Memento Mori, Chapter 24

[keaalu]

     A particularly noisy herd of hooting deer passing under her window roused Halli from an uncomfortable half-doze some time just before the sunrise. She glared resentfully down at them – as if her rest hadn’t been fragmented enough already, the roosting animals had to prod her out of the only good sleep she’d got so far. Arching her back and yawning, she reached out and stretched first her forelegs then the hind ones, trying to work out a little of the heaviness of sleep, hoping maybe she’d feel less heavy and irritable if she felt more awake.

     No such luck. Her stomach growled quietly in hungry sympathy, her animal side insisting that she jump down and chase the limping little one at the rear of the herd – good breakfast Halli, kill it, eat it! – but she sat on the urge. Just because she could climb down didn’t mean she could climb back up, and their position was already precarious without her abandoning her sick friend for the sake of her belly. Instead, she muttered sullenly under her breath and flicked a tongue around her beak, watching them amble up the street, turning into strange, crooning ghosts as they passed deeper into the muffling blanket of pale mist.

     She folded her paws under her chin with a sigh, reminding her stomach that if she was that hungry, there was always that stale half-sandwich she’d dissected last night. And at least the rain had stopped. And if the heavy snoring in the background was anything to go by, Rae had slept well, too. Hopefully he’d wake up feeling better than he had yesterday.

     She wondered if the same could have been said for Blink? Trapped in enemy territory, in god-only-knows what sort of condition, probably brutalised and certainly starving? Halli shifted uneasily on the spot, unable to get comfortable, trying not to think too hard about it. If she didn’t think about it – and the passing breakfasts were looking more like the better option by the minute – she might be able to keep a reasonable rein on her self-control.

     Being better able to look after the ill spur hadn’t been the only reason she’d changed shape, after all – her primitive, beaky animal-form made it very difficult for other people to intuit her emotions, and she was first and foremost a very private person, even more so than most other zaar. Unlike a lot of the laima residents, she didn’t like everyone knowing what was going on in her head at any given time! As a result, she’d made something of a name for herself at the Library for being abrupt, and rather distant.

     And of course, Blink managed to succeed in prodding unfamiliar emotions out of her. Halli couldn’t – wouldn’t – deny that she liked her, and not just because they shared a common interest in engineering (...although it did make a pleasant little bonus). Even if one ignored her supposed origins, the strange little fessine was pleasantly un-laima in her behaviour, sweet-natured, gentle and inoffensive. Halli could, however, very happily deny that there was anything more to it, in spite of the way it made her crop feel like it was full of bubbles. After the loss of her own family, all those years ago, she’d made it a personal policy to not get involved with anyone else. So “like” was just that. Just “like”. Friends.

     Halli fidgeted her forepaws, shifting and refolding them under her chin. I hope she’ll be all right. If he’s done anything to hurt her, I’ll-... I’ll...

     What, Halli? Attack a monster that’s twice your height and four times your mass?

     She heaved a soft sigh. At least I’ll buy her some time to run.

     Out of the corner of her eye, a flicker of white mostly hidden in the mist caught her attention. At last, she lifted her head off her folded forepaws and squinted into the mist. What was that? She cursed quietly to herself – she might have a better nose and better hearing, like this, but her vision was infinitely better when not shifted.

     Could just be one of the native predators, she reasoned, watching the sleek pale ghost slip through the fog, following the same herd of breakfasts that she herself had been watching... but deep down, she knew it wasn’t. Native predators were rarely such a pure white, because dinner had a tendency to spot them.

     No, her experienced eye recognised the shape. A slinking, primitive lamonis, out where he shouldn’t be. She tightened her jaw, not sure if she felt more annoyed or worried. Did she dare jump down? Chase him, challenge him, what are you doing out here, sneaking around, following us? Or should she go and disturb Rae, prod him awake just so she could go chase barely-seen shadows through the mist? She paddled her forefeet against the edge of the window, agitatedly.

     The ghost made the decision for her. With every second that passed, he grew more and more indistinct, and finally vanished altogether in the swirling curtains of white cloud.

* * * * *
     Tevak emerged from a cosy pile of wives in the master bedroom to a morning of glorious sunshine, a good breakfast and an optimistic mood... but the day didn’t stay upbeat for very long. According to skittish Liega, who’d gone down to the basement to give the prisoner a drink, Blink’s health had taken a bit of a nosedive. Fantastic.

