As the light flashed red and traffic edged grudgingly to a stop, Ryan Morrison -- for that's how he styled himself this century -- stepped from the curb and into the crosswalk. His foot had barely touched the street when he started suddenly at the insistent tone of the five-year-old, who had been scrutinizing him curiously for the last minute or so.
"Momma! Momma!" The boy tugged frantically at the young woman holding his hand and pointed to Ryan’s ears. "Look! He's just like in that book Grandma read me!"
Ryan smiled gently at the child and his harried mother, who was now half dragging her recalcitrant son across the intersection before the light changed back. While it was good to know a few children, even in this century, retained the ability to see through his disguise, it was also a warning. He'd been a bit negligent lately about keeping up appearances. Laxness led to death, or worse.
Such a mistake had proven fatal to one of his dearest friends not too many decades before and he had long ago promised himself never to make it. Still, with so many losing the ability to see beyond each year, it had become too easy to forget to shore up his mask when children were around. Especially, since his mind had been on the meeting. A meeting so urgent, he had neglected to be as aware of his surroundings as he usually was.
"Momma! Stop!" The boy hung on her arm like a brake as they reached the far curb.
"Enough, Jamal! We need to get your shoes and then go shopping. I've still got to decide on dinner before your father gets home."
Jamal ignored her with the conviction of someone who knows he’s right, yanked free and pointed directly at Ryan as he stepped even with them.
"But, Momma! Look at his ears! And his face! They're…" He broke off abruptly and stared uncertainly when only a dowdy, middle-aged, balding man stood there as Ryan firmed up his masquerade.
The woman darkened another shade at Ryan’s quizzical look.
"I'm really sorry, Mister. I don't know what's gotten into him."
"It's quite all right, Ma'am." He smiled and suddenly seemed twenty years younger. "Imagination like his should be encouraged. Who knows? He may the next great writer or someone whose willingness to see beyond the obvious leads him to discover new vistas for us all."
He crouched a bit to speak to the boy and sighed silently as the woman shifted to place most of herself between him and her son. He understood her caution while despising its necessity.
"You're still young, kid, but I'm positive you'll remember this one thing." He made sure of it with just the tiniest of spells. "You have a great gift. A gift for seeing things not only as they appear, but also as they should be. Treasure it."
"That's very kind of you, Mister," the woman edged away, "but we've really got to run along."
"I understand."
As the two hurried off, Ryan stayed put for a moment. Jamal looked back just before they reached the next corner. When he did, Ryan waved, then latticed his disguise so the boy, only, could see him. For three seconds, the boy's eyes bulged in awe and a huge smile lit his face, as he viewed not the stooped, balding man he'd spoken to, but a sprightly two-hundred-and-sixty-year-old elf who'd barely reached adulthood.
Spell now firmly back in place, Ryan waited just long enough to see Jamal's mother beam tolerantly even through her exhaustion, as her son burst into an explosion of gesticulation and talking. He checked the time. Barely ten minutes left. He hurried on.
None of the others around him noted the seeming incongruity of a man his age and health slipping through the sidewalk crowds and across the jammed intersections with the agility of a teenager. He hadn't expected them to. He made the appointed rendezvous with less than forty seconds to spare.
He glanced around cautiously. Nothing, and no one, seemed out of place but then that was why they had chosen this site. It would be difficult to station either static observers or attackers in such a frenetically busy spot as the fish market.
He took a deep breath and waited. Snatches of conversation reached his ears: "…they’re fresh! What do you think…", "…cancer. Damn UV…", "…eels how much?" The first two fingers of his left hand beat an almost unconscious tattoo against his upper thigh. In fact, he was a bit stunned when he looked down and saw what they were doing.
"Admit it," he told himself. "You're responsible for part of this and you’re scared too."
But, why not? Of the thousands of his people who had once roamed this area, barely fifty remained. The last time such a meeting had been arranged, his friend and two Others had died. He sighed deeply as the well-known pain struck again.
