Kai

Tuesday, 1st of March, 199 A.C, 11:10

“There’s no day quite like New Year’s Day. I’ve heard that cities used to be much more diverse before — culturally, I mean. Well, New Year’s might be the one time we get a taste of what it was like back then. Everyone… *remembers* their background — religion, culture, even language — and hundreds of processions pop up all over, each mourning and celebrating in their own way.” - Excerpt from a Rubble Radio guest appearance by Jaqueline Hammerhead

The number of Bits I held in my hand had me flabbergasted. I had reckoned that people exaggerated the pay, but if anything I had underestimated my cut. This kind of money would get my sibs through the winter all on its own.

While I waited in the elevator, I hummed a little folk-tune from back home. I could recall just enough of the lyrics to remember it was a song about love and loss, about having to sacrifice the things you love to save the *people* you love. Classic Frontier fare — chipper despite the subject matter.

I wondered if I could cajole Jack and Sandy into singing with me later. Jack was too young for the more complicated songs, but Sandy could hold a tune and loved to prove it. She wouldn’t be home ‘till the evening though.

I was about 10 paces from our apartment when something took the wind right out of my sails. I could usually hear my family’s racket from the elevator, but today there wasn’t so much as a squeak coming from the walls.

There was something wrong with the door too. It was closed, but not quite sittin’ right on its hinges. I got closer and saw a deep gouge right through the frame where the deadbolt had ripped clean through.

I fingered my Veil, tucked away in my jacket pocket, and crept inside, the door whining as it swung limply open.

Whoever had broken in, they were gone now. Room was a mess though — and I mean *really* a mess, not just the usual clutter. Trash bags sat by the kitchen table where my siblings had done their best to clean up the broken dishes. The sparse furniture had gone to splinters, and the walls weren’t lookin’ much better either.

Headcount. Ten that I saw, plus five that would be out at this time of day. That made fifteen. One too few.

It was Garth that was missing, the oldest of the kids too young to work (he was, as he liked to say it with his hands splayed out and his nose stuck down next to it for an additional ‘finger’, ten-and-a-half).

I did what I could to console the little ones, and tried to pull some information out of them. It was Jack who eventually volunteered that some bad people had started breaking things and, when Garth stood up to them, they carried him screaming out the door.

He might still be alive, then. I was out of luck when it came to any of my siblings giving a proper description of the kidnappers, just that they were ‘big’ and ‘bad,’ but maybe they had left a clue somewhere.

I searched the main room from top to bottom. It was hard to find anything of note with the place in such a state, but worry and rage were good motivators.

I found what I was looking for buried in the remains of a couch cushion. It was a tiny gem that I mistook at first for being pitch black. Holding it up to the light though, it shone a deep purple. It reminded me of that crystal my squadmates had retrieved way back at the start of January, but smaller and unclouded, like the sediment had been removed from it.

I pocketed my new lead. I had to find out what these gems really were, and who would be carrying them around. And I had to do it fast.

Just one thing first. I inched into Ma’s room, rolling the Bit stick around on my palm. She’d been doing worse these past few days, and this time she didn’t even notice me enter. I didn’t think she was noticing much of anything, to tell the truth. Just staring at a corner of the ceiling where a spider was quietly tending to its web.

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“Got you something, Ma.” I held up the stick. No response.

“It’s a lot, Ma. It’ll keep that eviction notice off our door for a good while.” Still nothing.

I placed the stick on her bedside table and exhaled sharply.

“Ma, the kids need you. *I* need you.” Her eye twitched slightly as the spider jumped to a different part of the web.

“The place was trashed, Ma. Garth was *taken.* I can’t-” my breath caught as my voice started to raise. I started again, quiet enough to almost be talking to myself. “I can’t keep doing this.” Tears welled at the corners of my eyes. “It was a good thing we left Pa, but sometimes… sometimes I wonder whether we lost you somewhere along the way too.”

Her eye moved again, but this time it wasn’t to follow the spider. She was looking me straight in the eye, pupils like pinholes.

I bowed, slightly. “Food for thought, ma. Love you.”

Her eyes followed me as I ducked out of the room and wiped my eyes on my sleeve.

***

Trevor

The air was crisp and cool in my lungs. A dusting of snow had collected on the fleece I was wearing over my hoodie, and my boots crinkled against the salted sidewalk.

I was walking by one of the only patches of greenery (when it wasn’t winter, anyway) in this part of the city. All around me people were bustling to prepare bonfires, sing songs to mourn the dead and rejoice at the new year, or even just kvetch about how the city had gone to shit.

To my right was the sound of parents chatting on their way inside a church, and of their kids squabbling behind them. A family passed on me left, wearing simple, loose clothes and, for the women, head coverings. I spotted a few other such groups, all headed in the direction of a mosque a few blocks up.

I saw Sikhs too, making their way to the gurdwara, and Hindus to their temple. There were Buddhists and Shinto, and many more besides I didn’t recognize, or know the name of. It was the only day of the year you got to see people coming out in these numbers for religious services.

Is that why you’re out here?

I tried to distract myself. But what to think about? How about the bow? The bow! Yes, that was perfect.

As soon as Yumi was back on her feet, she had hobbled over with that bow in her hands, the one from that… Sagittarius, we were calling it. It had shrunk so that it was just about sized for human use, assuming it was the sort of thing a person could fire without turning out like Sarie.

You shouldn’t be so callous about your friend being hospitalized.

I cringed. I had been getting better at emptying my head when these waves of anxiety popped up, limiting the panic to a few seconds.

I tried to remember what I had been thinking about.

Ah, right.

The bow. Yumi had made a sly joke about it fitting my ‘aesthetic’ and then gifted it to me, just like that. We hung it up in my room at the safehouse and promised to test it out once she had recovered. It was definitely a nice cherry on top of the official payment from the government.

“Is that– HEY! ASHER!” A woman’s voice derailed my train of thought. I hadn’t heard anyone call me by that name in a year. I glanced over and, registering who it was after five seconds, looked down and redoubled my pace.

“Don’t you go ignoring me like I’m some yutz!”

Nope nope nope nope nope this was a horrible idea why did I come here

She was running now, her trajectory carefully calculated to cut me off. I decided that the self-debasement of running from a middle-aged rabbi would be worse than having to deal with her.

My joints felt like stone as I swiveled around and greeted her with a plastered smile. “Rabbi Asa! How long has it been?”

“Oh, cut the crap, Asher!” Her face, framed by fluffy, chin-length hair, was ever so slightly flushed with the first of the day’s libations. “You can say that you’ve been avoiding us. This past year must have been hard on you.”

“Well, I just, you know,” I stammered. “I, um… I just haven’t quite gotten over it.”

Rabbi Asa grabbed my hand. “That’s the idea, dumkop.” She pointed towards a group of semi-familiar faces, all singing a song whose lyrics I knew but did not understand. “Come, we’re just getting started.”

I felt some part of me, just under the skin, crack. She pulled gently and I followed, letting her lead me onwards.

“I’m sure someone has a spare kippah for you,” she was saying. “I think it would do you good to stay for Kaddish.”

Kaddish… A lump formed in my throat. The eleven months of mourning had come and gone and I hadn’t said Kaddish for my parents even once.

Rabbi Asa sensed what I was thinking. “It’s the anniversary, isn’t it? A fine time to begin.”