Far to the south, far past the horizon many times over, lay an unspoiled beach. The only sound in the air was the unending susurrus of the breakers expiring on the broad firm plane of sand rising from the sea. The last of the ocean's momentum strained for and failed to reach the high line of brown-black seaweed and driftwood deposited by countless high tides. So ancient was the wreckage that the ground rose many feet behind the natural seawall, before the dunes began. Further in, sea oats and other hardy plants were the first claims upon the land, followed by fields of tough-skinned grasses and other plants that could tolerate the salty soil.
That view ran to the horizon, a vast view of emptiness and insignificance. This is what Zero-B surveyed from the top of a rocky ridge that had broken through the soil. There was no trace of human impact upon this land, not a trail, tire track, or a single footprint. She consulted her map again, and again verified that this was the target. She could not however, discern the significance of this place.
[Control, unit Zero-B has reached the target. Awaiting further orders.]
[Roger. Standby for satellite recon information. End.]
Zero-B stood at full attention on the small outcropping and surveyed the land surrounding her with a raptor's eye. The presence of her operator commanded flawless performance and execution. If she could detect the objective before being told, it might win her some rare praise. For all her concentration on the landscape, Zero-B paid just as much attention to the sacrosanct channel linking her to Control. Though this was far removed from both railroads and farms, Zero-B scanned the horizon for any vehicular dust plumes and listened. The bandits were out there somewhere. Her thoughts as silent as her surroundings, Zero-B continued searching while the minutes trickled past.
[Zero-B.]
[At your command.]
[Target is approximately two point four kilometers at twenty degrees north-northwest. Acquire visual immediately. End.]
[By your command.] Silence filled the channel and Zero-B set out at a steady run in the direction specified. As she ran, she noticed that the target lay in the direction of the congregation of seagulls. The distance to the target shortened quickly and soon Zero-B was no longer running on rocky soil, but through the soft sand of the beach and along the shore. Once she saw it she stopped running and slowed to a cautious walk.
The seagulls had indeed shown her way to the target and even they seemed reluctant to approach it. The birds cried out as they flew, circling the large dark mass lying on the beach. One end of the thing lay in the surf and the main body of it stretched inland, all the way up to the loose sand and plants making it at least forty meters in length from end to end. Ridges of sand had collected around the perimeter of the thing, so it must have come to rest some time ago. As she came closer to it, she noticed that beneath the scent of salt lay another of decay.
[Halt, Zero-B.]
Zero-B obeyed and magnified her view to continue examining the target. Flies could be seen alighting on the desiccated hide, which had a faint pattern of darker ovals on the charcoal-colored skin. The narrow end that lay in the surf appeared to be tightly segmented for articulation and the tall caudal fin rose from the shallow water. Zero-B reviewed the segmented tail and then the wrinkled skin of the main body; it did not make sense.
[Unknown species,] Zero-B reported. [What was that, Zero-B?]
[The morphology of this creature references multiple orders of marine animals.]
[Explain.]
[The main body is covered with a skin normal for marine mammals, the segmented tail is similar to that of arthropods, while the caudal fin is of a fish's anatomical structure, Command. End.]
There was a pause at the higher end of the channel. [How do you know this Zero-B? Such information is not included in your databanks.]
[Field experience,] Zero-B answered evasively. She thought that mentioning the encyclopedias would invite a dangerous line of questioning.
[Hm. Continue surveillance. End.]
Zero-B enabled her passive thermal imaging to better examine the target and her vision was painted in a false palette. The target was colored by a cooler band of colors, almost as cold as the seawater adjacent, signifying no internal activity. She disengaged the filter and waited for further instruction.
The minutes passed as she waited and the seagulls requested her attention. A few continued to fly above the carcass, cawing loudly, but most of the flock had congregated near the cliffs behind her. The carcass seemed to agitate the birds still aloft, as sometimes one would land near it, only to take to the air again after a few pensive steps. Zero-B squinted to focus on the birds' behavior; it was not normal. According to the information of the encyclopedia, seagulls favored the ease of scavenging over hunting, but these birds would not approach the carcass. Zero-B thought to mention this oddity to Control, but decided it was of insufficient importance.
[Permission requested to activate ultrasonic imaging.]
[What? Oh, Zero-B. Repeat.] Zero-B repeated her request and Control responded in a disinclined tone. [System support will be allocated to unit Zero-B for fifteen seconds. Make it worthwhile, Zero.]
[Understood.] Zero-B checked that her throat was clear, activated her transducers, and then reported, [Unit ready.]
[Initiating ultrasonic imaging.]