Though no longer the stabbing fire of old as time and distance built a scar over it, he knew this pain would never entirely fade to much less than the gnawing ache of longing he still felt now. Had it already been forty years since Nathan…? He stopped himself with a visible effort. No! Not Nathan! Raindancer! He was dead. There was no longer any need for subterfuge even in his thoughts. Had it already been forty years since Raindancer was murdered? Forty years since he had heard his laughter and seen his smile? They had been youths together, running the hills, sipping nectar from the bells of flowers, and dancing in the warm summer rains.
Almost against his will, his memory shifted to those other times. The Badtimes. The time of fear and hiding. Of seeing his family and the Others destroyed and maimed. Of holding Raindancer as he died. Of…
Suddenly, he started violently and a shiver of loathing shuddered across his back at the sarcastic voice of the only being he truly hated.
"Some courier. You're only alive right now because of the truce. It’s hard to believe you’re what the gutless Assembly is worried about."
Ryan cringed inwardly at the sneering half-smirk he had learned to despise, an emotion, which even now he found repugnant, but which he admitted was all too real.
"I could've finished you off," the Other continued. "You didn't even know I'd arrived. The only reason I didn't was because of the oath the Assembly demanded from me."
"That, and the fact, there are too many witnesses and you'd have some unbelievable explaining to do to the police. I'm not as naive as you'd like to think."
The Other looked Ryan over.
"I'd swear you were actually human. Even your nose hairs twitch when you breathe. I'm impressed."
"I'm not here for a critique, just your capitulation. Let’s get on with it!"
"Temper and all! Very human, indeed. But you have a point. Time is limited --- at least yours."
"So much for capitulation. You have exactly three seconds before I walk out of here with my package. Explain that to your Assembly."
For the first time, a wisp of perspiration dotted the Other's lip. He glanced about nervously. "There's no need to get huffy. We've agreed to everything you've demanded. Everything. Unconditionally."
"Is that a royal we? Or are you speaking for the whole Assembly?"
"The Assembly." The admission came out as a disgusted snarl. "Those gall-less wonders don't seem to realize that my forces and I could still clean out the rest of you in less than a year, if they had the guts to let us."
Ryan laughed coldly as a young man carrying a wood-like looking piece of dry cod pushed his way past.
"You’re better at bluster than bluff. Just how many do you plan to lose while you’re doing this? Your last attack may have decimated us, but not as much as it did you."
"We learned from our mistakes."
"So did we. That’s why you’re the ones who need what we have."
"I’d just as soon execute you and take it, then kill the rest of your traitorous breed. The joy alone in that would be worth losing another half of us."
"Even if you’re the first? I guarantee you will be, if I need to expend my last breath to do it." Ryan's voice hardened to ice. "I haven't forgotten Raindancer."
There was a nasty laugh.
"Neither have I. He provided me with some great sport, though his end came much too soon. Even those frail human younglings survived longer under my hand than he did. My only regret was, I was ordered to leave you alive. It was a serious mistake then and a worse one now. This war would have long been over but for your people's treachery."
"Which treachery is that? Our decision to stay and protect the humans from the likes of you rather than fleeing with the rest? Or are you simply referring to our… What's your Assembly's standard phrasing? Our unpardonable and traitorous resistance to the natural order of things? Your version of it, of course."
"Both." The Other's voice was flat and ominous.
Ryan shrugged and indicated two older women staring curiously at them from across the iced fish display.
"We're attracting an audience."
"Let them look." He turned and thumbed his nose toward the women, who huffed and stormed off. "They're useless bags of skin anyway. If you'd simply accept that, we could dispose of them all --well except those my people would let breed for food -- and be done with this. We'd even be willing to let you have some of the foothills for your own, for old time's sake." His voice took on a wheedling tone. "Or a forest? I'm sure you must miss the chance to flit or sip or sniff or whatever it is you do with those flowers. Besides, we know there are only about fifty of you left."
