2

Khalo sat on a pallet in a tent which had only a dirt floor, he wore only his tunic now making him feel far more relaxed without his legs so tightly bound and his arms uncovered from the arm guards. He didn't mind letting the others in the colony see his tattoo since he felt most of the replicas knew him. Dmitri had convinced him to tie up his hair like the others but he didn't intend to keep it that way long, and he was becoming more and more aware of the tightness of the ponytail binding his hair back, but in the same way "they" often tied it.

There was a fire in the center of the tent for cooking and two more near the edges of the tent for blacksmithing, all of them had vents and chimneys to keep the tent relatively cool. Khalo's deteriorated memory held many remembrances of spending hours in tents like these and he definitely felt at home in a replica camp such as this. Around the fire sat the other Alters from their group, Pos and Neg on either side of Khalo, Dmitri across from him, and Hawthorne and Rynth on either side of him, Enimsaj was not present. All those who were present enjoyed a small meal with each other as the day drew to an end. The sun set quickly and the only light in the tent was the three fires.

The meal consisted of smoked fish prepared on the fire they were sitting before. The fish had no name to the replicas, just that it was gray, had a lot of meat, and lived in abundance in the river beside the colony. Replicas living in the colony would go out right before sunset to catch one or two and cook it for dinner, any leftovers were divvied out between group members evenly for breakfast, after having been kept fresh in salt over night. The salt was bought with copper or exchanged for fish in the 4-A and B colonies to the east of the creators it was mined with other minerals mostly iron, copper, silver, garnet, and marble stone by the replicas living there. The poor state of this world was truly in a high extent.

Also in this meal were two vegetables, each Alter in their group was given a potato, and a handful of peas or beans. Each Alter cooked these to their own content but it was their custom to never eat until the meat of the meal was prepared. The potatoes were mostly cooked beside the smith fires, the searing flames were hot enough to cook the potatoes within a foot of the piles of coals. Tongs were often used to get the potatoes that close to the fire since none of them were willing to dirty their hands in the leather gloves worn during blacksmithing to protect them from the heat. Khalo found that it was the males' responsibility to handle any and all potatoes that needed to be cooked there so he spent a few moments getting to know Pos who helped alongside him, since Dmitri was no more than Khalo's toady and was far too small to handle the tongs. The beans or peas were either set in an iron casket thus close to the fire or set in a pot of water thus close. The vegetable had been bought or traded for in 5-A and B colony where the farming was done, part A of the colony were the animal farmers, while B were the produce farmers.

The groups were like families and each group lived by customary rules, the leader of the group caught the fish, the next to down and all the males prepared the rest for themselves and the younger ones. No matter how young the young ones were they were instructed to sit next to the center fire patiently the whole while that the meal was being made. From catching the fish to sitting around the fire it took about one hour and once the leader said they were going out to catch the fish, the young ones were to wash themselves in the river then sit down at the fire while the second two down and the males would finish their work for the day. This was the same in every tent. In this group of six Hawthorne was the leader, Khalo and Pos were the males, Neg and Rynth were the next two down leaving Dmitri and Enimsaj as the young ones.

The very fact that Enimsaj was not present enraged Hawthorne because it was breaking out of custom that she was not with them and it also left Dmitri alone on his pallet on the floor with no one to talk to. It seemed amazing to Khalo as he was reminded to the customs of the replicas in the colonies. Each group had a tent, the tents were all designed the same, two kilns, and a cooking fire in the center, three chimneys two out the side of the tent where the kilns were and one up the top in the center above the cooking fire. There was a pallet for each member of the group where they sat, ate, and slept, and there were storage sections in one corner of the tent to store their weapons, clothes—Khalo also found it was customary to strip down to the innermost layer upon entering the tent—and other necessities one the group. The entrance was wide to let in light during the day and to keep the tent cool during the day and the night because of the kilns. There were few shops and often the replicas would walk right into another tent to negotiate terms of their trade or purchase. Copper was the only thing used as money since silver and iron were needed for blacksmithing, rarely in other colonies would one find a silver disk to purchase.