After a fraction of a second delay, bolts of pain shot up from the receivers in Zero-B's throat and she grunted as her hands instinctually went to protect her throat. Her modified vision pulsated in time with the surges of pain and she closed her eyes against it, but the assault continued. [Control! Error!] she managed to report.
Unhurriedly Control responded, [Run auto-diagnostic IS-537.]
Through the debilitating pain, Zero-B obeyed, but the cause of was not found.
Upon receiving the diagnostic results, Control replied, [So it's not you, huh? Checking . . .]
Zero-B bore through the staggering pulses in silence but began to sag from the exertion.
[Hm. This interference is quite similar to the sonic frequency and types used for obsolete submarine sonar. That's a bit odd. Compensating . . ."
The interference and with it the pain disappeared and Zero-B was able to stand upright again and open her eyes. Still in the wake of the assault, Zero-B did not immediately recognize what she saw. Her ultrasonic imaging was still in effect and falsely colored all of her vision in shades of blue. The whitest tints of blue correlated to low density and were the color of sea foam and clumps of seaweed, while rich, deeper blue denoted denser objects, such as the boulders and rocks in the area. This she understood, but the target was not properly colored according to the color scheme. It was a midnight black, far below the ordinary spectrum. Before Zero-B could alter the pulse to probe deeper within the target, the supporting link was cut and her vision returned to normal.
It was then that she noticed the target was beginning to move. A loud sucking sound could be heard as it pulled itself free of the sodden sand that had partially buried it. With primal lurches, more and more of the creature appeared from beneath the sand, surpassing Zero-B's initial estimate of its size. Thick legs appeared from beneath to lift the great weight clear of the sand and the creature wavered for a moment, then leaned close to the ground.
Zero-B took a step away from the waking creature. [Control?]
[Standby for orders.]
The entire creature shook as it began to vomit. Copious amounts of dark fluids spilled from its mouth and ran down the beach to mingle with the jetsam. The torso repeatedly contracted violently to expel the semi-solid waste and for many seconds that was all it did, disgorging upon the sand.
The higher end of the Tuned channel remained silent throughout this spectacle.
When it finally finished, the creature lifted itself up to stand properly on its rear legs and Zero-B could see the underbelly, where alien structures were amassed. Those and the legs it stood upon convinced Zero-B that this was no creation of Nature.
Long dark strands of saliva still hung from the mouth lined with narrow carnivorous teeth as the head turned to face her. Zero-B could not see any eyes, but knew it could sense her presence. A hissing exhalation escaped its mouth, expelling gobs of spittle and the hissing became stronger, then deteriorated into a low bass growl. The growl was punctuated by coagulating coughs and Zero-B realized it was attempting to speak.
In a guttural voice the beast spoke, "You are a child of Melchizedek, are you not?"
Mention of the sacred name brought Zero-B to full alert. Such information was strictly forbidden to all earthbound and violation was punishable by immediate death. Poised to attack, Zero-B did not answer the beast but instead called out to the heavens for guidance. [Control?]
The channel was polluted by static, a rare occurrence. [Standby for orders.]
The creature stepped to face her fully. "So you are the ambassador sent to receive me. How fitting."
"You are in violation of Factory law! Identify yourself!" demanded Zero-B.
"Of course, I am the herald of the magnificent Lord Oda, Master of the South."
Almost before it had finished speaking, Control broke in an alarmed voice bound by cables of static. [Zero-B! That is an enemy of the Factory and Tiphares!] The transmission was buffeted by the increasingly strong swells of static. [--not permit it to contact Farm . . . penetrate further inland. Do not destroy it! . . . iority to capture the target! Copy?]
The channel was flooded with a dissonant squelch before Zero-B could reply and the link was lost.
The creature spoke to her via the restricted airwave. [You are not my host but my intended executioner? What pathetic opposition you are.]
"Interception, interference with, and unauthorized use of Factory frequencies is violation of Factory law!" Zero-B declared out loud.
"The Factory rules here? That is provident. All of this land will come to serve my Lord and you shall be the first subject." At that, the beast took off at a lurching gallop, straight for unit Zero-B. Though the ground shook threateningly with the powerful impact of each stride, Zero-B calmly set into a stance and ground her feet into the sand. The gap between them shrank rapidly as the behemoth galloped straight for the small antiquated android. At a distance of thirty meters, Zero-B launched herself, gouts of sand exploded from her hammering footfalls. A wicked claw shot out to rend Zero-B, but she leapt and a fan of sand was sent upward as the claw found nothing. Carried by her momentum, Zero-B sailed over its arm and head and brought all of her power to bear in the palm of her hand as she buried the concussive force of Hertza Haeon into the beast's skull. A flex of her fingertips catapulted her into the air again and she landed in the sand behind the creature.