"And less than thirty of you." Ryan smiled wolfishly. "Down from an estimated two hundred and seventy a mere century ago, I believe, and dropping fast. You taught us well. You’ve made us as ruthless as you. So ruthless, that it finally appears we've surpassed you at this art of warfare." His heart sank at the underlying truthfulness of that statement. "But that's a debate for another day. Right now, let's just get this over with. The faster you leave, the better for all concerned."
"Do you have it?"
"Yes."
"Fool!" A slight finger movement and three shoppers, including the one carrying a large piece of dried codfish, suddenly surrounded Ryan. He glanced at them with open disdain, then leaned back against a counter and laughed aloud, an honest, hearty laugh and his first in many years.
"Very good! I missed them entirely. Especially, this 'young man'." He pointed to the codfish carrier. "Nice touch with that nose piercing, by the way." His tone harshened abruptly.
"But I'm also very disappointed in you. You exposed yourself prematurely. After all this time, you still think I'm the child you knew then. Remember, I had good teachers. I'm not stupid. I said I had it, I didn’t say it was on me. So if you want to be able to go before your Assembly and live, I suggest you be very, very polite and careful over the next few moments." He pointed to the three cohorts.
"I also suggest you have th…" he bit off his planned retort. "These other upstanding believers in your 'natural order', remove themselves to a safe distance from us. Preferably, far outside the market."
For a second, he believed he heard the actual gnashing of teeth and smiled broadly.
"Amazing! I didn't know you could still do that. Of course, it loses a bit of the effect since there isn’t a bridge within a mile."
"As you said earlier," the Other snarled. "I'm not here for a critique. Now, where is it?"
Ryan said nothing, merely whistled quietly till the three departed and they were as alone again as they could be in the busy market. Suddenly, he froze at a familiar voice and a sharp tug from behind.
"Hi, Mister. Remember me? Do you like my new shoes?" Jamal beamed as he held up one foot and called to his mother who stood a few feet away arguing with a fishmonger over some fillets. "Momma, look. It’s that nice man again."
She turned abruptly, saw Ryan and nodded a brief greeting.
"Jamal, don’t bother him. It’s not polite."
Ryan smiled. "Really, it’s no problem at…"
"Aren’t you going to introduce me to this scrumptious child?" the Other asked unctuously as he slid between them and grabbed Jamal’s extended foot, presumably to admire his shoe. "You know how much I love children. In fact, I just love them to death."
Jamal’s eyes widened in fear and he squirmed wildly as he saw through the spell, but he couldn’t break the vise-like grip.
"Momma, he’s the one in Grandma’s goat book."
She edged rapidly toward him. "Mister, take your hand off my son or I’ll…"
The Other blasted her with enough fear to drive her back gasping and stumbling -- aghast, at the true vision of his crimson eyes and sharpened teeth. She slumped to the floor unconscious. He laughed mirthlessly as the two older women rushed to her aid.
"Useless bags of skin helping a waste of flesh."
Ryan’s temper flared white-hot.
"Just like you. So caught up in yourself that you forget me. Hurt either of them any further and I destroy this." He pulled a computer disk from his pocket.
"You had it on you, after all?" He pulled Jamal close. "I should just kill…"
Ryan began to bend the disk.
"Stop!"
"Let the boy go. Now."
Feral cunning gleamed in the red eyes. "No. Give me the disk. Otherwise, a quick bite and he’s dead."
"Don't be so melodramatic. You're starting to sound like you are talking to a billy goat. If anyone’s dead here, it’s you and your people." He held the disk tantalizingly out of the Other's reach. "This contains most of the information you need and a map location for the…"
"What do you mean most?"
"Just what I said. I don't trust you. We don't trust you. You've never given us any reason to." He pointed to the terrified Jamal. "So, we're going to enforce this so-called peace with a bit of our own underhandedness."
