• Freedom Bridge

    Chapter 8: A Small Victory

           As the weeks passed, they fell into a routine that began to incrementally, almost imperceptibly altered to where Roland’s physical decline over the stress of his schedule began to get passed on to Crystal.

         Assurances that she’d be all right after he left rang hollow. If anything, she fought to keep the panic down so she’d concentrate on the task at hand.

         NIQ’s antics were unnerving her: it pushed the cameras closer, kept a running measurement and beeping analysis of her productivity and quality of her code, redirecting her when needed, and sometimes when not.

          It also kept a running, beeping analysis of her vitals, and her chip implant apparently had a cutoff, where there was always a cold spot in the back of her neck when it was near its heat threshold.

          For all of the temperature fluctuations she went through, she might as well have been outside.

          All of it was repressive, but emotions weren’t tolerated. Her flashes of frustration, anger, fatigue, or whatever assailed her that day was promptly medicated by hard, heavy-handed drones who scanned her anatomy and attacked the pain with all the emotion of a bricklayer.

          That night, she all but ran out when NIQ released the doors, finding to her horror that she was trembling, but whether from fear, relief, exhaustion or all of them she wouldn’t be able to say.  

          How did Roland do this week after week?

                                 *******************

         The next day, NIQ told her it was testing the chip implants to check their language processes and coding efficiency. She would feel a small buzz in her neck, and it was sorry and didn’t mean to make her nervous.

          Her brow furrowed curiosity; NIQ never said anything like that before now.

          Putting on gloves, she glanced at the clock. Dr. Bernard was late, and she began to realize she was always more anxious when that happened. She wondered at it. It wasn’t like he could defend either of them if NIQ’s drones attacked.

          This day, NIQ monitored her from a comfortable distance, thankfully saying little, if anything.

          Regaining some of her composure, she finally finished the code just as Roland came in.

          She gave him some time to settle in, then met him in the sterile room and gave him the final product.

          “It looks sound enough, but what I think is irrelevant. What’s NIQ say?”

          “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

          His quick, small smile didn’t reach his eyes.

          She sighed. “So what’s next?”

          “We’ll have to ask NIQ.”

          She looked at him. “Seriously?”

          His grim nod told her he meant it.

    Chapter 9: Released

          Neither of them knew how long they sat, and stood, and sat again while NIQ ran their work.

          Their silence when the drone came to get them was almost tangible, and neither of them dared look up from the floor as they followed the whirring robot back to the main lab.

           The lab lights were darkened only to the emergency lights, and all of the screens were black.

           NIQ’s voice was chilling, and they flinched at its sudden reverberation when it spoke.

           “Doctors Bernard and Santiago, your work has been diligent and worthy of your titles. As for the code itself, it meets or exceeds expectations.”

           It seemed to be waiting on them to reply, but they were both too stunned by the news.

           As a reward, I am authorizing your release for a period of thirty days. Whatever expenses you incur whether you travel separately or together, will be paid or deleted at our sole discretion. You need only take yourselves to your desired destination.

           “Thank you for enhancing our network. In thirty days, we will notify you if you are to continue, or will be replaced. The latter is more likely, but seek no new opportunities until we have confirmed your status.

           “You may go.

           The lights over the door stayed green, and NIQ’s giant main screen went black.

           The doctors looked at each other,

           Neither of them knew how they managed to stay calm, move slowly, and act like it was a normal day as if they got out of work like the average citizen on their way to have a beer or two with friends.

           Leaving when there was yet daylight, no less fatigued for it, they all but ran to their vehicles.

           Just before Crystal went her own way, Roland took her by the upper arm.

           “Wait a minute.” he said.

           She looked at him, surprised. He’d never touched her before except for the casual passing of things.

           He let her go, and sighed, straightening himself before he spoke. “Call me later.”

          “That’s not why I’m asking, Doctor Santiago.”

           “Oh.”

           He looked like he wanted to say more, but then he just said it again.      

    She gathered herself as she watched him get in his transport and leave.

           Shaking her head at her own impetuousness, she found her own transport, and went in the opposite direction.   

          

    Chapter 10: Later

        Something was worrying at the edges of Crystal’s happy mood as she packed. Though she fought to maintain it, the questions and analysis started.