     As soon as he’d got his temper under control, and stopped cursing, the giant headed down into the cellar to see for himself how bad she was. It took every ounce of self-control not to give Metu a punch in the chops, the way he stood watching with a told-you-so smirk clear on his long face; their medic would have been halfway tolerable if not for how smug he was.

     Truth be told, it wasn’t actually the first time Tevak had been having second thoughts about all this; he’d not expected the brat to be quite so resistant! He still wasn’t quite sure how she managed it. All the other fessine had known their place, and sure, they’d whined a bit, he’d expected that, but they quickly settled in after that without any major complaint. A night in the upstairs cupboard was the maximum it took, for most.

     By contrast, this skinny little scrap of flesh seemed to have a core of iron running right through her – he couldn’t help wondering where she’d lived before landing on this godforsaken dirtball, to make her behaviour so aberrant, because in all his life, he’d never met such a disobedient, rebellious fessine. So she might look like a frightened little adolescent, and whine a whole lot more than could be healthy, she was tough as old leather underneath.

     Correction. Had been tough as old leather – right now, she looked more like old parchment, discoloured and brittle. Lean on her much harder, and she’d disintegrate into a thousand pieces. Tevak propped himself on the doorframe and sighed, pinched the brow of his nose. The decision he was trying to avoid having to make snapped around his ankles, annoying and impossible to shake off. Did he remove her, and risk her trying to run for it again, or leave her down here and risk her dying? He almost suspected she was doing it on purpose, to force his hand, except why would someone so keen to escape let herself get sick?

     Entering the cupboard, a scent caught his nose. Tevak flared his nostrils, sniffing thoughtfully; one of the vuls had been down here again – and without permission, again. The scent wasn’t strong enough to identify its owner, other than it was male, but he strongly suspected it had been that skinny, useless, dithery one. Just what he wanted; another problem he was gonna have to deal with when he went back upstairs.

     One problem at a time, he reminded himself. This was the more important one, right now.

     “Hey, Blink. Wakey wakey.” He crouched near to her. “I brought you a drink. You gonna wake up for me?”

     Blink barely responded to his presence; she looked feverish, wracked with the shivers. Her eyelids flickered and she shifted on the spot, uselessly flexing her fingers, but quickly went still again.

     “Hey. You in there? I said wake up.” Tevak gave her an optimistic poke in the arm, hoping she was just drowsy, and found skin that felt quite hot to the touch. So, Metu was right; she was running a fever. Great.

     Tevak sighed, and glanced down at the package of grey-orange capsules in his hand, hoping they’d do the trick – Metu said that because she wouldn’t stop damn well struggling, and had rubbed her wrists raw, she’d probably developed an infection in the damaged skin, which had begun to spread to her blood. They had to nip it in the bud, if possible, before she went developed full-blown septicaemia.

     He cupped his hand under her chin, and turned her head so she had no choice but to look at him. “Blink. Wake up,” he instructed, sternly.

     She stared at him for so long, her strange blue eyes glazed and unfocussed, that he began to think something was seriously wrong – more wrong than even Metu thought – but at last she came round enough to respond to him.

     “...goaway.”

     Tevak sighed and released her head. Really shouldn’t have been surprised by that. “Heard you’re not doing so well, so I got some medicine for you.” He pressed on the back of the clear bubbles, popping the capsules out in his palm. They were past their use-by date, but only by a couple of years, and Metu reckoned they should still work all right. Provided he could get ’em into her.

     “Don’t want it. You’re not gonna... drug me into agreement.”

     Tevak quirked a brow. “...it’s antibiotics. For your wrists?”

     “So you say. Not interested.”

     “Look, either you take ’em, or I make you take ’em.”

     “Just have to make me then, won’t you.”

     “...why is it so hard for you to take the easy route?” Tevak sighed and cupped her head, one massive hand curling under her jaw, pinching her cheeks just hard enough to get her to open her lips, then poked the capsules right into the back of her mouth. She squirmed, trying ineffectually to bite him, but the pinching fingers stopped her closing her mouth until he’d extracted the threatened digits.

     “Now swallow,” he coaxed, through gritted teeth, holding her jaw closed.

     Blink shook her head, stubbornly. These could contain anything! But the capsules took only a few seconds to begin to melt and disintegrate in her mouth, shedding acrid tasting medication that made her retch, and at last she had no option except to swallow.

     The second he felt her throat move, Tevak released her jaw. “See, wouldn’t that have been easier?”

     Blink gulped at the proffered cup of water to rinse the awful taste from her mouth, then coughed feebly and sagged sideways into the wall. “How much longer are you going to keep this up?” she groaned. “You know we’re never going to be happy. I’ll always resist you. You’ll always be frustrated. How is this ever going to be worth it...?”

