James’s heart raced. He didn’t know what he was doing; he just knew he had to get out of that house, away from Den. And Evan.
Another chill ran through him when he considered the little Voarn and his missing sword. James hated himself for what he was doing, but didn’t think he could do anything else right then. He hadn’t realised he’d connected with Evan so much in such a short time, but there really was nothing he could do for him.
Evan was that old man’s problem now. That strange commanding old man who revealed a lifetime of information. But whose lifetime? Just because a stranger spoke of many things didn’t mean any of them had to be true. But then, everyone was a stranger to James. He would have no idea if someone who said they knew him was telling the truth or not.
This moment was one of those instances where James felt truly alone in the world.
Who could he run to? Who did he know he could trust? He wasn’t even sure if Tam counted anymore. The endless stream of images and questions threatened to overwhelm him as he jogged aimlessly through the housing neighbourhood.
He lost his footing and tumbled to the ground. One palm scraped the hot gravel when he braced himself. He instantly snatched his hand away and was drawn back into that horrific, fiery vision. The dead land spread out all around him once again; the fire streaming through the sky, the stench of death and decay attacking his senses.
The streets of Tyken Town still showed through the hazy memory around him, including the puzzled faces of some onlookers, but he could swear the heat of that awful world was on him again, threatening to burn him from the inside. When he lifted his head, he saw it again, a shadow of a memory, the terrifying hooded figure. The cowl encompassed the entire sky. James cried out a tortured moan, though he wasn’t sure if the sound came out.
He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to block out the terrible world, and when he blinked again, the reality of Tyken Town had returned. More people came to a stop now and stared at him on his knees in the street, drenched in sweat.
What was happening to him?
He managed to get himself under control as he rose up on weak legs, wiping a hand over the waterfall of his brow, and ignored the a few lingering looks. James pulled his mind back to his world, and now thought of his work, and Tam. He wanted nothing more than to get back to his life; to hide in routine. There was nothing else for it. He would put the madness of the day behind him, as best he could.
A part of him was relieved to be free of Evan, knowing that Den Keenosh would take care of him now. Better care than James would have been able to give him.
Time to get back to his life.
He thought of calling Tam on his sat-com, to let him know he was coming back to work—wanting to hear his voice—but he couldn’t help but wonder if Tam knew about the contents of the package. Had Tam been conspiring with Den to send him to his house today?
James’s insides tightened. No, it couldn’t be true, he knew it. Tam was Tam, and that was it. When he was back on site, he’d tell Tam what had happened at the delivery address, and Tam would help him figure things out. He would know what to do.
Two patrolling Lawmen with rifles slung across their sides passed him on the street. James watched them closely, steadying his breathing, and waited for any signs that they were there for him. The dead beggar’s cold eyes flashed in his mind again, and he shuddered at the thought. He waited for any suspicious looks or sudden movements, ready to break into a sprint. For all he knew, the whole town could be in on whatever Den had been implying. While the Lawmen were lightly armoured, with bandoliers connected to shoulder pads over their loose desert shirts, it was their bulky gloves that gave James the most unease. He knew the gloves contained the Trigger Switches that allowed them to fire their weapons.
A tingling sensation came over him as he crossed the street; the shifting wind somehow felt different. Looking up, he saw a dark spot passing over the sky. The spreader’s job was to release a cold vapour as it flew around the city, spreading into the atmosphere and mixing with the air in Tyken Town, which helped to reduce the scorching desert heat.
Normally the cold vapour wasn’t noticeable, so James wondered if the sensation was caused by something else. Perhaps it was the city’s way of telling him he didn’t belong there. Now it knew he was really an outsider.
He now saw his presence in town in a completely new light. There was a reason why he sometimes had such a hard time with the heat and the air. He’d grown up on another planet; he was sure of it. He wished he’d asked more questions.
Perhaps he even had siblings. Why didn’t he ask about a brother or sister? But at least he knew he had parents. Maybe still had them, somewhere.
Hayden and Sen Island. How could someone’s own parents be so unfamiliar to them?
He rubbed his eyes with the balls of his palms, blinking away the white spots that dotted his view after.
Island. That was his surname. Den had said so. That meant that James did know his own name. It wasn’t just a name somehow stuck in his head and belonged to someone else, as he’d sometimes wondered. So, he knew his name was James Island, and that counted as a memory. Actual previous knowledge of himself. He took comfort in that, at least.