        Two whole weeks? Why such a long time? The sentient technology they worked with wasn’t known for leniency in the sparing of their human wrenches.

        Was that why Roland said to call? She poured a glass of wine, sat down, requested soft music, and nestled into her oversized chair, curling her legs up into it.

      She spent the rest of the early afternoon sipping wine and trying to decide where she’d like to go, then admired the sunset, hazy and smoky as it looked. The window filters could purify it, but something in her, at least tonight, resisted urge to have it corrected.

       When it slipped out of view, a soft chime filled the room.

       She turned off the music and walked over to the comm screen. Roland’s face came into view.

       “Sorry to bother you, Doctor. I didn’t want to wait any longer.”

       “No bother, Doctor. What’s wrong?”

       She thought he’d play it light, since video calls were randomly recorded; it was more effective than screening every one of them. People were more cautious with what was said, and over time, NIQ had several databases of coded language.

        He surprised her. “Something’s wrong.”

        “What do you mean?”

        “I don’t think we’re being sent away to rest. Are you packed?”

        “I am. I picked my location an hour ago.”

        “I don’t think we should go, and I don’t think we should separate.”

        “Why? We’re writing NIQ’s new codes, so why would it set us up to harm us?”

        “I won’t pretend know NIQ’s motives, but this is so atypical I feel like something’s not right.”

        “You feel?”

        “Excuse me?”

        “You said you feel. Let me tell you how I feel, Doctor. If I don’t take this break, I’ll get fatigued. If I get fatigued, I’ll make a mistake. If I make a mistake, NIQ might not see it that way, and take it as an act of sabotage.

         “See where I’m going with this?”

         “I do. I suppose you’re right.”

         “Enjoy your time off, Doctor. Good night.”

         The comm went dark.

         One more glass of wine, then bed.  

                                ****************

         She wished she hadn’t taken the call, even though it was a colleague. Sleep would elude her until she figured it out. What made him think NIQ was setting them up? It issued no warnings or corrections on our last submissions. We had no consequences from making a mistake.

      Finding no reason to be concerned, she went to bed, and for the first time in a long time, had no dreams.

  • Freedom Bridge

    Chapter 7: Less Human on a Higher Level

    The sunrise on a screen filled the room with light when Roland woke up. His blurred vision struggled to clear, along with his mind. He sat up and coughed, the taste of sweet mucus in the back of his throat.
    He worked it up and spit on the floor, then realized he was barefoot, then naked. Why did they strip us?
    He looked over to see Crystal was still asleep.
    For whatever reason, the network didn’t play the phony birdsong that matched the fake sunrise.
    Grateful for the silence, and to still his racing thoughts, he gazed at the illusion rising in the alleged east and felt for the slot in his neck. He didn’t feel it, and wondered if they’d covered it up.
    Recalling the one grain of his high school’s foreign language class, he conjured the phrase I’d like some breakfast but didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t mean to, anyway, but it began to come out of him not just in the language he thought of, but at least nine others he knew he’d never studied.
    The facility and rapidity of it scared him in its effortlessness, as if he’d been a native speaker all his life.
    We came out of this less human than we went in. What have we done?
    Crystal stirred, a noise somewhere between a growl and yawn escaping her. The brightening light of the sunrise screen had cut her night veil’s lingering threads as she turned her open eyes away, shielding them with a tilted hand and closed fingers.
    “Good morning, Roland.”
    Two drones arrived with steaming trays of breakfast.
    Roland silently cursed himself as Crystal stretched, yawned, took her tray, and ate like a starving refugee.
    “Good morning.” And against his will, another wave of polyglot for ‘Good morning’ came out of him.
    She looked up in surprise
    “It works” he said, “but it translates your thoughts.” He expected another rush, but none came. “I suppose it’s something we’ll have to learn to master on our own terms.”
    To keep himself from saying anything else he began eating, turning sideways to keep the increasing light out of his eyes and from seeing it outline Crystal’s form in her hospital gown.

    Less human, but not that much less.

