The three women sat around the campfire in silence. The youngest, Laborer Cary, tried to appear disinterested. She leaned against a dark, dirty, cracked wall and softly petted her dog as it lay beside her, its head nestled in her lap. The Bandit sat near the fire, glancing nervously about, especially at the doorless entryways on either side of the small building; her breathing sounded labored, with a raspy slight cough at times. Aloy sat nearest the fire, taking advantage of its glow to repack her medicinal herbs and supplies and unwrap her bedcloth.
Aloy took this time to observe the two strangers.
The Bandit was older, perhaps ten years older, making her around 30. The woman's paint-smeared face look piteously sad, as if she had lost someone precious. Aloy suspected her first impression of this woman was correct – and almost always, Aloy's first impressions were correct: the woman was telling the truth. She was a prisoner of a Bandit tribe, intent on using her as a pawn as long as they held her husband and son captive – or at least as long as she thought they did. There were no sympathetic Bandits in the mountainous region that Aloy called home, and she had no reason to think the Bandits in the West were any different. She knew that this woman's family could already be dead, and the Bandits weren't about to tell her because they still needed her.
Laborer Cary was quite young, maybe 12 or 13, and immature. She clearly was not accustomed to spending time alone – or worse, with two strangers. Aloy doubted the girl would survive the night by herself, faithful dog or not. The appearance of the three Bandits had been evidence that this girl was not adept in stealth or self-defense. She called herself a Laborer, and while it was not clear just what that meant, Aloy was fairly certain it didn't mean survivalist.
Surprisingly to Aloy, Cary was the first to break the silence.
"Do you," Cary said, looking up at Aloy while still stroking her dog's head, "do you have any more water? I'm really thirsty."
Aloy sat straight and looked the girl in the eyes. "No, I'm sorry, we drank the last of it. But I can't imagine why you're out here all alone and you didn't bring water with you. Were you planning to be out this late?"
Cary looked defensive at first, then her face softened once again. She was on the verge of crying. "Well, no… um, yes, yes, I guess I did. I decided to… to leave The Bunker. For good."
"I see," Aloy answered, as she wondered how hard she could push before this girl broke down in an emotional heap. "It would have been a good idea to pack some water, and a little food, too.
"But I'm sure there must be water somewhere near here," Aloy continued as she got to her feet, lance in hand.
The Bandit spoke and Aloy stopped to listen.
"I have water," the Bandit said, not looking directly at either of the other women. "Not much, but you can have some.
"Besides, we've been raiding this area for months now, and I can tell you, there is no water within half a day's walk. Even if you found some, there's a good chance it's Radiated." The Bandit knelt toward the campfire, reached behind her back and pulled a leather strap around. Tied onto the strap was a bag, apparently made of the skin or intestines of some animal, and capped on one end. The Bandit pulled the leather strap over her head and gently tossed the bag in Cary's direction.
As the bag hit the dirt-covered floor, Cary recoiled as if it were a snake. "It's okay, I promise," the Bandit said as she watched Cary's reaction. "No tricks. It's just plain treated, pure water. That's all I have, so take it easy, don't drink all of it."
Cary stared – glared, really – at the Bandit as she leaned to her left to reach for the leather strap. Sem raised his head and watched the proceedings with a sleepy, bored look. She pulled the bag to her, removed the cap, and sniffed at the contents. After a few seconds, she took a sip, then a gulp, as she decided that the contents really were just water.
"Whoa, hold it!" the Bandit waved her arms in front of her. "Save some for us! Put the cap back on and hand it over to… to this warrior."
"Aloy."
"Paintface Killer, of the Skulldriver Bandit nation," the Bandit replied.
"Nice to meet you… Paintface," Aloy replied. "I'm guessing that's not your real name?"
"No, of course not," the woman sighed and slumped down. "I was given that name when my family and I were captured, about two years ago, and the Bandits thought I looked funny with red streaks all across my face."
"Red streaks?" Aloy asked.
"Blood," the woman replied. "We lived in a village far south of here. We left the village, the four of us, to find a better place to live. We heard about a Bunker that sounded promising, and as we met other travelers we heard stories of a walled city further north.
"But we were attacked by some kind of hideous… creatures. Not human, not animals. I was slashed by their fingernails as I tried to rescue my daughter."