Most of the group wore only a body suit or a tunic, Khalo found that the custom of removing most of one's clothes upon entering was because of the extreme heat inside the tent. Khalo sat on his knees, uneasily, "is it true?" he asked refusing to accept what he had just been told, "Kirow is dead?" he trembled.

Hawthorne eyed him implacably, "Again?" she wondered, "how many times to we have to remind you, he's been dead for twenty-eight collections now!" she reminded Khalo in a cruel uncaring voice,"

It was apparent that Khalo's trembling was becoming worse. Dmitri chimed in, "Hawthorne please, he just forgot again. Aren't you used to it yet? Why do you have to make it harder for him with that tone?" the statement directed at Hawthorne did more to hurt Khalo so that he struggled to fight the tears welling in his eyes.

Hawthorne cringed angrily, "it's getting ridiculous, every time he comes back to us, Khalo can't remember any of us except his own brother!" Khalo tensed at the accusation directed to Dmitri. Hawthorne bore her gaze into Khalo more frustrated than ever and cruelly in this way, "Khalo!" she demanded quickly, "Why do you always forget everything! Kirowlohin is dead! Stop taking it so hard!" she bellowed down to him from the other side of the fire.

Silently tears began to drift down Khalo's cheeks, his heads she clenched over his knees he whimpered a bit trying hard to hide it behind his bangs. "I can't forget him, I don't want to believe he's dead, so during each collection I lose myself and I forget everything wrong that has happened to the people my heart is tied to," he whispered softly through his tears.

"It's alright Khalo," Rynth offered, "Maybe if you accept it, it will be easier to let go and you won't have to be reminded of it again." Khalo stiffened, he had simply asked where Kirow was, he didn't ask for pain. It was explained to him that no one knew how Kirow died, he just stopped breathing in his sleep the one day his body disappeared, it left uncertainty to whether or not he was still alive. The other thing that bothered Khalo was that Hawthorne told him that he had been the one to find Kirow dead.

Abruptly Khalo got up and ran out of the tent, even out in the cold wearing only his tunic he ran as fast as he could to escape from Hawthorne's gaze. It was painful to him. Hawthorne got up quickly to go after him but little Dmitri stopped her, "Don't," he said softly, "He needs this…" Khalo ran hard through 9-A simply to get out and as far as he could until he could face the others again, it was embarrassing to have the tears streaming down his face in front of the others but he couldn't help it.

Finding himself outside the camp near the river Khalo paced for a while, uneasily as he was, he was aware he was becoming violent and he forced himself to sit down on the beach by the river. The sun was gone so everything was dark and the deep blue moon was the only thing to light the waters flowing in front of Khalo. The trickling inlets reached to his feet from where he sat but were slowly drawing closer as the night's tide drew in. This river was the border of the ninth colony and the border of the world he knew if only they could find a way to get across it, then they could find out how to get into the real world. Khalo knew he had tried swimming before, but to carry the necessary means of survival while trying to swim such a distance was impossible and that was the kind of "too far" that the creators banned.

Unable to cause his trembling to stop, Khalo cried silently, not even trying to hold back the tears which dripped into the water now at his waist. Kirow was Khalo's brother as was Dmitri. Though Khalo's memory often failed him, he could still visualized Kirow's light gray-blue hair, and his black eyes, his strong arms always holding onto Khalo even after he lost his memory. He was Khalo's closest friend and to realize that he was gone was worse than hard, he felt as if half of himself was gone. He conjured a visualization of Kirow before himself. The figure was tall and strong, as Kirow was, while Khalo had always been the weaker one.

"Where's Heaven?" Kirow's voice asked him. Khalo continued crying as he heard it. "Why, it's just beyond the river," Kirow answered promptly, "it's a wild place, full of excitement, it in many ways it's just like where we are now, you still need to strive, you still need sustenance, but you don't need them." Kirow sat next to Khalo in the river, "Heaven isn't a place, Heaven is Peace. The only place you can find Heaven is in Peace."