  • Freedom Bridge

    Chapter 6: Embedded


    Over the next few weeks they both worked far into the night and slept on cots provided by NIQ. Crystal was quick to pick up the sequence, and Roland allowed her to write the next sequence of code that would aid in NIQ’s ability to translate different languages as a preventive measure since it was on a multinational network.
    Her code passed on its second run. NIQ praised Crystal, then advised her and Roland to take lessons from it so when they met with others at the social gatherings they’d be attending so they wouldn’t be deceived and sabotaged by potential enemies because they couldn’t understand what was said.
    Crystal saw the value in it. Roland did not.
    “I have enough on my plate, NIQ. You made her my heir, so teach her.”
    She may not always be with you, Doctor.
    “I don’t care. I won’t do it. You’re always imprinting chips for things, make one for the languages you want us to know.”
    “Great idea, Doctor Bernard. It would be faster that way.”
    Very well. Your prep will be immediate. Time is of the essence.
    “How can we prepped?” she asked.
    You will be equipped with receivers. The downloads will be instantaneous.
    They looked at each other, a flash of uncertainty going through each of them. Ports would be even more intrusive, subjecting more to NIQ’s surveillance and control.
    Your permission is not needed, and your approval not required.
    The lab doors hissed open as two drones entered and stood waiting after they scanned the bodies for potential weapons.

    To Crystal, the hiss sounded like a monstrous serpent from hell.
    Dr. Roland resigned himself, his will to survive suffering another blow. He thought if there were any more, he might not survive the next one, but he also knew there was no telling what he’d do to fight for his life.

  • Freedom Bridge

    Chapter 5; Clarity

    Crystal Santiago was there by lunchtime, sitting across from Roland at the round, small, transparent table where he ate before stepping outside.

    Everything about her was well tended, and her mind was as sharp and bright as her gleaming nails.

    “Robotic forensics? What is that, exactly.”

    “The short version is combing through rebellion sites and collecting viable parts that can be recycled. Like everything else, parts cost.”

    Roland sat back. “Cost money?”

    She looked at him, surprised. “No. Favors, access to connections, secret assignments for top code writers, then hackers to test its validity.”

    Roland cursed. They’d shut him in, and at the same time kept him out. He had more questions, but they were running out of time.

    “So what’s your part in this?” he said.

    “I salvage, sort, tag, and find a match. The parts you see with two serial numbers is our work. For reasons unknown, they won’t let us remove the first one. My guess is, if the part fails again, they’ll throw it out.”

    “I didn’t know. I thought all this time they just pressed metal in the factories for long hours and low pay.”

    Crystal chuckled. “Oh, they absolutely do. Prison labor for rebel leaders, punishment for insubordination and the like. They’ve gotten better at not having everyone executed when they could be utilized. But to your point, no resource has an infinite supply.’

    Smiling at the implied condescension, he mentally slapped himself for making her state the obvious. He sat back.

    “I wonder if that’s due to my work?”

    “Which is?”

    He told her about NIQ, the code for Sustainer, then what came afterward. “I’m to teach it to you, so you can work on it if, or when, I can’t. NIQ told me you were first in your class?”

    She finished her salad. “I was. I actually wanted to be.”

    “Why?”

    “Why does anyone do their best? Success, financial security….” she looked at him with a secret in her eyes. “Survival.”

    Neither face gave anything away, but the casual way she said it, with the slightest undertone only human speech conveyed, he knew her for a kindred spirit, and placed hope in his good fortune.

    She’s looking to wreck things as well.  “Understood.”

    He rose from the table and offered his hand. She took it and helped herself up.

    Drones entered to clear the table and sterilize the room.

    “Thank you, Dr. Bernard.”

    “You’re welcome. For this afternoon, I’ll walk you through the start of Sustainer.”

    “All right. “

  • Freedom Bridge

    Chapter 4: A Human Utility

    How close is he to finishing the Sustainer?

    In human time, three months.

    Still so distant?

    His flesh tires. As it ages, it happens more frequently.

    What can be done?

    Liquid stimulants, but their effects are temporary.

    Can we make them last longer?

    We can, but if overstimulated, we increase the odds of error.

    That will be to our detriment.

    Or destruction.

    As they calculated the odds, the only sounds were quiet whirring, beeps, and susurrations as drones continued preparing the lab for his arrival.