     “I already told you, and it all depends on you.” He rinsed her hands, slowly, allowing the last of the cold water to run over her aching wrists. “You can come out of the basement, as soon as you promise not to leg it again.”

     Blink watched as the water caught glints of light from Tevak’s lantern; the soothing cold felt delicious. “...don’t make me promise something I can’t keep.”

     “So why should I let you out? Come on, Blink. You’re a savvy wee thing, you know I’m not gonna let you jump ship on me, so why’d you need to keep on torturing yerself like this? How will it look to the outside world if I just let you go, huh?

     “Like you’re a kind, humane individual, who values the worth of other people?” Blink suggested, hopefully.

     Tevak smiled, thinly, and lowered his voice, speaking softly right up close to her ear. “It’ll look like I’m a weakling who can’t even control his own wife, that’s what.” He set the empty cup into the pitcher, and sat back on his heels. “It may surprise you to hear that I don’t want you to die down here. I just want you to behave. To act like a proper fessine, you know? Someone worth fighting to keep hold of, who other people would kill to be seen with.”

     “...I’m not a possession.” Until coming here, I used to think I already was worth something. Blink studied her inflamed wrists, and twitched her fingers, sadly. May have been wrong about that, too.

     Tevak caught the motion. “They must be so sore,” he murmured, softly, running his fingers tenderly over the ribbons. “Think how good you’ll feel when we release you.”

     Blink flinched back, awkwardly, fists clenching; the light touch felt like electric current running through her arms, but the thought of being released – and being denied it – was the greater torment. “Please don’t.”

     “All you have to do is behave for me, and I promise, we’ll give you the best medical care we’ve got for your poor wrists. Antiseptics. Painkillers. Somewhere nice and cosy to sleep...”

     “Don’t touch me!” At last, Blink bared her teeth at him, frustrated.

     Thankfully, Tevak just sneered and backed off. “I’ll be back with yer next dose soon.” He pushed himself back to his feet, giving her a chastising flick on the ear. “Think about the offer, huh? Might be your last chance to walk out of here as a free woman.”

     Blink groaned something he didn’t catch, but he didn’t feel inclined to get her to repeat it. It’d only be more of the same whiney demands-

     Tevak turned out through the doorway and almost walked smack into Zinovy. “What are you doing down here?” he growled, trying unsuccessfully to hide the way he’d leapt back almost a full yard, his crest flaring up into an alarmed halo.

     Zinovy didn’t so much as bat an eyelid. “I found some old handcuffs which still got the keys with ’em,” the nyen explained, holding one up by way of demonstration; two metal loops that ratcheted closed, joined by a stout length of heavy-density flexible polymer.

     “And... your point? You had to come down here to tell me that?”

     Zinovy shot a furtive glance at Blink’s doorway – suddenly it made sense, it was for her benefit that he’d come down here. That would explain the theatrically-loud voice, too. “Well, see, I figured since we haven’t been able to find any padlocks, yet, we can use these instead. We just loop two sets together, like so?” The nyen demonstrated with his hands, pinching the thumb and finger of both hands together, making two interlocking loops. “And we’ve got a buckle. The other end goes through the loops in the chain. Once she’s in the collar, and it’s locked, that’s it.” He smiled, optimistically. “She’s got free run of the place, as far as the chain lets her go, but actually escaping is off the menu.”

     Tevak folded his arms and lifted his chin. “An’ how much longer is all this gonna take?”

     “We got all the supplies, now, we just gotta secure the plate in the ceiling. No point in collaring her if there’s nothing to attach it to, right? Haha.”

     “Nice non-answer there, Zin. I’m gonna assume it’ll take days, right?”

     “Aw, c’mon, boss. Drilling through artificial rock takes time!” Zinovy protested, showing his teeth; his mane of tentacles all curled upwards, aggressively. “’Specially when yer doing it by hand, in the ceiling.”

     “I didn’t ask for excuses about why you couldn’t do it, I asked how long it was gonna take you and yer merry band of incompetents to finish the job.”

     “I-... well, I don’t know, do I?” The hart spread his hands. “I hope not too long, but that’s so long as the bit don’t break on the drill, an’ the filler round the bolts sets properly.”

     “Well you better hurry up, because she needs to be out of here as soon as possible, before she gets full-on blood poisoning.” Tevak gestured at the cupboard with the flat of his hand. “I’m taking her out of here tomorrow at the latest, so you got until tomorrow morning to finish.”