Khalo buried his face in his knees and Kirow slow wrapped his arms around his little brother, "But tell me Khalo…" Kirow asked softly into his ear, "where is Peace?"

Abruptly Khalo looked to Kirow to demand and answer but as he looked, all he saw was the endlessly flowing river. Slowly Khalo stopped crying, he was well soaked and had his hands pushed into the dirt and sand beneath the surface of the water. Another tear fell from his eyes, sparkling into the water and slashing there silently. Suddenly Khalo spotted something in the water where his tear had landed, whatever it was it was a luminous blue and brilliantly shining into his wide eyes.

In the water an image formed, the water in the center of a bright blue orb darkened then with a shine of light Khalo could see clearly the image. Again he said his like-faced mirror image, with all his opposite characteristics, this time the figure was sleeping soundly it what seemed to be the most luxurious pallet Khalo had ever seen, covers strewn about him in such a way Khalo doubted what he was seeing could ever exist. The image quickly, and as it finally vanished Khalo felt his limbs quaking.

He suddenly felt a hand touch his shoulder and looked up quickly to see Enimsaj staring down at him, but he couldn't react and before he could breathe another breath he laid back exhausted into the water splashing violently, and drowning himself as he found himself without strength. His last sight was Enimsaj crying as she hurriedly dragged him out of the river.

It took a few minutes for Enimsaj to drag him back to the tent to the others who were completing their meal and laying on their pallets around the fire. "Hawthorne, help me!" Enimsaj cried out.

Swiftly, Hawthorne got up and came to her at the entrance of the tent, "what the—" she gasped seeing Khalo's state, conscious, but barely.

"He was in the river!" Enimsaj said briefly, urgent in tone.

Dmitri got up and came over to Khalo, "No," he insisted, "he tapped into his power, Hydrokinesis. It's very straining, I know! He's just not used to it yet!" he urged Hawthorne to take Khalo to his own pallet and rest, assuring her that he'd be fine after resting. And so it was for Khalo, the long night, with his rested body laying in stillness, faded into day. Yes, it was that the night was too short once they were all asleep but as it sped past them, Khalo awoke to the sound of the breathy bellows increasing the temperature of one of the kilns.

Slowly Khalo opened his eyes after sleep to see it was Hawthorne working the bellows. She wore only a body suit and a leather apron, as well as her hair tied up tightly, but she didn't seem to notice as Khalo awoke. The others were still asleep, but the increasing heat and the approaching morning would wake them soon enough. Khalo sat up and rubbed his face, his hair was down and ragged and he quickly realized he wore nothing under the thin covers of his pallet.

Hawthorne saw him sit up, "what were you trying to drown yourself?" she remarked pessimistically, "that's the most violent reaction to finding out Kirow was dead yet, we've had to tell you so many times it ain't even funny,"

Khalo saw this tunic—a strip of dark brown fabric—hanging to dry near to all the group's belongings. He shot her a look quickly, and Hawthorne looked away focusing on the fire. Slowly Khalo drew himself out of his pallet on the floor to where his tunic hung and assured her she could look again when it was on his back.

Hawthorne put the bellows aside, and got as close as she could to the fire to see the color of the coals, "I can't believe you were lecturing me yesterday about how many folds my dagger had," She took out the tongs and an iron jar and began dropping steel pellets into it, "I'm the one who taught you and Kirow how to fold blades." She took the jar in the tongs and held it over the fire finally shooting a glance to Khalo.

Khalo tensed some at the mention of Kirow, "I guess it is that I come back to the group without knowledge that he ever died," he began wrapping the leather bands around his left arm and was relieved to see that the swelling in the enlarged vein had gone down. He fastened his belt around his waist and took up a pair of leather gloves and stepped closer to Hawthorne, "So, is there anything you need help with today?" he asked eagerly.