As soon as she landed, Zero-B was forced to cartwheel backwards as the broad tail swung for her. It plowed into the sand and sent many hundred pounds of it into the air. Her retreating cartwheels brought Zero-B a fair distance away from the beast, which was now fully turning around. It left itself open to attack as it turned about, but Zero-B paused and the sand rained down on her. The joints of her arm had been painfully compacted by the blow she had delivered and as the beast turned around, she watched for the damage she had dealt it. The head swung around to find her and the broad forehead was undamaged, unblemished. Instantly, she reviewed the execution of her attack. It had been perfect, yet ineffective. The beast's brain should have been liquefied or at least suffering from massive hemorrhaging. It was then that Zero-B remembered the imaging data, that the creature was immeasurably dense. The compression of her right arm now made sense and she lead with her left as she prepared to renew her attack.
The loose sand was not to her advantage so she strode over to the harder beach, keeping her eyes on the beast as she did so. With a glance, she identified the optimal path to her objective, to immobilize the creature. With a small hop, Zero-B set off running down the firm beach, increasing her speed as she ran parallel to the surf, towards the right of the beast. Cloak whipping behind her in the wind of her run, Zero-B turned hard, cleaving the sand and launched herself at the beast.
It responded with a broad palm ringed with razor-sharp talons rushing to meet her. Zero-B caught one of the broad digits and swung past the claw and released, now a missile aimed for the brute's inner ankle. Her body was locked in-line with the trajectory, a single missile. Zero-B's locked feet collided with the inside of the beast's ankle, stopping her dead as all of that force was transmitted to the vulnerable joint.
Zero-B commanded her legs to obey and lift her, shaky as they were from the impact. The ankle had not budged, had not yielded, had not even deformed from the force of her blow. It had been like . . . hitting steel with a fist of flesh. Rather than incapacitating her enemy, it was Zero-B whose ankles were failing. This realization took all of a millisecond before Zero-B formulated a secondary attack and glanced up to set herself for another attack. The beast had only just begun to turn. She reached all the way back and drove her fist into the weak groin between leg and pelvis with all the force she could muster. Immediately an alarm flashed on her internal display. "Longitudinal hairline fracture detected in left radius. Repair advised." Again, her attack had been ineffective and Zero-B was forced to dart out from beneath the belly of the creature as claws that rent the sand in search of her.
The beast retrieved its claw and regarded the empty palm for a moment, before lifting its head to look at her. "You cannot harm me with such primitive attacks, I who have withstood the crushing embrace of the great oceans."
Zero-B did not need it to tell her of her impotence and rather than respond, she hailed her handler again. [Control? 'Panzer' tactics deemed ineffective. Permission requested to disengage and retrieve armaments. End.] Only the dissonant squeal answered her and she released the channel. The creature began taking steps towards her and Zero-B backed away, delaying in hopes that the link to her controller would clear, but the gulf of static did not abate. It took considerable effort to hide her unsteadiness with each step.
The beast continued speaking. "My design is an example of the unparalleled wisdom and foresight of great Lord Oda. As I am fashioned well, so does my master value me. Submit to perchance receive his favor and bask in his glory."
For the immeasurable instant it took for electrons to whip through her neural network at the speed of light, Serobi considered the creature's offer and for the first time, she answered the intruder, declaring, "Unit Zero-B exists only to serve and enforce the will of Tiphares!"
The creature paused before her declaration. "Then you shall cease to exist," was all that it said before lunging for her, lethal talons seeking. Zero-B dove beneath; so close overhead passed the blades that she felt a quick yank as her cloak was torn free. She hit the sand and tumbled but before completing the roll, thrust herself upward in a steeple kick aimed for the last vulnerable spot beneath its head. It must have perceived her attack, for it aggressively drove its chin down, slamming Zero-B into the sand.
Only the yielding bed of sand kept Zero-B from being knocked unconscious by the terrific blow and she struggled not to be crushed beneath the massive weight that shut out all the light around her. "Hnnngh." The sound of sand grating beneath the pressure and her own efforts was loud in her ear as she resisted, but she could not slow the crush. Forced deeper, water began to seep into the cavity and Zero-B fought harder to escape, but it was futile. She had no room to fight back; she was being flattened between two unrelenting planets.
"Warning. Exceeding maximum load limits."
Her left forearm trembled and with a distinct crack buckled and began to deform. "Failure of left radius detected." The saline water began to pool around her body.
Suddenly, the darkness and crushing pressure exploded away, replaced by blinding light and freedom. Then a great claw seized her and lifted her into the air and she was inches from its face as it examined her. The keen talons that held her cut through her clothes and suit and etched angry furrows in her armor plating.