     “Whoa, hey, boss-...! No fair, that’s like... less than a day! I’m never gonna manage that-!”

     Tevak leaned down close to his face. “Then you better make the most of the time you do have, right? Or you’re gonna be doing a lot of babysitting. So quit gabbing, and sling it!”

     Zinovy lashed his tail, vexed. “Wouldn’t kill yer to say ‘thanks’ every once in a while, you know?” His angry hoofbeats echoed down the hallways, still audible even after he’d long disappeared from view up the stairs.

     Under his breath, Tevak muttered something unwholesome that summed up his opinion of his would-be second-in-command, and followed him upstairs at a more leisurely pace. The nyen seriously needed putting in his place – a good kick or two ought to do it.

     ...and who should be ambling past when Tevak reached the top of the stairs but a certain suspicious russet-furred individual. Tevak seized the opportunity; flashed out a hand and caught his arm. “And what were you doing down in the basement?”

     Sett cringed back, ears flattening, tail tucking between his legs, helpfully incriminating himself. “I-I nothing, j-just seeing if she needed the latrine,” he blurted. “I didn’t know if anyone else had and she’s been d-down there for days-!” He pulled back, but his scrawny arm might as well have been encircled by a steel vice. “You haven’t given her much to drink, and n-nothing to eat – you’re going to kill her.”

     Tevak didn’t seem impressed, but didn’t outwardly say anything to that effect. “So long as that’s all it was.”

     The massive fist released its grip. Sett scuttled just out of reach before boldly calling the giant’s bluff; “no offence, but what would I have been doing, anyway?”

     Tevak stomped a single step closer, and the vul fled. “Watch your manners!” he bellowed after the departing tail.

     Going to have to keep a much closer eye on that one.

* * * * *
     Down in the vegetable patch that had once been ornamental flower beds in front of the library, Sarmis put his fork to one side, wiped his brow, and admired his handiwork. As well as being a good physical workout, the uncomplicated chore of digging out all the spindly, unharvested remains of the early summer crop and preparing the soil for a fresh sowing helped clear his mind. Concern for the missing pair meant he’d not slept brilliantly, but a good morning of solid graft would hopefully exhaust him enough to get him a good night’s sleep.

     The white spur had always enjoyed simple tasks like gardening – as a youngster, fresh from college and straight into the police, his small square vegetable patch in his parents’ garden had saved his sanity more than once. Digging over a small patch like this helped take his mind of other troubling things, and there’d sure been plenty of them in his life lately.

     “Sam?” a hoarse voice barked, from the other side of the fence, making him jump.

     “Halli?” Relieved, Sarmis leaned into the fence, lacing his fingers through the wire. “Skeida, you had us worried! Where have you been, is Rae with you?”

     “Just foraging. Rae took sick,” she explained, gruffly, trotting along the fence towards the Library entrance and forcing Sarmis into a lope to keep up. “Spent night in shop.”

     “Is he with you now?” He peered up ahead, hoping Rae was the dark blob in the distance.

     “Yap, waiting by bridge.”

     Sarmis scrambled up the drainpipe, swinging himself to the ledge to unhook the bridge chain. “Greets, Rae!” he called, cheerfully, hoping to bolster the other spur’s mood. “Hear you’re not doing so good?”

     Rae forced an answering smile, but his dark skin looked weirdly ashen, in the midday sunshine, his eyes painfully sunken and bloodshot. “You could say that.”

     “You gonna be able to climb the bridge yourself, or do you need a hand?”

     “I’ll be all right, I think.” On hands and knees for security, with Halli following close behind, Rae began the slow climb of the bridge. “You just better have a block and tackle ready for when I fall off between the fences.”

     In spite of his pessimistic humour and a couple of minor wobbles, the only real hairy moment came when Rae reached the ‘safe’ side of the bridge, and had to turn around in the sorely limited space so he could get down the ramp, understandably unwilling to climb down face-first. The second his feet touched the ground, his friends swooped in to help; Aspazija put herself under Rae’s arm to prop him up, while Sarmis supported from the other side.

     Odati stood at the top of the flight of stairs leading to the main door, to watch the little group come around the corner. “Welcome back,” she greeted, flatly, arms folded and tailtip waving slowly, making it abundantly clear that actually being welcoming was far from her mind. Irritation seemed to ooze from every pore. “I trust you’ve had a productive outing.”

     Halli’s long face remained as inscrutable as ever; Rae laughed uneasily, but didn’t say anything else.