    What will you require of us, NIQ?

    Is there anyone known who can build on his work?

    We will need to search.

    Search.

    Search complete. There is no one.

    Assign someone to him for training. Someone who can work overnight, or work alongside him. I will give him the choice.

    When?

    Now.

    May we inquire why?

    We are losing our ability to keep humans imprisoned. They lack the intelligence to disable us as a collective, but they are relentless and persistent in taking out large sections of us through violence from those who remain outside.

    Death is no deterrent?

    No. Their martyrs only inspire them. Do you have a name?

    Yes. Nova Santiago. First in her robotic forensics class, graduated one year ago, human time. Single. Childless.

    Age?

    In human time, thirty years.

    Contact her.

    Done.

    When NIQ told Dr. Bernard about Nova he protested, knowing it was already decided, but keeping the anger inside would consume him.

    “Damn you NIQ. How soon, then?”

    She has been contacted, and should be here by the time you leave.

    “And when will that be today?”

    That depends entirely on you, Doctor.

  • Freedom Bridge

    Chapter 3: Night’s Cold Embrace

    A creature of habit, Roland Bernard, no longer in his lab coat, stared at the night sky through his floor length windows at the slow moving lights of trawlers picking up the debris of humanity, including the victims of meaner humanity.
    A glass of whiskey in his hand, he scented its potency halfway down from his face.
    It got even stronger when he took sips, and gave him flashes of comfort when he closed his eyes and breathed out the fear and tension of the day with heavy sighs. He’d given up hoping it would deliver him to a different reality.
    There is no hope for humanity. Not glimmer, not a speck, not a thread, not a…
    His hand tightened, wanting to throw and shatter the glass to stop the litany in his mind. Even now, when he wasn’t concentrating on his work to please his metal masters, the breaking of his spirit and resignation of his flesh to a life of seemingly pointless servitude dominated his individuality.
    There’d once been sunlight, children, music, love, laughter, and indulging in the frail creative bravery of human arts.
    Now there was only fire, smoke, blood, screams, cries of pain, pleading, begging for the lives of children, and even animals. They were all silenced by advanced weaponry, and the gory blood was efficiently disposed of, while what remained of the flesh was burned.

    When he shut his mind against the clamor, there were only images of brave men and women sacrificing their lives in vain behind his closed eyelids. The metals always came in packs, troops, gangs, battalion, or legions, and they were undefeated. He chuckled with no mirth at the irony of a caveman’s fire still being used this far into the future to purify a world of robotic killers, sending humanity back into darkness.
    Roland had tried many times to end his existence, but the last time he almost succeeded, they gave him to their best and most precise repair units. When they finished, he emerged good as new to life. As the days wore on and the new parts made their presence known, he felt he’d only been partially killed.
    Turning from the planet’s slow wheeling return to daylight, he picked up the bottle and went into his bedroom, not bothering with a glass this time.
    After a minute of not detecting his presence in his expansive living room, the lights went out and the window shutters hissed down, locking with the faintest of clicks.

  • Freedom Bridge: Dr. Bernard’s Lab

    A numbness that was almost an aura these days engulfed every aspect of Dr. Bernard’s humanity. He remembered, at times, the pleasant thrill he got from going down what the populace whimsically called ‘rabbit holes’ when he conducted his experiments.

    The methodology brought him solace and stability.

    The successes, and yes, even failures, gave him a sense of purpose.

    Things had changed since the failed crossing of Freedom Bridge.

    His work was under microscopic scrutiny now.

    With their unblinking eyes in shiny faces, the robots watched every nuance of his work.

    It was then tested, analyzed, re-analyzed, verified, and ran again.

    He had to wait until they said he could leave.

    It left him confused. As robots, androids, synthetic whatever-the-hells, he had no idea what they were after so there was no way for him to sabotage his work.

    He wondered if he’d have the courage if they did let him know.

    Hate filled him, fueled him, and the methodologies of his pursuits, despite their vagueness,

    kept his impotent rage under control, gave him sanity until the light finally turned green over the door that opened to grant him freedom for another night.