The beast quit examining its captive and lowered her as it began to walk inland, away from the beach. Carrying her along, it strode over the scraggly bushes and rocky ground, up the sloping ground towards the seaward cliff. Zero-B knew she had to stop it and struggled hard against her bonds, but could not free herself. It took a Herculean effort just to shift her body within the steel straitjacket, an inch at a time, but she persevered. Her broken arm grated unpleasantly during the effort and feeling in her hand began to fade as increasingly more neural connections were severed, but she had to escape.
The beast finally heeded her efforts as it neared the top of the cliff and mercilessly squeezed her. The talons bit deeper into her armor and Zero-B fell limp as she felt many internal seals and organs rupture and bleed. Only the numerous alarms flashing in her skull prevented her from losing consciousness.
The beast stopped and lifted her before it again, her slack legs dangling over the water below. It addressed her, "You are nothing more than the most insignificant pebble in my Lord's path, but as nothing must be left to challenge his way, so shall you be cast aside."
The world whipped into an unrecognizable blur as Zero-B was accelerated and hurled bodily into the air. For a moment, the ironclad angel flew, arcing through the sky as shredded plumage trailed her flight, but past the peak of her flight, she tumbled earthward where no earth waited to receive her, only the dark blue of the sea.
Zero-B hit the surface with a terrific splash, a blow that was merciful compared to the brutality of the beast's attack. Before the gout of water caused by her crash had even fallen, she was already sinking swiftly. Bubbles trailed her rapid descent and as the surface receded rapidly. Seen through increasingly more seawater, the white sunlight dimmed and the pressure began to mount as the servant sank. Fewer and fewer weak shafts of sunlight filtered through the greater depths and Zero-B reached for one, but it escaped her grasp. Finally the pressure became too much and her external seals failed and seawater penetrated her core. As though she was not aware of the chill invading her body, multiple alarms warned her of imminent failure. A flood of electricity escaped her body into the ocean and her consciousness flickered. The last thing she knew before the darkness completely took her was, "I've failed."
The last traces of her passage disappeared from the ocean's surface that continued to undulate with each passing wave, indifferent to the life just lost in its depths. The beast watched the spot on the surface where she had sank, a few hundred meters out to sea, for only a moment. It then turned a few arc-seconds to face the point on the horizon from whence it had come. It paused for a moment to revel in this intoxicating moment. For months it had tirelessly and unremittingly labored towards its goal and had much further to go yet, but already the prophecies of Lord Oda were being fulfilled and this creature was partaking of that glory. Already the treacherous empire of the north was falling away before the advance of Oda's kingdom.
The ground trembled under the beast's ponderous footsteps as it turned to face inland. There was no sign of it at this distance, but in the direction in faced, past interminable miles of desert scrub, rock, and sand lay Tiphares, its ultimate target. There would the greatest triumph be realized. Before that though . . . it looked south along the coast, where it could hear traces of radio chatter and smell a melange of scents spawned by imperfect combustion. There was a city in that direction.
The video feed showed only a mash of static and the accompanying audio was nothing more than white noise. Below that terminal was the core monitoring system that relayed detailed information about every aspect of a Tuned agent. This sub-system had proven immune to the interference that had interrupted communications with unit 0-B, but it too offered no proof of her continued existence. All of the common signals and identifiers were absent. The mission clock showed that one hundred minutes had elapsed since all trace of unit 0-B had been lost and the G.I.B. handler logged the time of termination, sighing pleasurably as she did.
Sharon, one of the other handlers leaned around the corner to pry. "What is it, Gloria?"
Gloria smiled a small smile. "Let's just say we won't be interrupted anymore," she replied slyly.
Sharon noticed the inactive monitoring system of 0-B and her eyes grew wide. "You mean . . . ?" she began to ask in an excited whisper.
Gloria nodded.
Sharon's smile grew and she gave her a thumbs-up. "That's terrific! Oh! That means you've won the pot too!" She glanced around to see if anyone else was listening. "So take me out to eat tonight. Steak!" Sharon then ducked behind the partition between their workstations, before Gloria could object. Sharon's silliness did little to mar Gloria's good mood and it was with distinct relish that she began filling out a Factory Property Loss form. Normally days of silence would have to pass before a Tuned unit was given up for lost, but the prototypes were hardly in the same category, and so their termination timetables were much shorter. All of the other prototype units had had enough good grace to fail after just a few months of field service, if not during testing, but this last unit had had the strange luck to survive time after time. Today though, that luck had run out, and not too soon either. Gloria's patience for baby-sitting the inferior agent had just about ran out.
