulder and flew back to the seed bowl. “Ask your questions, Evie,” he said in Common.
Evie was caught somewhat off-guard, her mind still seething with Inor’s words. She pulled out her tablet and scanned her notes, hoping the action would hide her preoccupation, and asking the first question that caught her eye. “What are the Skoruum?”
Inor looked mildly surprised at the question, and not at all pleased about having to respond. “They are individuals in a government run breeding program.”
“Eugenics?” Evie asked, taken aback. “Breeding for what?”
“The Sniffers’ intelligence is incomprehensible. We wish to comprehend it.”
“So they are breeding individuals with greater intelligence?”
“No. They are breeding individuals whose minds are unclouded by emotion, and who can see as the Sniffers do.”
Evie paused, unsure what to make of that.
“Why do they wear those ridiculous bedsheets?” Amelia asked. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s definitely an improvement.”
Inor’s eyes focused sourly on the umbrella. “So that none will be tempted by their beauty.”
Evie looked skeptically at the hunched, wrinkly creature before her. “You said you were breeding out emotion. Why would that make them more… uh… attractive?”
“It does not. All Honrad are beautiful, each in their own way. We are very carnal creatures, so it is necessary to keep the Skoruum hidden, lest their work be ruined by a sudden burst of passion.”
Between them, Hat choked on his seeds. Evie tried to keep her face neutral, but wasn’t entirely successful. Amelia burst out laughing before a quick glare from Evie and Hat cut her off. Inor glanced between them, expressionless.
Evie cleared her throat and asked the next question on her list. “I’ve been told some Honrad choose to end their lives after a few hundred years. Why would they do that?”
Inor abruptly rose to her feet. “My family will be returning soon. I will answer your other questions later. Now you must leave.”
Evie hesitated. The Honrad might be lying to get rid of them, but Evie didn’t want to risk being wrong and getting caught. Reluctantly, she grabbed her mask, stood, and followed Inor back out to the larger living room.
Inor led them to the back door, then paused. “Your clothing, wait here.” She hurried out of sight, leaving Evie, Hat, and Amelia alone.
As they waited in silence, Evie pondered the conversation with the Honrad. As much as she hated to admit it, they needed Inor and the information she could provide. The game cameras alone were worth everything that had happened today. Hat’s interference had earned the Honrad’s grudging participation for now, but individuals forced to do things against their will seldom stayed cooperative for long. She needed to give Inor a reason to help her. Or at the very least, a reason not to try and kill her.
After a minute, Inor returned and thrust Evie’s now dry jacket at her. Evie took it and put it on, careful not to knock Hat from her shoulder. She reached out a hand, and Amelia was there, opening above them to prepare for another trip through the downpour outside. Before they left, Evie turned to Inor for a final time.
“I’m sorry that you’re in the position you’re in,” she said in her fluent Quall. Inor’s eyes went wide, and she jerked back in surprise. “But for someone who speaks so passionately about being misunderstood, you are quick to judge others. I may be a ‘hired dog’, but you are wrong to jump to conclusions. Seeking to understand and seeking to disrespect are two very different things.”
And with that, she pressed her mask to her face, checked that the coast was clear, and strode out into the storm.