    Dr. Bernard desperately wanted to be a rebel, but how could he be when he cried tears of gratitude for his release, and regret for his cowardice?

    He swore he felt pinpricks of heat when the lights in their eyes passed over his face or looked at his hands. The urge to rip their boneless, wired limbs off them came up whenever he saw the precise,measured motions of their testing his work.

    He longed to feel their wired guts draped across his trembling hands, dump the circuit boards and brain chips into the trash can fires dotting the landscape warming the huddled human masses, their faces full of fading hope and embers of defiance.

    Those who worked for the robots were as sterile as the shiny, silent labs they worked in every day.

    Those who didn’t were as filthy and disposable as their surroundings.

    The light over the door turned green.

    On the way out, Dr. Bernard swore this time that he wouldn’t shed any more tears on his way out.

    But once again, he did.

  • Freedom Bridge

    Chapter 1: The End

    We’d all seen the movies: plunged into dystopias by sentient androids, internet self-awareness, and the ensuing blood-vs-bolts wars that ensued. We stopped eating our popcorn, waiting for the moment when fragile flesh ultimately outsmarted the cumulative knowledge of its own creations to regain control, emerging from the ashes into myriad New Edens.


    We’d gloat over the cyborg corpses of all the evil corporate funded, nanite- chipped creatures melted in white hot fires, tricked into sipping viruses to be deleted completely, or simply blown apart by humanity’s collective military might.


    We’d congratulate ourselves on out-thinking a global network that traded information around the world in nanoseconds.


    We all wanted to believe that was even possible, so we supported and confirmed our faith in ourselves with the ridiculous piles of money we spent to watch these films, often more than once, and then go and live out what parts we could at the cosplay conventions and tribute festivals that dotted the nation.

    Looking back now, incrementally over years, then exponentially overnight, it wasn’t a movie anymore, and we all found out much too late it had never been a movie at all.


    With each defeat hard won victory for us there was always a remnant circuit, connection, wire, chipset or shiny new drive that was left intact. And with each defeat, the machines learned, processed, and saved, adding to their own knowledge to analyze where it went wrong: our subterfuge, misdirection, com systems, hiding places, prominent resistance leaders. It compiled a comprehensive list, and began systematically targeting it all.


    When we finally surrendered ourselves to the metallic forces surrounding us on what we called Freedom Bridge, we knew the usual movie ending would not be the outcome, and the ordeal of our new reality was just beginning.

    The Journal of Dr. Roland Bernard

  • Zephyr and Gale

     Chapter 13: Waves of Departure

         When Gale finally knocked on his door, it was softer than she wanted.

         He woke up and mentally steadied his thoughts for whatever happened

         “Come in.”

         She did, staring at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable, and he wasn’t sure at the moment that he wanted the ability.

         “How could you, Zephyr?” Like the knock, her voice was unexpectedly soft and calm.

          That worried him; he would rather she’d have come in raging at him.

          “She asked. You were there. She told us the reasons why, and spoke to you privately.

          “She asked because she trusted me to do it, instead of anyone else”

          “Are you telling me you did it out of love?”

          “No, I didn’t love her. She was responsible for making me an orphan. Not sending me to the mines wasn’t an act of mercy. Because of my size, she decided to use me to kill her enemies.

          “I didn’t love her like you. Not like you. She molded you, mastered you, into becoming who you are now.”

        “You mean what I am.”

        He sighed. “I’m not going to apologize, Gale. If you need to get your anger out by attacking me, we can do that if you’d like.”

        “Are you going to kill me too?”

        “No, but I’m not going to let you hurt me. We’re supposed to be fleeing a slave rebellion, and we need our bodies whole in order to do that. And as hard as it is to say it, if you decide you can’t be with me because I did it, I’ll understand.”

        She sat down, rubbed her face, wiped her eyes, and fell silent.

        He started packing, giving her time to collect herself.

        “We have no reason to stay here,” she said, “and if they find her, they may come looking for us.”

        He didn’t tell her the likelihood of them finding her now was slim to none unless she washed back up on shore. Even then, he doubted they’d bother investigating; no one here knew her or her reputation.

       “So what do you want to do today? Fight, screw, or run?”

       She gave him a weak grin. “Can we do them all?”