"You flower sniffing piece of…"
"Careful." Ryan torqued the disk a tad. "You'll get this, the location of the keys, and access codes to the bases of the three largest bridges in the country. That'll allow you to live safely away from the increased UV rays destroying you. However, I'll, personally, keep control of the exact site information where we're releasing the ozone inhibitors. We wouldn't want you accidentally tunneling up beneath them and destroying them before their time is up. So should your Assembly happen to decide 'natural order' still demands the eradication of humanity, well… you'll go before they do."
"You… You…"
"Don't sputter. You're getting the fish -– and me -- wet." He wiped spittle spray from his face.
Spell or not, the Other’s eyes flashed a choleric ruby.
"Of all the…"
Jamal kicked with all his might, connected with the Other’s shin, and broke free. He raced behind Ryan as he would behind a shield, then peered back at the Other like he would at an attacking snake and stuck out his tongue.
The Other snarled furiously. "Look at the brat. That’s what you’re protecting? For four centuries, our peoples have declined. For four centuries, we've seen these fast breeding half-beings take over everything. Fields, forests, glades, even caves are illuminated with their atrocious lights. What's worse, not only don't they fear us anymore, they don't even acknowledge our existence! Yet, you'd side with them instead of your own?"
"You've never been my own. The only thing your people and mine have in common is longer life expectancy. As for siding with them," he tousled Jamal’s hair protectively, "I've a hunch they'll not only outlive both of us, but will produce a world of light and joy as fine as anything either of us has ever seen. Perhaps, better."
"You'll die disappointed if you believe that trash. Their own history teaches us that. They should be eradicated before they spread their filth to another planet or finish destroying this one."
"Now you're the tree saving moralist? You, who’ve killed hundreds; who killed Raindancer's soul before his body. Who'd destroy billions simply to thrill to the sound of fear in their voices as they speak of you again?" He flung the disk at him.
"Take it! But remember if we ever see or hear your people above ground again, we'll make sure it's the last you ever see of the light you're always professing to hate. Tell that to your Assembly!"
"I'll tell them." Pure hatred shone in his eyes now. "I'll also tell them that as long as I live, Ryan Morrison risks death from me."
Ryan's own eyes flashed. "Then tell them this too! If I die, so do all of you. For Windrider," he emphasized his true name for the first time in over a century, "will cheerfully carry his secrets to his death."
"You're bluffing."
"Am I?" Windrider's voice was ice as he latticed his spell. The Other's eyes widened and he scuttled back fearfully. None he knew of in his many centuries of life had ever lived to describe what he viewed now, a truly enraged elf.
"You've taught me too well how to fight; too well how to hate. You know that while you may kill me, nothing you can do will make me talk. That's why I was left alive before, not out of some misbegotten kindness, but because you hoped someday I'd make a mistake and expose the locations you're looking for."
"You're bluffing again." The Other pocketed the disk angrily, but his bluster was fading. "The UV's already strong enough to damage the very things you're supposedly protecting. You wouldn't let your favorite pets die just to stop us or to enjoy your revenge."
"They're not pets or useless bags of skin. They're very adaptable and capable beings and I've no doubt at all that even if I died this moment, they'd find a way to reverse or live with the increased radiation. Perhaps, that's an advantage to not living a half dozen centuries. As for you," Windrider stared in open disgust, "you've lost and you know it. Crawl back to the dark holes you belong in. Leave the light for those of us who hope for a brighter future rather than for a dim and never existed past."
"No matter what you think, this isn't finished."
"Oh, but it is! We both know that." Windrider pivoted to return Jamal to his mother, who now stood wearily. Then for the first time in his long life, he snapped the one slur humanity had uttered in the days of its terror at the hands of the Others and the one, which they despised above all because of its truth.
"Ugly troll!"
Copyright © 2000 by Frank Mosca
| Frank Mosca has produced and aired "The Lounge", a cult radio show hit in the L.A. area. He's published, "All American Boys", a young adult novel and has three more manuscripts ready to go. He holds master's rank in Kung Fu San Soo; has degrees in biology; and is an avid breeder of racing pigeons. | |
E-mail: bluebar@hotbot.com
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