Strength had returned to his legs now and the idea of getting back to work, even to a hot-tempered Tam, felt good to him. He pushed the thoughts of Evan and Den out of his mind, and the madness attributed to them, but he couldn’t help but picture their reactions on finding him gone. What must they think of him?
So much for their hero.
A motorised cart passed in front of him, shifting his focus. Driven by a fat Sebscillion whose oily pink skin glistened in the sun, the contents of the shuddering cart were covered by a canvas tied down with ropes. The multi-faceted bumps and ridges of the thick fabric gave the impression the Seb was transporting a small mountain range; like a god shifting a world.
The gods. What were they, anyway, but an archaic superstition found in stories and suspect history books? Much like I thought magic was.
Evan certainly seemed empowered by a god, more so than anyone else James had met in town. The Canarrians had their gods and holy spirits, such as the Great Hyne, who they held responsible for the planet and their people. Although James had read in a history book that there were three gods who created the planet: Hyne, Ral’ta, and… he couldn’t remember the third one right then. When he’d brought this up with Tam once, the stout Canthian merely scoffed at the thought of any gods other than Hyne.
Another name often mentioned was Doda Daiden, who was meant to be a spiritual being from legend. The Canarrians had many legends, and some involved great warriors and war heroes; like James’s father had been described…
He realised his name was being called. Turning, James found himself staring into a familiar face.
“Well if it ain’t the travelling traveller.” Sam Hawkings flashed a smile. He must have noticed the bemused look on James’s face. “Or is it the wandering wanderer? How’s it going?”
“Tiring.” A dull moment passed with James adjusting to the fact he was standing in the street talking with his colleague. What disturbed him the most was just how strange this occurrence felt. “What brought you out here?”
“Oh, you know, busy people being busy. I’m glad I managed to find you actually.”
“You were looking for me?”
“S’right. Been sent by Tam the Man. Got a job for us.”
“That right?” James recalled his last talk with his boss. “I thought Tam wanted me back at Belam after I made the delivery?”
“Now that was the plan from the man named Tam, until we got the call from Captain Down. Seems their Kio-2 is down and they can’t get their junk back online. I’m on my way there now to reconfigure the network on their end, and Marshal’s asked for another body to cover a shift for the afternoon. Tam’s picked you for the cover.”
“I missed a lot, didn’t I?” James said. “You can fix the servers?”
“Well I should think so, I configured the new build at Belam. Should be a simple fix, probably just some decompression required. Unless it’s a hardware issue, in which case it’s gonna get messy, and make it a two-man job. You’re familiar with the K-2.10 build? Blue River. Tam tells me you’ve worked on one before.”
“Yeah I put one back together with Waterman a while back. Was a messy job. And I’m now seeing why Tam’s asked for me to tag along.”
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Sam nodded, shifting his position to let two tall Bahms stride by, their bulky scaled arms taking up most of the room on the side path. “Which puts us back to five minutes ago. So, what say we head off before we lose sunlight?”
James agreed, glad to be back to work. Things could start being normal again.
The number of people on the streets had grown since the last time James had noticed. A street merchant was hanging a blue lantern—which seemed to be made from some kind of thin wire—to a hovering street light. James saw that a lantern was hanging from each of the hover lamps that ran down the street, and absent-mindedly wondered if he’d seen such lanterns earlier.
He and Sam climbed the steps to the shuttle pod station, joining the few people gathered there. The station itself was on a raised platform held up by stanchions lining the main street below.
Sam wore his red sleeveless work jacket over a dusty shirt, which looked more grey than its original white. His short black hair ruffled in the wind as they waited, the longer front spilling onto his forehead. James had noted out faint dark lines often outlined his brown eyes, like they did now. There was an accented lilt to his speech, which James had yet to hear from anyone else in town so far. Sam did mention the planet he was from once, but James had since forgotten, though he remembered it sounded remote, perhaps in the Outer Reach. He often wondered if the level of comfort he found with Sam was because he was also a human like himself, and not one of the local species who spoke in broken Standard and had different ways of looking at life.
James’s throat caught when he thought of himself as a human. He was an… an Oneron, apparently. But was he still human?
It took him a moment to realise Sam was speaking.
“You with me, Isles?”
“What’s that?”
Sam shrugged. “Just being nosy, is all. I was asking how things were going with you.”
James nodded, giving himself a moment to think of a normal answer. “Yeah, going good, y’know. I got the X-S exam coming up next season, so I’ll know how to handle the knew machines.”