"You said there were four of you, but you've only mentioned your husband and son. Did something happen to your daughter?"
"Yes," now this woman began to tear up. Aloy realized she was in the company of two very emotionally distraught people. She had long ago learned to empathize with those who have suffered, so Aloy settled in to hear their stories. It could be a long night.
"Those creatures dragged my baby away from me, ripped her out of my arms," the Bandit continued, now talking through sniffles and moments of sobbing, "Those things started to attack her even as she cried for her mommy and daddy… They crawled, or did something to get away, in the darkness, and my baby went quiet, and I could hear them making growling noises, maybe at each other, I don't know… I still hear those noises, every night!"
"You've suffered a great loss. I'm very sorry," Aloy said softly. And sincerely.
"So the Bandits named you Paintface because of the cuts on your face?"
The woman sighed and seemed to calm a bit. "Yes. A hunting party of Skulldriver Bandits arrived as the creatures took my… took her away. And the Bandits laughed. They laughed at my husband, who was hurt even worse, and at my son, who was only four years old and crying for his sister, and at me.
"Then they took us to their Tribal center and healed us. They told me my husband was too badly injured to move, but they promised they'd take care of him… if my son and I joined them as Bandits.
"What could I do?" She looked almost imploringly at Aloy, again on the verge of a crying spell, as she continued, "I had to keep my husband alive! So I agreed, and here I am, two years later, still stealing and killing for the Skulldrivers, while my son is a trained thief, and I haven't seen my husband in more than a year."
Aloy pondered this woman's story for a bit, trying to think of the right things to say. Finally she spoke.
"What did you plan to do? How are you going to find your family?"
"I… I don't know," the Bandit Paintface replied. "I guess… I guess I haven't really figured that out."
"Is there no one in your Tribe that you trust? Couldn't you ask around and see if someone can tell you where your husband and son are?"
"No, not really. The Skulldrivers are a very loyal group, and it's a very large Tribe. I can't show weakness or they beat me. The older men… they attack me and do things… I just can't trust them!"
"Alright, I think I get the picture. I know that in my homeland, there's no such thing as a 'Noble Bandit,' and that sounds universal.
"So what do you do now? I let the boy who was with you get away, and that means there'll be more from your Tribe soon. You're pretty badly hurt, you'll be considered a failure if you return emptyhanded, and I don't plan to surrender to Bandits any time soon."
"Well, I… forgive me, I'm just thinking of this now… you're a very strong warrior, Aloy, and I think you'd make a great Bandit. I don't mean… not a real Bandit, you know, but if we got you the right clothes and cut your hair and gave you some facepaint… you could fit right in with the Skulldrivers. You could find my family, I'm sure of it!"
"You want me to pretend to be a Bandit, stroll right into a den of killers, and just start snooping around? Sorry, that sounds like a terrible plan."
"No, it would work, I'm sure of it! Look, we could do it this way: you go back with me, disguised as a rogue Bandit, and I tell the Tribe how you saved my life and that you want to join the Skulldrivers. Sure, they'll watch you for a few days, and they won't send you on any hunting parties at first. But once you show them what you can do with your lance, they'll have to start trusting you! Before your first hunting, you'll be more welcome than I ever was.
"To the Tribe, I am an outcast, and I always will be."
Those final words struck a chord with Aloy. She had grown up an outcast, raised by a man who was also outcast for the simple reason that he had once violated tribal laws – to hunt down a group of vicious killers and kidnappers. Aloy had been born an outcast, because she was not a native Nora villager, but instead an orphan of unknown heredity. She knew what it was to be unwelcome in your own homeland.
But she was still not thrilled with this Bandit's proposal.
Second Class Laborer Cary broke the silence. "You'd be welcome in The Bunker, Aloy." Cary glanced at the Bandit. "Especially if you let them know you hunt and kill Bandits."
"I don't 'hunt and kill Bandits'," Aloy replied rather brusquely, "unless they've done something to deserve it.
"But tell me, why should I visit The Bunker?"
"Oh, it's a marvelous place. We – they – have learned to survive in this terrible world, thanks to the miracles of the Elders who watch over them."