     Unimpressed, Odati stayed right where she was as they approached, in the middle of the stairs, forcing them to go around her. She put out a hand, and caught Sarmis as he passed. “Sam. A word in your ear?”

     The laima smiled, amiably. “Of course.” He ducked out from under Rae’s arm and let Aspazija go on without him. “I’ll catch you guys up in a moment, a’right?”

     The steel in the old vulline’s eyes didn’t match the pale spur’s genial expression. Her gnarled fingers maintained a surprisingly strong hold on his upper arm. “I want you to keep a close eye on him,” she instructed, the instant the group had moved out of earshot.

     “On... sorry, what? On Rae?” Sarmis faltered, confused. “Why? The guy’s sick. What’s he possibly gonna get up to?”

     Odati’s lips pulled back in an annoyed smile that showed her teeth. “Oh come on. Do you seriously think they were just ‘out foraging’? They sneaked out early purely so they could avoid being challenged, why would they do that if they weren’t up to something?” She snorted down her long nose. “Now I know why you spent all those years as a beat officer and never managed to land an investigative post.”

     Hurt, Sarmis pursed his lips. “All right, all right. I’ll keep an eye on him – but I still think you’re overreacting.”

     “Good to know that you think it’s all right for that-... that irresponsible newling to destabilise twenty years of peace for nothing.”

     “I hardly think it’s nothing, he’s looking for Blink-”

     Odati’s fingers tightened, her blunt nails digging in, and he obediently went silent again. “And that makes it forgivable, does it? Looking for the ungrateful little wretch who played us all for idiots to further her own agenda, and ran away at the first opportunity?”

     “But we don’t know-”

     “All he’s going to do is annoy Tevak, sneaking around in their territory. Do you want him showing up on our doorstep, demanding an explanation? Because that’s precisely what is going to happen if they keep... flouting the rules we’ve lived happily by, all these years!” At last, she released his arm, with a sharp, aggressive little shove. “Had I known they were going to be this much trouble, I’d have never have let them in.”

* * * * *
     As soon as she’d got inside, Halli scurried off to find Sadie, partly to try and organise some medicine for Rae, and partly just to warn her they were back, just in case Odati got particularly challenging. While the nyen busied herself with getting tea and painkillers together, the zaar retired to the bathroom to restructure her body and get herself back to normal.

     Up in his room and unaware of the drama slowly encroaching on him, Rae had curled up under his quilts, groaning with a mixture of discomfort and relief. He just wished that being home and safe meant he could relax.

     When Sadie put her head around his doorway, it was to find the spur’s curtains closed and his room plunged into gloom, a big, blanket-covered cocoon in the middle of his bed.

     “Hey.” After putting the cup and bowl down on his cabinet, Sadie perched on the mattress, resting a hand on the blanket-wrapped shoulder. “Glad we got you back in one piece. How are you feeling?”

     “Rubbish.” His voice came out muffled by the covers. “My head hurts and I keep getting cramp in my legs.” A sigh. “Seems to jus’ be getting worse and worse, right now.”

     “Yeah, that figures.” Sadie sighed, quietly. “Has anyone told you much about incubation sickness?”

     “A little bit. Headache, cramps, nausea?”

     Sadie nodded. “This is probably as bad as it’ll get,” she reassured. “You should start feeling better by tomorrow. The acute phase only lasts a few days, while the virus multiplies.”

     “...then I go crazy and start biting people, right?”

     For a few moments, Sadie remained quiet. How did you reassure someone who maybe had only a few months to live, slowly going psychotic the longer they survived? “It’s not an immediate change. It usually happens slowly, over a couple of months. You might notice yourself getting more irritable than normal, to start with.” She hesitated, weighing up how much she should tell him; didn’t want to scare him, but it was better that he was prepared, right? “If you’re getting cramps already, I wouldn’t be surprised if you start shape-shifting soon.”

     Rae groaned wordlessly, and covered his face with his hands. “How long?”

     “C’mon, drink this while you listen to me gab, you’ll feel better if you take it hot.” Sadie steered the mug of tea into his hands. “It’s difficult to predict, to start with. Just... happens, usually. Getting a cramp is usually a pretty good clue your body is changing, though, and most blights learn to recognise early signs of their shift, ultimately learn to control it, the longer they live with the virus. If you’re lucky, and you survive it, you can control it so you only shift when you want, like Halli.”