“Good for you. The X-S will do you good. Gotta make sure you’re making the most of your time with Rimas.”
With a low rumble, like a thunderstorm brewing far away, the shuttle pod made its approach. Pockets of steam escaped from the dusty tube’s air vents as it came to a stop. Its original shine and impressiveness had all but faded, like so many things in Tyken Town. Automatic doors opened with a strained mechanical shudder.
“That’s what I like to see, Isles,” Sam said as they boarded. “A man taking control of his own future.”
Seating platforms were laid out along the walls of the tube and in rows of two near the front and back, divided by a central aisle. Large screen windows, dusty and grimy from the oppressive desert wind, gave a smeared view of the surrounding city. They found two seats by the window after two elderly bo’Breihs alighted.
James guessed that Sam was about the same age as him, or perhaps a little older. However, it was hard to even determine how old James himself was. Of all the things to not know, it was troubling to not know his own age. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been as big an issue for James if he didn’t know how important it was for people to know their own age. He’d come to determine the importance of things based on other people’s perceptions of them, not having any basis of relevance for them himself. Judging by other humans’ appearances and ages, James guessed he was in his mid-to-late-twenties. He couldn’t use the Canarrians as a basis as they lived for over two hundred years, whereas he’d read that the average human life was closer to one hundred.
“So tell me, Isles, you got a woman?” Sam asked, turning from the window to him.
“Not exactly.” James thought about Annabel.
“What’s that mean exactly then?”
“I’ve been spending some time with a girl recently. But I couldn’t tell you how it was going.”
“Well Medd’s Balls, Isles, if you couldn’t then who could?”
James tilted his head in mock consideration. “Wish I knew. Well, now, she’s a weird one.” He shifted his position to better face Sam. “At least that’s what I tell myself. When we’re together, it’s good, y’know. But other times, like, it’s as though she don’t even know me.”
“Sounds like you got yourself a hot and cold case, there. Where’d you meet her?”
“She works in the Togg’s Tale.”
“Ah now see that’s what you get with a tavern girl.” Sam nudged him playfully. “Who knows how many guys she got propositioning her on a daily basis. You can’t trust a girl like that too much, you know?”
“Well she ain’t like that, this one. It’s just… like the other day.” The ease of talking to Sam wasn’t lost on James; he welcomed the honest conversation. “I linked her to arrange a meet up, and she spoke to me like she didn’t know who I was. You know how you talk to someone who knows you, but you can’t quite place where you know them from, so you keep ‘em talking until you remember? It was like that. She didn’t wanna meet up or even talk to me for long. And then the next day I went to the tavern to see her and she gave me a big hug like she hadn’t heard from me in days.”
Sam was looking out the window again. “Sounds like a tricky one. I’m sorry to hear that. I tell you what though.” He turned to James with tension in his eyes. “If she’s as special as you say she is, then I wouldn’t give up on her. You just gotta figure out if she’s worth it. Then after that, it’ll all fall into place.”
James thought there was a sorrowful tone to Sam’s words, and wondered if there was more to them.
“A part of me thinks that she just doesn’t feel anything for me, but isn’t sure how to tell me.” James took a second to realise he’d just opened up to Sam in a way he never had with Tam. Now he’d started, he was surprised at how comfortable he was continuing. “I mean, how do you say you’re not interested in them, after you’ve spent some time with them.”
“I’ve heard a few ways,” Sam said, shrugging. “Generally, you can simply say that there’s no spark between you. Or you can give the ‘we’re better as friends’ speech.”
“That’s right. You can’t give any actual specific reasons, can you? You can’t tell someone they talk too much for your liking, or they’re too short for you.”
“See now one of those examples can lead to self-improvement,” Sam began, “and one is beyond our control. Telling someone they’re not compatible with you due to a physical issue they can’t change isn’t gonna help anything. But giving them something constructive, like talking too much or not listening enough, can be to their benefit. Something they can be aware of for their next relationship. But see here, Isles, I don’t believe in giving any specifics with anyone. What might not suit you could be just what someone else likes. You could think you’re helping them by telling them they laugh too loud or they’re too shy, but then they could subconsciously seek to change that and thus not be so desirable to a person who they were otherwise perfect for.”
James thought on that. “I suppose you’re right. I guess when we meet someone who’s right for us, we’re meant to just know. Right?”