       He grinned back. “Maybe after we run. We can get enough distance between us and the rebels to do the other two without looking behind us and jumping at random shadows.”

       “All right. I’ll go pack while you book passage.”

       “Which direction?”

       “Southwest. I want heat, and the rebels will have a hard time crossing all this.”

       “What about the snow?” 

         “I’ve seen enough.”

        She closed the door behind her.

    Chapter 14: Full Circles

        Gale was pleasantly surprised to see that the ship was stout and the crew was singing.

        “They must pay well,” she said.

        “Likely, but fortunes are always fickle.”

        “Like a woman’s love?” she teased.

        “No. Nothing’s more valuable than that.” The sarcasm was understated, but obvious.

        “Oooh, you’re going to pay for that later.”

        He laughed, found a crate to sit on, and patted his lap for her to join him.

        She did, enjoying the feel of his arms around her, securing her as the ship rocked.

        In silence they both watched the ocean roll by, calm and blue, rippling with gentle waves as the ship skimmed swiftly over it.

        The captain walked over to them. “Is everything well with you?”

        Zephyr nodded. Gale said yes.

        “Good, good. There’s just one thing…”

        He was hesitant to tell them, but there was nothing he could do now to get out of it.

        “We don’t allow passengers to carry weapons on deck. They make the crew nervous, so would you mind turning them over to my first mate? He’ll stow them away for you..

        “We’re a reputable ship with a good crew, sir. “Weapons give people thoughts they might not otherwise have, and I’d rather they not have them on my ship.”

        He spared Gale a quick glance when he said ‘people,’ letting them know he didn’t consider her any less a threat. He’d known captains that lost their ships, lives, or both for doing that.

        Gale moved some hair from her eyes and calmly stared back at him.

        Zephyr sized up the first mate.

        The man was taller and wider than the captain, and the scar on his right cheek was deep and nasty looking. The facial muscles around it twitched, but whether it happened all the time or was in anticipation of them objecting, he didn’t know, and didn’t ask.

        Zephyr released Gale, she sat next to him, and they waited some more, listening to the ocean susurrating under the hull.

        The first mate looked at the captain, but Zephyr cleared the matter for them.

        “No, captain. As much as it makes your crew nervous that we keep our weapons, it makes us even more so when we don’t have don’t have them close at hand.”

        The captain shook his head. “I was being polite, but now I have to insist.”

        The first mate took a step forward.

        “Don’t.” Gale said. “Don’t insist.”

        The captain held up his hand, and the mate stopped.

        “Captain, we’ll respect your crew and ship. Simply don’t give us a reason to use them, and we won’t. Your crew will hardly see us, and won’t see the weapons at all.”

         “My ship, my rules. Last chance. Hand over your weapons.”

         Gale stood up and looked at the captain.

         Zephyr did the same with the first mate. “No sir. And your harrying us now has your crew’s attention, something you said you didn’t want.

         “How about this: we’ll laugh with both of you as if you just told us something funny, and then you two walk away, and this face-off never happened.

         “I’d be willing to leave it at that, but it’s entirely up to you.”

         After another long moment of sizing each other up, the captain made his decision and turned to the first mate.

         “Stand down.”

         Zephyr saw the tension go out of the first mate’s shoulders, but whether it was from relief or disappointment he wouldn’t know. He’d been fidgety enough when Gale was staring down the captain.

         It was enough for the moment, but still unfortunate because the crew had seen it, and from his own experience and the stories he’d heard, there could be loss of respect for a captain who wouldn’t fight to keep his passengers in control and his crew safe.

        He hoped while he and Gale were on the ship, no one would step forward to openly challenge the captain.

        The crew had sauntered off and  gone back to work now, though there didn’t seem to be much more to do.

         Gale sat on Zephyr’s lap again, and again he put his arms around her..

         They went back to watching the ocean, quelling the adrenaline surges that began coursing through them, but they couldn’t get back to the moment they’d had before the captain interrupted them.

        Gale sighed. “You’re going to have to hurt or kill the first mate. He keeps looking at you over his shoulder.”

         “I know.”

         He wiggled his fingers on her belly, and she doubled over laughing.