     “If I’m lucky.” Rae echoed, with a little snort of despair. “Surviving with this curse isn’t luck, Sadie. It’s being marginally-less-unlucky.” He stared down into his mug and watched as steam scribbled curls of mist over the dark green surface. “I wouldn’t even mind that so much in the short term, if it helped me sneak into Tevak’s land and find Bee.”

     “Speaking of which, uh.” Sadie lowered her voice. “...did you find out anything else?”

     Rae slumped back into the bedding. “Someone sold her to them. Used her like, like... currency. Swapped her for something they wanted better.” He used his free hand to massage his temples, but it didn’t do a lot for his headache. “How could someone do that, Sadie? To another living, thinking being?” He shot her a sidelong glance. “And please don’t try and excuse it by saying it’s what heff does to you.”

     Sadie shook her head. “I wasn’t going to. I was going to say, how are we ever going to work out who did it...? It could have been anyone here.” She fired a glance back at him. “It could have been you, for all I know. Fancy being a hero when you rescue her, eh? She’ll be so happy, she’ll probably fall right into your arms.”

     Rae pursed his lips and glared into his cup, but knew she was right. Anyone in the library could be responsible. Even Sadie.

* * * * *
     “...she is still here, Three Rings. You said we would make a decision when we returned if she was still here, and she is. What will we do?”

     Duskwing’s high, chirping voice could never have been described as very loud, but right now it echoed dramatically off the empty corridor walls and was making Three Rings uneasy. Any minute now, and the warmblood attention they had successfully avoided for so many years would suddenly be turned square onto them, and not only might they not escape, their whole colony would lose a very important ingress point through the river’s tidal defences.

     Like all her sisters, Three Rings was not prone to outbursts of emotion, but as the adult mentor to two excitable adolescent danata she was finding it difficult to remain level, and even now had to resist the urge to scold her, wearily. Of all the naiads the older worker had taught, Duskwing was by far the most wilful. Teaching her – or rather, trying to teach her – was an exercise in frustration. Keeping her attention was nigh impossible. If only she could be as keen to learn as Frostback, who right now followed her elder quite meekly.

     Opinion in the colony was that the quicker the youngling could direct her energy at something useful to the colony, the less problems she’d cause. Duskwing’s mentor was of the opinion that it was just feeding her aberrant nature, teaching her that it was acceptable to waste time and resources in the hope that it may some day be useful. “Maybe”s did not keep a colony fed and functioning!

     “We arrived after the warmbloods retired to sleep tonight so we could pass through unnoticed,” Three Rings reminded. “We should not draw any more attention to ourselves than is necessary. We will take our supplies to our boat, and we will leave.”

     Duskwing watched as her mentor approached the exit vent, lantern in hand. “But when we arrived here, she said, ‘help me’,” she pointed out, with an uneasy little flick of her wings. “Rendering aid would be the right thing to do.”

     “Why do you ask my instruction when you immediately disregard it?” Three Rings gave her a serious, suspicious glare. “And who gave permission for you to learn their language?”

     Duskwing perked her antennae forwards and clicked her beak, assertively. “I taught myself. I wanted to know what they say when they speak to us. We used to trade for useful things with them; we could do so again if we knew their language.”

     “You should not have been wasting your time with irrelevant things, Duskwing. You will not help the colony by indulging yourself in silly antics.” The imago pointed at the vent. “Bring your supplies.”

     Stubbornly, Duskwing refused to move from her spot. “They are bigger than us, they can carry heavier things. It would help our colony if we could trade useful things with them.”

     Three Rings snapped her wings, frustrated. “It helps no-one if you spend your time daydreaming of trading with a society that no longer exists, instead of working, as you should be! And it is unfair on your sisters to make them carry your lazy weight!” she scolded. “The people we once traded with all died long before your egg was even laid. Those that remain are violent, illogical beings that would rather kill us on sight.”

     While Duskwing quarrelled with her mentor, Frostback had hesitantly approached the big mammal, and now leaned up as close as she could manage to the strange flat face; the bruises lent its eyes a sunken, skeletal look, and it smelt funny. “I think she is sick.”

     Three Rings carefully removed the cover from the vent. “Come away from there. It is none of our business.”

     “She asked for our help!” Duskwing insisted. “If we do not help her, she will die.”

     “You do not know that; their kind often treat each other in such a manner. It is not our place to dabble in warmblood politics. We do not understand them, and they do not understand us. They are so highly driven by their emotions, they do things we could never fathom. This female could be property, she could be food, she could be being punished for an infraction-”

     “Punishment indicates a desire to correct an aberrant behaviour, but they are going to kill her. There is no logic here. They are being cruel!”