Sam gave a definitive nod. “That’s the way to see it. Even if that may well be a load of Medd’s Spit,” he added with a crooked smile.
James reflexively smiled back. “What about you Sam?”
“Me, Isles? I’m a free bird. A wolf pack of one. A lone gunman. My tune plays for one.”
“I take that to mean you ain’t seeing anyone, then?”
“S’right.”
“That mean you got no one special in your life?”
“Ho now, that’s a different game of Grime, now, ain’t it. With these dimples? I’ve had my share. Now not having anyone special in my life? That’s a matter of perspective ain’t it?”
“And what’s your perspective?” James asked. He wasn’t sure, but he thought Sam’s composure that stiffened somewhat.
“Well, from where I’m standing it don’t really matter too much.”
“Would I know her?”
Sam grinned; a coyness that didn’t reach his eyes. “I wouldn’t bet on it, kiddo. No, the one I’d think of is long gone, and far away from this rock.”
“From where you’re from?”
Sam nodded.
“Where is that again?”
“A little brown spot called Triark. Farming country.”
“You were a famer?”
“Aye. Crops, sowing, dusting, the whole tea party.”
“That explains your accent.”
Sam regarded him; his face impassive.
“Or lack of local accent,” James added, feeling uncomfortable with the look.
James felt it best not to prod further. He found it difficult to judge how much he was allowed to ask someone of their personal life when he didn’t know the person or their boundaries. There was also the risk of them asking him personal questions in return.
He thought about going to the Togg’s Tale tomorrow to see Annabel, and see if he could get a better read on her. Then his thoughts shifted to Evan and Den, which brought back that twisted feeling in his stomach and made his head hot.
Thinking of how Evan had found him all the way on that mountaintop brought a question to James. “What brought you to Tyken Town, Sam?”
Sam looked sidelong at him. “What makes you think anything brought me here?”
“Well something always takes someone somewhere.”
“Aye, I suppose that’s true. You know, Isles, a person can do a lot with their life.” Sam’s voice took on a sombre quality. “Some good, some bad. You can’t help the bad times; they happen to us all. But what counts, what really makes a person, is what they do afterward. How they cope with the bad times and manage to overcome them and end up a true person despite it all.”
It was refreshing for James to consider someone else’s problems, after having spent so much time with his own. “A true person?”
Sam nodded. “That’s what my father called it. The true you. Whether it’s good or bad, the best thing a person can do is figure out who their true self is, and be that.”
James looked away in thought.
“You know of Nephagaroi Elms?” Sam asked.
“The philosopher?” James thought back to one of philosophy books he’d read.
“That’s right. That’s good. Right, the philosopher. He said that when a terrible event occurs, there’s another life out there where the outcome was a good one. An alternate reality, where your bad mistake never happened. But at the same time, a good event here would be a bad one in another reality. So, tell me, James, does that make our reality the better one or the worse one?”
James took a moment to word his answer. “Way I figure it—is that life is what you make of it. All the good and bad that led up to the present is the right way. For better or worse, it’s what’s supposed to happen. And whether you like it or not, it’s the right way.”
Sam grinned at him, clearly impressed. “I think I like that, Isles. Not bad.”
The further away from the city centre they travelled, the hotter and thicker the atmosphere became, reminding James that he was, in fact, in a desert. Indoor cooling units and spreaders across the sky usually did a good job of keeping people in a comfortable state, although the atmosphere had always been different around the edges of town. It was as if some magical force kept out the harsh desert heat, whose power lessened around the city border. Or perhaps whatever wizard or god held the spell over the city simply didn’t care for the comfort of the border folk.
James looked over the sparse buildings in the vicinity, trying to make sense of his situation now that he had a chance to think. He couldn’t remember if Captain Down had a Rimas site, but then they had so many sites around the city, and more popping up every season.
When the shuttle stopped at their station, the doors opened and let in a dusty hot air that surprised James with its suffocating thickness. He’d never been to Captain Down, a borough of the northern industrial district of High Mark, which was notoriously known as ‘the abandoned district’. He knew the area had been forgotten by city officials for years now, having proved too costly to restore after having fallen into disrepute, and was now a sparse neglected borough. James wondered how the district’s Judge could let the area fall into such disarray when so many other Judges often spoke of their intentions of running a perfectly functioning district.
“Here we are,” Sam said, rising first.
James followed him out, finding the dull browns and yellows of the run-down area a great contrast to the city centre. An uneasy feeling returned to him, though this time for a different reason.