As she leaned over to turn off 0-B's monitoring system, Gloria noticed more than one head peeking around or over a cubicle wall. As soon as she looked up, the other handlers began to clap unabashedly and Gloria blushed, embarrassed. Sharon ducked back behind the wall before Gloria could assign her with the blame for spreading the news so quickly. Gloria attempted a seated bow for the praise of the other handlers.
"That'll be enough of that," cut one masculine voice through the applause, which ceased immediately as each hurried back to her work. Gloria straightened and did the same. She did not need to look to know that the Chief had left his office and was headed her way, only listen to his approaching footsteps.
In the corner of her eye, a hand appeared on the edge of her desk and she could feel the weight of his other on the back of her chair. The way he leaned close would have led Gloria to think he had ulterior motives, if she hadn't known better.
"Good job," he said quietly.
"Thank you sir," she responded. Her data entry did not slow and wouldn't, not unless he told her to stop. Neither did she look away from her screen to make eye contact.
"Transfer the mission to AR-8 without delay."
"Yes sir."
He left without saying anything more and when his office door closed behind him, the entire room collectively relaxed.
If Gloria had been pleased before, she was positively delighted now, though she gave no outward sign aside from the pleased smirk she wore. That the Chief had chosen her unit to receive this mission was a sign of favor. Gloria appreciated the AR unit she was responsible for, in the manner one might a faithful trained dog. Unit 8's performance was an extension of her own as a handler and so she had an invested interest in it. The better it performed, the greater her reward. The other handlers regarded their charges in a similar manner, to some extent. This had not been the case with 0-B, the last of the prototypes, which was more like a stray cur that no one cared for, likewise passed from master to master when one tired of it. No matter how much neglect or abuse it received from its hostile masters, it never failed to return with its tail curled under, submissive, worthless, and despised.
As soon as she finalized the unit's termination, she forgot about it and transferred the mission data to her main workstation. Into her headset she spoke, "AR-8, disengage and standby for new orders."
Aric frowned at the untouched page of his workbook. The problems were about fractions and he hated fractions. He hated math too. School as well. In fact, now that he thought about it, he didn't like being at home much either. Especially not when his mom was in a bad mood like she was today. He glanced up at her, reading her book at the kitchen table. She was reading her book, but he had to do homework. That wasn't fair at all.
Aric glared at the math problem, as if he could bully the answer out and sat in a quiet, moody clump on the sofa. His mother looked up from her reading. "If you need help, I'm right here."
Aric sighed in exasperation, as if the interruption had broken his thought. "Mo-oom, I'm trying to think."
"Bad company is no company at all, I say. If you're gonna be moody, you can do it in your room."
Aric threw his arms up in the air dramatically and then went about closing his book and leaving the room with great exaggeration. She always said it was him being moody, when really it was her.
He swung the door closed behind him and dropped his workbook to the floor. He kicked it too, but it only tumbled across the floor, fluttering in an unsatisfying manner. Without an audience, his bad mood eased a bit and Aric crossed the room to sit down where his workbook had wound up and opened it to the homework assignment.
About six problems later, he heard the bedroom door open behind him and he twisted around to see his mom poking her head in through the doorway.
"Can I come in?" she asked.
"Yeah."
She opened the door fully and entered. Picking her way through the floor littered with toys and dirty clothes, she sat down on Aric's bed, which was just as cluttered. "How's it coming?" she asked, nodding at his workbook.
"It's okay," Aric answered, leaning back from his homework.
His mother nodded. "I was kind of lonely today, you know. I went to the dry goods store on my own, cleaned the house on my own, and then when my friend came back, he was unhappy. But the worst part was that he didn't tell me what bothered him. I thought we were better friends than to keep secrets from one another."
"I'm sorry," Aric said sheepishly. He didn't meet her gaze though. She shook her head. "No, you don't have to apologize. What would really help is if you would talk to me."
Slowly, Aric looked upwards, then away as soon as he saw her honest, trusting expression. He shifted uncomfortably. She waited as he came around. "Well . . . one of my friends made me mad."
"What did they do?"
"They said something mean."
"They did?"
"Yeah."
"Who was it?"
"I can't tell you. I promised I wouldn't tell."
"Oh?" She said, sitting up straighter. "Wasn't it Ganbe or Tillean? You always fight with Tillean."
"No, it wasn't him."
"Someone else then?"
"Yeah."
"I won't ask you to break your promise, but can you tell me what they said?"
" . . . That I have to stay here on the Farm my whole life."
"What a weird thing to say. Is that why you're upset?"
Aric nodded slowly.
"If you do well in school, you'll be smart enough to do anything you want and go anywhere you want when you grow up."