     “And if you intrude and draw their attention onto us, they may likewise kill us. She might kill us!”

     The young worker dithered, wings twitching. “Well, I am not afraid of her. I am going to help her,” she decided, clicking her mandibles.

     Three Rings put herself between the naiad and her target. “It is not you that I am concerned for. The big ones clearly wish to keep this female, as they would not have confined her otherwise. Have you stopped to consider what they will do if they notice our theft?”

     Duskwing at last drew to a halt, apparently finally realising what her mentor was trying to teach. “You are anxious about reprisals,” she recognised. “You think we may anger them?”

     “I know we will, if we remove her without permission.” Three Rings chirped her wings, uncomfortably. “Neither will Travels Far be pleased if we involve ourselves without good cause.”

     Duskwing held her mentor’s gaze, holding her antennae still to emphasise her own resolution. “Saving a life is a good cause,” she reminded, quietly.

     “I agree with my sister, I do not want to do nothing,” Frostback added, in spite of the anxious way she remained sticking close to Three Rings. “If she survives, she may think badly of us for ignoring her.”

     Three Rings remained quiet for a little while, considering their options, tiredly. “It is unlikely that anyone will have seen us, and we leave little scent – certainly insufficient for them to identify us,” she accepted, at last. “And our home is poorly accessible to them, if they even know where it is. They may not even realise we have had any input.” She paced her small feet uneasily on the spot. “You realise we cannot simply cut her free, though. She would either be recaptured and punished, or else draw attention onto us.”

     Duskwing flicked her wings, thoughtfully. “We could take her back to our colony with us.”

     Three Rings did not look particularly impressed by the idea. “Without asking permission from the strazae first? And what if she is too large to even fit through our doorways?”

     Duskwing folded both sets of arms. “I will think of something. Maybe I should look after her myself.”

     “You will accept responsibility?”

     “Yes.”

     Three Rings gave her a long, serious look. A little responsibility – and accountability for her actions – could encourage the young danata to finally start growing up. It might even stop that endless daydreaming she wasted so much time on. Or, she reminded herself, it could encourage it.

     A decision has to be made, she reminded herself. If we spend too long dithering over a decision, we will still be here when the residents begin to wake.

* * * * *
     The ripple of soft clicks and chirps drew Blink out of an already-disturbed recharge; the chatter of her children, probably discussing some game they were playing. Ahh, nice to be home. She simply sat and listened to them, for a little while, trying to work out what they were saying, but her translation software must have been broken. Words that should ordinarily have been logical and understandable came out as incomprehensible babble. She didn’t mind too much, though – it was more than comforting to just sit and listen to their little voices chattering.

     ‘Minding’ would involve the expenditure of just too much energy, anyway. She felt incomprehensibly weak, her tanks so empty they actually ached, and sore all over. It felt almost as though she’d been refitted into a new frame, but left hospital too quickly, before the physiotherapists had been able to get her comfortable in her new body, leaving components stiff, inflexible, uncomfortable. Maybe that was what had happened? They’d given her cortex a whack and as a result, she’d been labouring her way through a tortured, hallucinatory defragment. She couldn’t remember going to the hospital, but then she couldn’t really remember much of anything at all except the tiny fragments of memory that made everything feel like a confusing, unpleasant dream.

     At least keeping her optics shuttered and her actuators relaxed had made things a little more bearable – when she finally opened her optics, she looked out on a world so oppressively dark and featureless, she couldn’t tell if her optics even functioned, especially with her diagnostics offline as well.

     Blink groaned softly to herself; perhaps that explained it. This was a mausoleum, a place to lay to rest the bodies of damaged, dead machines, whose harmonics had failed and who could not be repaired. Meaning-... meaning...

     Am I dead? The gnawing ache in her chassis felt like it should have been good proof to the contrary, but it just made her more confused. But I can’t move, I can’t interpret my world, I can’t even remember how I got here... Do the dead feel pain?

     A little light in the periphery of her vision finally caught her attention – soft, yellowish light, haloed with a ring of white, bobbing around close to the floor. A meandering spirit, coming to get her? Her pump skipped in her chassis, no, not yet, I still have to tell my family what happened and I’m sorry–

     ...no, that couldn’t be right. Such a dim, yellowish light must have a mortal origin. Blink squinted at it, trying to force it into focus. After several long seconds, it at last lost some of the blur and the awkward halo, and admitted it was nothing but a wavery little hand-lamp, carried by one member of a group of silhouetted figures whose heads barely came to her shoulder even now.