"What does that mean? Who are the Elders?" Aloy had yet to really trust this young girl, and her statement sounded like so much more falsehood. Still, she recalled a time not long ago when someone else referred to the Old Ones – those who lived almost a thousand years ago – as the Elders. Was that what the girl meant?
"No, the Elders are not alive," Cary explained, "but The Bunker was built by the Elders so that civilization could have a place to survive. Automatic devices provide air and food, and mostly water – but that device has started to break down so they have to go looking for water – and there is The Locker! I've never seen The Locker – it's not for Laborers like me, it's reserved for the General and her Officers – but I hear it's full of knowledge about the Elders!"
The last statement piqued Aloy's interest. This girl may be lying, or at least exaggerating, but if what she says about the knowledge of the Elders – and if the Elders are indeed the same as the Old Ones whose knowledge she seeks – is just a little bit true, it's worth learning more. She decided to probe to find out what this girl was about.
"You haven't told us much about yourself, Cary – is it okay to call you that, or do I need to say 'Laborer Second Class Cary' every time? – if that Bunker is so wonderful, why are you running away from home?"
"Because –" the girl began to tear up and her voice faded once again "—it's the General. I want to be with... with the man I love. He's a Guard, so General Maryon says I can't.
"And yes, just Cary is okay."
"'Be with?'" The Bandit Paintface joined in the conversation. "Did you break some taboo in your Tribe?"
"WE ARE NOT A TRIBE!" Cary turned toward Paintface: even in the fading fire behind her, it was obvious that Cary's face was red with anger as she shouted those words. "Tribes are uncivilized savages! We are a STATE! We are the most advanced people in the entire world!"
"Hmmm…" Paintface sounded bemused. "Sure sounds like a tribe to me. Heck, even my Tribe allows marriages between consenting partners, no taboos preventing it. Your advanced STATE sounds awfully backwards."
Cary began to cry loudly now. "You don't understand… Laborers live in Sector 3 and we can only marry other Laborers. Guards live in Sector 2 and they can only marry Guards. But Hestor and I met by mistake and we love each other and we want to be together, and when the General found out she assigned Hestor to patrol the Radiated City which means he's going to get the Sickness and die, and we can't even talk to each other! I don't want to live there anymore!"
"Okay," Aloy spoke calmingly, "I think I get the picture. You chose to run away but didn't think about what that meant, and here you are, not ready to be a runaway.
"I have a suggestion, Cary. Please hear me out. Okay?"
Cary seemed to nod agreement, but in the low light Aloy wasn't quite certain, so she waited for the girl to regain composure. Finally, Cary whispered a tentative "Okay."
"Alright, here's what I suggest: I talk to your General. Now I know, she's following some internal law that says you and your lover can't be together. But maybe if an outsider talks to the General, she – it is a 'she,' right? – she will listen.
"Especially – and this is hard to think about right now – if you go with me."
"NO!" Cary shouted tearfully. "I ran out, I abandoned my duties, I let my entire Sector down. They can have me whipped, or jailed, or even killed for what I did!"
"A child running away from home," Aloy saw a noticeable cringe from Cary when she said the word "child," "is not worthy of such harsh treatment. Again, maybe with me there, they won't get so mad. I swear I will do all I can to protect you.
"You're hungry and thirsty, you're in dangerous territory with Bandits roaming the area," she glanced at Paintface and smiled, hoping the Bandit caught the smile, "you won't last another day by yourself. You must have family that's missing you by now –"
"Sector 3 is my family. My father and mother are there, and my brothers and sisters, but we are all part of the Laborers. My parents are First Class, I'm Second Class, my younger brother is Third Class, so we hardly ever talk. I have been assigned a husband from the Second Class rank, that's the law, but I have to wait three more years before we can begin a family.
"And I don't love him. I love Hestor, but he's a Guard Second Class, Sector 2."
There was a period of silence, punctuated only by the faint crackling of the dying fire and panting of the dog Sem. Aloy had the chance to realize that she was exhausted – both physically and mentally – after a very long day and night, capped off by listening to confessions from a Bandit and a runaway.
Among her many attributes, Aloy was endowed with a very special gift: empathy. On many occasions in her young life, she had gone out of her way to help others, and she knew she was about to do it again.
She just wasn't sure how, yet. And there was no hope in trying to figure out why.