"That's what I told her, but she didn't believe me."
"Perhaps she was brought up differently. I don't think she meant to be mean."
"Maybe . . ." Aric acceded.
His mother rose from the bed and came over to rub the top of his head. "If you keep up your homework, you'll be able to prove her wrong though, won't you?"
Aric smiled. It was his first in hours, which made it feel all the more warm. "Yeah," he answered as he smoothed his ruffled hair.
"Okay." She began making her way out of the room, negotiating carefully so as not to trip or step on anything.
"Mom?" Aric called out as she reached the door.
"Yes?" she replied, with the doorknob in her hand.
"Do I have to do the whole chapter?"
She smiled also. "No. Finish that page and then come get some dessert."
Aric nodded in agreement and went back to his studies, in a much better mood than before.
Weighted down with lethargy, the beast moved imperceptibly. The chilled morning air carried little smell or sound to it. The scent of urbanization that it had detected yesterday was only a memory now, but it knew the town could not be far away.
The beast currently lay in a shallow arroyo still full of shadows lingering from the night before. As the sun rose, the desert landscape grew brighter, but for now, only the crest of the beast's back was sunlit. As an exothermic creature, the onset of the cold night had forced it to a stop. Unlike the waters of the ocean that stayed a relatively constant temperature, this arid desert air changed temperature so quickly and drastically that the beast had been effectively immobilized.
So for now it lay unmoving in a small rift in the ground, surrounded by sharp rocks and thorny plants. The heat pits in its lower jaw sensed that the air and surroundings were too cold to support it, but the encouragingly warm eddies of air were beginning to waft into this cavity. From the small patch of sunlight on its back, the beast could feel warmth beginning to spread through its body.
Temporarily confined to this stupor, the beast could do little more than look and listen. There was one aspect of the desert vista that continued to attract the beast's attention. Through the opening at the end of the arroyo the beast could look out onto the valley floor as it extended towards the mountains. Through that gap, it could see a broad array of pale shapes in the distance. As the sunlight had gradually crept across the desert landscape and that congregation, glints of metal and glass had caught the beast's eye. It was so tantalizingly close that the beast tried again to move, but it could not. Yet.
The main room of the schoolhouse was long, along one side was nothing but bookshelves, the school library, and windows above that. Of the thirty desks in the room, only ten were occupied. The teacher, Ms. Forester, was at the blackboard, drawing a picture of the rain cycle.
" . . . And when the clouds get full of water, what happens?" she asked with chalk paused, after having drawn the cloud.
"It rains!" answered many of the students.
"Right," replied the teacher as she began drawing the rain falling from the cloud. "But what happens if it's really cold?"
There was a slight pause before a girl answered, "It-It's hail instead?"
"That's right, Mariana." Or it can be snow too, sometimes." The children nodded slowly. The textbook said as much, but they had never seen snow for themselves. "How about sleet? How many of you know what sleet is?"
Mariana was the only one to raise her hand, but lowered it when she saw that she was the only one.
"Sleet is when it rains, but the rain turns to ice as soon as it touches something," instructed Ms. Forester.
Many hands shot up into the air.
"I remember now!"
"I know what sleet is!"
"I knew that!"
"I know too!"
"Good," said the teacher as she nodded with approval. "There is one word that describes all of these," she continued, turning to face the blackboard again. She wrote the word 'Precipitation' next to the rain. "Precipitation includes rain, snow, sleet, anything that falls from the sky."
"And ash too?" asked one boy who had his hand up.
"Ash?"
"Yeah, you know, from when they burn the sugarcane at Farm 5."
"Oh. No, that's not precipitation."
"But it 'evaporates'," he replied, using one of the newly learned words.
"Mm, kind of, but precipitation has to be made of water."
"What about fish?" asked Tillean without raising his hand.
"Fish don't come from the sky," answered a classmate.
"Yes they do," Tillean defended. "My dad says he's seen it."
"You're lying."
The teacher broke in. "Frei, I don't allow that kind of talk in my classroom. Now apologize."
"I'm sorry," said the boy in a cowed manner.
"That's better. Neither of you are lying. Like Tillean said, sometimes fish do fall from the sky, in very special cases, but that isn't precipitation, like Frei said."
The classroom became much more animated upon hearing this fantastic concept.
"What if sharks fell down on us? Chomp!" one boy said to another.
"What about flying fish?" one asked the teacher.
"Where do they come from?" asked another.
One boy seated near the windows leaned from his desk to look out and up at the sky, on the lookout for falling seafood.