Hawthorne rolled her eyes, "I know you don't remember, but right before the collection you got a commission for a long sword, you should get right on it!" she insisted handing him a slip of paper written across with numbers, "here's the order,"

Now Khalo couldn't reading anything but his own name even if he wanted to but he understood numbers and patterns in them. The paper had three lines of numbers, the first line read "239675278428" this was the replica's number, the second line read "4-1-3-2000" this was the sword requested the four was the type, the one was quantity, the three was the metal type and combination, and the two thousand meant the number of folds. As Khalo read it he tensed, "who in their right mind would request a Katana like this!" he burst.

Laughing a bit, Hawthorne continued melting the metal she was working with, "you really don't remember do you, the commission was from another Alter, one that was trained for that sort of thing. It was written all over his body that he'd been manipulated for that sort of play,"

Khalo let out a heavy breath as he took up a leather apron for himself. He tied back his bangs then took the bellows Hawthorne had been using. Abruptly Khalo felt a twinge in the air below his chest and instinctively brought a hand that to stop the fist Hawthorne was sending into his stomach. He laughed with her, "I remember now, you and I," he shook his head, "tsk, we don't get along well,"

Hawthorne grinned, "Slowpoke!" she threatened.

Khalo raised the bellows as he took it with him to the second kiln, "eye patch!" he said in return.

"Memory loss!" Hawthorne barked.

"Scarface!" Khalo countered.

"Illiterate!" Hawthorne continued now focused in her work as she continued the name calling.

Khalo growled, "You are too!" he shouted as he began puffing the bellows blowing the air into the fire to make it hotter.

"Please!" Rynth demanded, "Can you two please stop," she was waking up slowly rubbing her eyes. Throwing off the covers from the immense heat, Khalo saw that Rynth wore exactly what she had worn during the day and even that wasn't much. The sun was breaking over the top in the edge of the camp slowly as the morning was drawing nearer. The life in 9-A started early and ended late with no exceptions. Rynth woke Enimsaj and the two of them quickly dressed and took off from the tent, though they lived in 9-A they worked in 9-B as seamstresses and they were gone until Hawthorne went to catch dinner.

As Pos and Neg awoke it became clear that they were more devoted to serving each other than to work near the hot kilns. Pos dressed simply in a tie and boots, taking up his weapon, then served his sister in assisting her to dress into the short frilled dress the two of them took off leaving Khalo unaware of what they were doing, he doubted that he ever knew what they did when they went off.

The day wore on as Khalo worked, his mind was fresh and new, he had a feeling he often felt like this after each time he lost his memory and had it handed back to him by his group. At dawn he stopped to eat the remains of the last night's fish by the river. He rinsed off the salt in the water briefly so some of the salty flavor he enjoyed would stay and ate it quickly, it was tough, not as good as it had been the last night and the water had did little to improve its flavor. The river water was not clean, in fact it tasted horrible but it was the only thing 9-A had to drink. The colony with all the wells of fresh spring water was the furthest from the river, the mines, and the farms 1-A and B but that was the closest to the creators and few replicas wanted to live near them so most of the replicas were Alters hired to manage it.

Khalo dealt with it alright, if the water sickened him, he'd be collected and any virus would be removed, but he's lose his memory again and be dumped out in the world with his feet as the only means to find his group again. Returning through the camp Khalo overheard some of the replicas talking about the plans for the next collection, something about having all the Alters sent to the other side of the river to carry out the creator's work. Khalo knew some Alters did that, but to think all Alters sent out on missions… what of his group? What if they were separated? What would happen to Dmitri? Khalo quickly dismissed it and hurried back to his tent, removing his leggings upon entering after having noted how much terribly hotter it was in the tent than outside. He returned himself to his apron and continued his work, sticking the fish in his mouth to suck on.