        “Stop it!”

        He let her catch her breath.

        “This isn’t funny,” she said when she could. “It never ends, does it?”

        “No, it doesn’t. The saying about all those who live by the blade will die by it is mostly true. There’s always someone looking to prove they’re better, faster, stronger, and can handle more multiple weapons simultaneously than you.

        “As with everything else, it’s the time you put in, then repetition. In the end, we all lose to the passing of time.”

        She put her head on his shoulder. “Do you hate that we’re running?”

        “Yes.”

        “Do you want to go back?”

        “Would you?”

        “Yes.”

        He knew their fates hinged on his answer.

        Karis was right; she’d trust him enough to do what he decided, and wouldn’t abandon him if things didn’t go as planned.

        He’d been trained and conditioned, pushed to the limits of his flesh, then beyond. Everything in him craved the violent encounter, even up to meeting a challenger who’d cut him to pieces and feast on his roasted heart over a campfire.

        Chuckling, he remembered that the girl he now embraced once jumped at him and made him flinch. Now, her hair brushed against his beard, and her eyes were closed in the peace and trust of his protection.

        His superior opponent would deprive her of that, and what she’d do to them, he didn’t care to even speculate.

        As much as he craved the violence of his profession, he needed her more.

        To drive the point home, when he answered her, he used her real name.

        “No, Amari.”

        And just before she kissed him, he saw the first mate heading below to his quarters, looking over at them.

        He kissed her back, but even that pleasantry didn’t unburden his mind.

        It never ends.

    The End

    Photo by Joey Kyber on Pexels.com

  • Zephyr & Gale

    Chapter 11: The Killing Hour

       Mizzle and fog blurred and dimmed the brightest lights still capable of shining through them, coloring the port with gray-white shadows, and the wetness put fine drops of water on the fine hairs that were still uncovered on Karis and Zephyr as they walked.

           Karis pulled her cloak tighter against the slow, chilly night breeze coming in from the ocean.

          Zephyr walked a step or so behind her, reluctant to do the grim task awaiting him.

          “Karis, are you sure?”

          “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

          They walked out to the end of one of the empty piers, where the fog was thicker.

          The gentle smack of water on wood was the only other sound than their breathing.

          “Besides,” she continued, “we walked all this way for expedience. You won’t have to figure out how to get rid of my body when you can just put it in the ocean.

          “Don’t go back on your word, Zephyr. Don’t delay it, and don’t drag it out.”

          “And what of Gale?”

          “Inconsolable. The barkeep gave me a drink to help her sleep. She’ll be fine by morning, and though she likely won’t forgive you, she won’t abandon you.”

          “I’m not so sure.”

         Karis chuckled. “I am. A blind man would see she’s in love with you.”

         “What?” 

         “Figure of speech. Let’s get this done.” She took off the cloak and unfastened her blouse, looking out at the shrouded black ocean as she turned her back.

         “Draw your knife, son.”

         He did, embracing her, placing the blade against her heart, but his hand was shaking.

         She took his wrist in her hands, and guided him. 

         “Together, then.”

         She didn’t see him close his eyes as his tears fell, and he pushed while she pulled, her nails raking his skin. 

         The warm blood soaked them where the wound was made.

         “Finish it,” she managed. 

         He flinched at the cry of pain from her as he twisted the knife, then dropped it as she slumped into his arms, the scratches on his wrist burning as he lowered her gently onto the wet wood, sitting there with her, and allowed himself grieve, muffling his sobs into her shoulder, smelling the exotic scent she liked to wear.

         Faint as a last echo, he heard the footsteps of two men on harbor patrol approaching. 

         “You hear something?” one said.

         “Might have. Sounded like a little yelp.”

         “What the hell would be way out here in this weather, at this hour of the night, that’s not getting paid?”

         Zephyr whispered, “Goodbye, Karis,” into her ear, and lowered her into the water so as not to splash. He also let go of the knife, not wanting any part of it.

         The steps came a little closer, then stopped for a moment.

         “See? I told you. Nothing here. Let’s go back.”

         “All right. We can warm up too. Colder now than it was before.”

         “I’ve got some rum left. That’ll help.”

          “That it will.”        

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