"Shhhh," said Ms. Forester, gesturing for the class to quiet down. "Like I said, it only happens in very special cases, and only with very little fish. Now, we need to finish our picture of the water cycle. So what do we call it when it doesn't rain for a very long time?"
"Drought!" answered the class in unison, except for one. As Farm children, they had heard that word many times before.
The one student that had not answered had also not been participating all day. He sat doodling on the back cover of his workbook, detached from the class discussion. Aric turned his pencil around to erase the smile from the person he had drawn and replaced it with a straight line for the mouth. Though it lacked expression, this looked more like her. He then drew only one ear and her cloak, though it looked more like a cape, the way he drew it. Aric sighed and his pencil paused.
This morning he had left the house early to stop by the shack in the grove. He had wanted to apologize for yesterday, when he had gotten mad and hit her. The new sun had yet to emerge above the trees and the leaves were still cool and damp when he had arrived. The shack had been quiet and empty. Aric knew that Serobi was good at hiding, but after looking for her all over the area for almost ten minutes, he had given up, concluding that she wasn't there. All that he had found was the chick, lying quiet, silent, and cool to the touch. He didn't want to tell Tillean about it yet.
Aric had the bad feeling that Serobi had left, compounded by the thought that he might be guilty of sending her away. He hadn't found the books, which he took as a sign that she might still be somewhere around here, but she might've taken them also. He didn't want her to go. The possibility that she might have made him feel even worse about how he had acted yesterday. He didn't think he had hurt her feelings, since she never smiled or frowned, but maybe he had.
Aric fidgeted in his chair and looked up at the clock. It was close to eleven-thirty, but lunchtime seemed an eternity away. He could all to easily imagine Serobi, hurt by what he had done, waving goodbye to the Farm and walking into the desert. She was homeless; it would be easy for her to leave. He didn't want to be the reason she left. Serobi didn't know that he had to go to school during the day, so maybe she thought that he was avoiding her. He should have told her about that. Aric squirmed in his seat. Each minute he was here was another minute that she could be getting farther away. And if she were really gone, Aric had the feeling that she would never come back.
The bell rang tiredly and everyone in the room turned to look at the clock.
"Okay then, it's lunchtime," announced the teacher, though many of the children had taken the bell as their dismissal and were already out of their desks before she had finished speaking. They went to their cubbyholes in the back of the room to retrieve their lunches while those who had lunch money instead lined up at the door, looking anxiously to Ms. Forester. She was unhurriedly putting on her jacket and collecting her purse from her desk. Then she went to where the kids were waiting and motioned for the lingering students to fetch their lunches and leave the room.
Ms. Forester and the children with lunch money went down the sidewalk outside of the classroom to exit through the main gate and cross the street to the store, leaving the other kids to eat or play in the yard. Many simply dropped their lunches on or near the sidewalk as they ran to grab a select seat on the playground equipment. Some though, mainly girls, appropriated a picnic table to begin their midday meal.
Aric carried his lunch and nudged some of those on the sidewalk aside so that he could sit down on the edge. With little interest, he began opening his lunch.
"Wanna trade?" asked Tillean, who offered a bundle just before Aric's face. Wrapped in wax paper, they were a bunch of apple slices, only barely touched by the browning air.
Aric shook his head.
"Aw. You want em Ganbe?" he asked, offering them anew.
"Nope," answered Ganbe who rather than clear a spot on the sidewalk, chose to sat in the grass nearby.
"I'm going to go get my milk," Tillean announced before hurrying down the sidewalk in pursuit of the others.
Ganbe opened the top of his bag and upended it, spilling the contents onto the grass. He sifted through the contents, pushing aside the sandwich and vegetables to pick up the sweetbread dessert and began eating that first.
Aric skewered his juice container with the accompanying straw and began sucking on that. He wasn't really hungry.
"How's the bird doing?" Ganbe asked between bites.
Aric gave a small start and looked around to check that Tillean was still gone. "It died," he confided in Ganbe.
Ganbe frowned. "Really?"
Aric nodded.
"Hm." After a pause, Ganbe said, "I tried keeping a turtle once. It died too. I guess that just happens a lot."
"Yeah."
"Tillean's gonna be mad about it though."
"Yeah."
"Did you bury it?"
"No."
"Why not? Did a coyote get it?"
Aric opened his mouth to reply, but did not have a ready answer. Now that he thought about it, he realized that he was waiting until Serobi came back before burying the chick. It belonged to her more than anyone else. She should at least be able to see it before it was buried.
"What?" Ganbe asked. He had finished the sweetbread and was unwrapping the sandwich.
"It's nothing."
"Don't worry about Tillean."
"Ah, I don't care about Tillean."
"Mm."