About midday when the temperatures in the tents matched those of the sun on Khalo's head, many of the replicas, including Hawthorne left their tents, and went to the river to cool off. A bucket of salt was place on the beach for more reasons than one. The replicas would swim around in the river, cooling themselves off for a few hours and pulling out anything from small shellfish to seaweed, then return to the beach, rub it in salt then eat it. A small fire was made where the replicas threw in their shellfish to burn and pulled them out this their leather gloves, rubbed the dead creature in salt then ate them in the shell. This was lunch and the break for it. It was enjoyable to Khalo as he remembered times he had spent with Kirow in the water diving for a small meal. Khalo had a feeling he often remembered this as he stared at the replicas doing it.

As the sun began to move its way west, Khalo became aware of the sweat beading his brows, raising and lowering the hammer was becoming harder and harder with each swing and every passing minute. The others turned up steadily, first Pos and Neg, then Dmitri, and finally Rynth and Enimsaj. Khalo pitied the two girls to finally return from 9-B with their bodies wearing everything article they had sewn that day. It must've been dreadfully hot to wear them on the way back because the sun would've been in their faces. 9-A was on the western side, and 9-B was on the eastern side of the colony.

Hawthorne suddenly cried out, "Alright I'm going to get the fish!" and quickly Dmitri and Enimsaj followed her to the river to wash. Khalo sighed heavily, as the tent quieted, but without Hawthorne his thoughts strayed to Kirow.

A pain grew in his heart trying to remember the last he had seen of his brother. It came to him quickly. They was walking in after a luncheon, and instead of continuing his work Kirow laid down. Khalo allowed him and continued his work, but it was hours later when Hawthorne called for the young ones to go fishing, that Khalo tried to wake him. Khalo vividly remembered now forcing Kirow from laying on his side to his back after having told him to wake up several times. Khalo remembered kneeling down and putting his ear to his brother's lips and feeling that no breaths came to them. After that Khalo couldn't see anything of it but he could feel what actions he had done even as streaming tears blocked his vision. Khalo had called for Hawthorne and was shaking Kirow violently as she returned. Hawthorne felt for his heartbeat, tried her best to make him start breathing again but he wouldn't and Khalo still felt the imaginary iron spike pierce him through the heart as Hawthorne pronounced Kirowlohin dead.

Khalo stepped away from the kiln and took his gloves off, and wiped his face of the sweat and his tears. Slowly he followed out to the river to wash himself off then returned with Dmitri and Enimsaj to sit them down. Minutes later Hawthorne arrived with two fish like she had the last night, she put them in the smoker and put the smoker over the fire, kindled in the center of the room up placing fresh wood and a coal from the kiln. On top of the kiln Khalo put a cast iron pot filled with strained river water, beans, chopped potatoes, and salt as the only seasoning for a broth to drink with their dinner. The boiled water was better for them and with the nutrients and flavors from the potatoes and beans it tasted better too.

9-A purchased bushels of potatoes, beans, and peas from 5-B enough that all each tent needed to do to get more was walk a few tents over and trade one or two coppers for enough vegetables to feed their group that night with one potato each, and a handful of beans. Khalo thought this was quite a bland diet that one could get sick of but then, he recalled that he often thought this and dismissed it as an issue.

The meal time was leisurely, the members of the group talked with each other about the day, laughed with each other some, and set their empty iron dishes next to their pallets as they laid down to sleep. Hawthorne lowered the center fire and covered the kilns so the heat would stay inside, then laid down after she was sure everyone was asleep, as was custom.

Khalo wasn't asleep, he was deep in thought, something had occurred to him that day, though he was discovering things, he realized the others already knew them and knew that he often lost his memory and was relearning everything. He must've looked like he was stuck in a big circle he was trapped in no matter what because he simply didn't know how to get out. And yet, he was happy with it, things never got boring, or bland, he loved what he did as a sword smith, and working hard felt good, even if he had some sorrows he still had peace in it.

The endless circle was what he was unused to but used to at the same time, he was comforted to think that unlike the others he'd never become worn out by doing the same thing every day, and that when he forgot about doing that and rediscovered it, it would all become interesting again. "Where's Peace?" Kirow asked. The endless circle was where he found Peace.

"Where's Heaven?"

"I'm not sure yet,"