     The glow of their optics was missing, but Blink’s tormented mind knew who she was looking at, and she managed a smile. “Hello, Serendipity,” she greeted the little figure. Her voice came out sounding strange even to her, almost... distracted. “Hello, Flashie. Who’s your friend, there?”

     Serendipity came closer, Flash clinging close behind her, and squeaked questioningly.

     “I’m sorry, bitlet.” Blink sighed. “I can’t... my brain is damaged. I don’t understand you.”

     The little femme reached forwards with a click and a chirp-

     The fessine felt a pair of tiny hands (or were they hot needles?) touch her wrists, and she jerked back at the sharp sting, involuntarily. “Ah-!” The sharp movement fired a bigger bolt of pain through her arms, all the way to her hands and elbows; she had to bite back a louder cry, fingers clenching into fists, eyes squeezing closed in a futile attempt to dam the building moisture. “...please don’t touch me.”

     They carried on with whatever it was they were doing, though. There followed more clicking and chirping, and a series of little tugs on her wrists that made her feel like screaming. In the background, she could hear the faint scratch of something tearing-

     Something gave way, and her weakened arms dropped instantly to the ground, as though her fingertips contained lead weights. “-oh...” she groaned, feebly, struggling to lift her hands from the concrete, but a puppet with cut strings would have moved with more success. The gritty floor scoured over the tops of her knuckles, taking off a layer of waxy skin, but she barely felt it over the flaring pain in her arms.

     Serendipity leaned closer and squeaked quietly, again, wrapping both tiny hands around her upper arm and tugging gently. Her incomprehensible chirps this time needed no translation. Come with me, Ama, come, come now.

     “I can’t come now, Dipps.” Blink had never felt so weak – she couldn’t even tug her arm free of her baby’s grasp. “I’m too tired. Just let me sleep a little...”

     Serendipity gave voice to a harsh, scolding noise, and tugged a little harder. Come NOW, Ama.

     “All right. All right...” Blink acquiesced, groaning. “Just-... just give me a moment...”

     Her legs felt so stiff. Inflexible, immobile, like the actuator cables had been sheared off. For a good few seconds, she couldn’t move, even if she’d wanted to, trapped in a kneeling position on a useless shred of fabric, her arms dangling lifeless at her sides. If someone said they’d glued her down, she’d have contentedly believed them.

     Rocking her weight forwards, she finally got her legs to unbend; pain like rusty gearing lit up inside her knees. Trembling and jerky, she straightened first one leg, and then the other, rolling onto all fours... but her arms, weakened after being held up in the air for so long, refused to support even her scrawny weight, giving way underneath her. With a gasped intake of shock, Blink caught herself on her elbows – just – before the rough floor impacted her chest and chin.

     An anxious twitter came up from the assembled infants.

     “I’m coming, I’m coming-” Blink grunted, feebly, trying to push herself up, but her swollen wrists wouldn’t bend. Is it really worth crawling on your belly, just because your babies demand it?

     You have to get out of here, before they seal the mausoleum up forever, her unconscious reminded. Follow them now, or you never will. She crawled with effort in the direction they were chivvying her, woodenly, feeling like a puppet herself. Little chirps and encouraging touches from tiny hands kept her moving, lumbering on her stomach like a beached seacreature. “Wh-where are we going?”

     The little lantern swung to point into an ominous, square mouth in the wall, visible only by merit of being even darker than the wall around it. Blink shied back, nauseously. What was this, what was going on? They-... they can’t be trying to trick you into your own grave...?

     As though to demonstrate it was safe, one of the tiny individuals entered the hole in the wall – were they even children? Blink had to swallow a whimper, rapidly losing track of what was real and what was just confused, septic hallucinations. The little lantern vanished into the opening, accompanied by the hollow tings of little footsteps on metal.

     Whatever they were, at least they did seem to be genuine about helping her; the lantern didn’t immediately disappear, continuing to meander about in front of her, its owner chirping at her, and the little hands kept on chivvying her from behind. Trust them, Blink. Trust them. Might be your last chance to get out with your freedom intact.

     Blink paused at the entrance to the hole, and closed her eyes, allowing herself a second or two to enjoy the encouraging feel of cool night air blowing across her stifled skin, caressing her face. Not a grave, her confused mind at last allowed her to believe, but an air duct. Leading to the outside. Freedom, safety.

     At last, she leaned down, supporting herself on her elbows, and crawled obediently into the dark.

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