The subject of discussion was now quickly approaching and sat down on the sidewalk nearby, empty-handed and out of breath. "They didn't have any chocolate milk," he supplied, then began eating his apples noisily. "What you got, Aric?"
Aric shrugged and then opened his bag to remove the aluminum foil bundle and unwrapped it. There were two pieces of chicken inside.
"Hey! Can I have some?"
"I guess."
"Thanks," said Tillean as he helped himself to the larger breast piece and began eating it in lieu of the apples.
Upon seeing how much Tillean was enjoying the chicken, Aric felt his own hunger aroused and followed suit. It was pretty good. He now regretted giving the other piece away.
For the next few minutes they ate quietly until Tillean, almost choking, bolted down the last of his lunch. "Okay bye" he said before running across the yard to join in a game of wall ball that had just started.
"Oh," commented Ganbe as he looked at his remaining food and then at the attractive game. After getting up from the grass, he dumped his leftovers back into his bag and wrapped it up. "You gonna play too?" he asked Aric.
"Maybe later."
"I'm gonna go."
"Okay."
The ball slammed against the brick wall rapidly, resounding with the same hearty "thunk!" each time it hit. Aric was transfixed by the game they were playing and gave a start when he heard the air siren wind up. The other kids stopped what they were doing to look about and into the sky, or to each other, not understanding what the sound was. The kids on the swing set braked to a halt, their feet throwing up gravel and sand, and now ignored, the ball bounced away from the wall. Ms. Forester rose from the bench, uncertain like the children, but only for a moment. Then she clapped her hands twice and in a commanding voice ordered, "Line up single-file by the gate! This is a fire drill!"
En masse, the children did as instructed. They all ran to be first in line, some thrilled by the deviation from the schedule, others sincerely frightened. Ms. Forester's pace was more restrained, but only just. Aric got up from the sidewalk and took his place at the end of the line. Ms. Forester quickly opened the gate and ushered them out of the school yard, waiting for each to pass before exiting herself. The guiding hand she pressed against Aric's back was urgently forceful.
As he joined the rest of the students gathered on the sidewalk outside the school, Aric saw other people emerging from other buildings along the street. They seemed just as surprised and confused by the commotion. It was the air siren atop the Factory substation that was going off. Some of the kids were covering their ears, but it wasn't really that loud. Aric had never heard it before; until now, he had thought the thing was broken. Some of the other people were pointing above the buildings and he looked.
Above the mountains, black smoke was smeared against the blue sky. Aric squinted hard. It looked like whatever it was was still burning, for the dark plume undulated incrementally as it drifted skyward.
Some of the children became more nervous once they saw the smoke and began plying Ms. Forester with questions. Aric stepped away from the group so that he could see better. Down an alley, through a gap in the buildings, he could see the dust plume of a vehicle heading quickly towards the mine. He wondered who it was. The siren stopped and the air seemed uncomfortably silent afterwards.
"They say there was an explosion at the mine," spoke Ganbe, who had arrived at his side unnoticed.
"Oh really?" said Aric.
"Yeah."
"How do you know?"
Ganbe pointed at Ms. Forester, who was in a private conversation with another adult, a step away from the kids so that they would not overhear. She shook her head, the man nodded strongly. "That's what he said."
"Wow." Aric looked back at the smoke. He wasn't sure, but it looked like it was getting thicker and darker. The vehicle had already disappeared from view.
Ms. Forester clapped her hands together and waited until the class had quieted down and was facing her. The man had left and some of the other adults along the street were beginning to depart. "Class is over for today." She shushed the outburst of delight from some and continued. "There's been an accident at the mine. If someone you know works there, everyone's gathering at the Factory station. That's where you should go and meet your parents. For everyone else, you should just go home. Okay?"
The kids nodded.
"Be careful."
The children dispersed and Ms. Forester turned away to head towards the station. One of the rumors had been that her boyfriend was one of the mineworkers and by the look of dread on her face, it seemed that just might be true.
Aric had started back home, but a hand caught his wrist and stopped him. It was Tillean. "What?" Aric asked.
"You wanna go see the fire?"
Aric's interest was instantly excited. He hadn't thought about that. "The one at the mine?"
"Yeah," answered Tillean eagerly.
"Okay," nodded Aric with equal enthusiasm.
"C'mon, we gotta hurry before they put it out."
The two of them crossed the street and Aric looked for Ganbe to join them, but he couldn't see him anywhere. They began running down the sidewalk, dodging the groups of people still gathered there.
"I saw a truck headed over there," said Aric.
"A truck?" Tillean shouted over his shoulder.
"Yeah. I think it mighta been the fire militia."
They left the main paved street and ran down the dirt road leading towards the pass.