Ain't Talkin'

Roche returned to the makeshift campsite in the lee of the dunes within a few minutes. Providence had led him to a dry, dead bush and a few scattered boards from a house that had been blown in and out by bombs or shelling or whatever else. The boards were dry and there were enough of them to keep a fire going for some hours.

Alex Markus was seated back where he had been. The vodka bottle was between his knees and his head was slumped with his chin in his chest.

Roche said nothing and dug out a hole in the earth with the end of a board. He made a teepee of the boards and a padding of twiggy-bush branches underneath. the hunter flipped open his lighter with a ting of metal and lit the bushes.

Roche hobbled lucky with an end of rope and gave the mare another fistful of dried grass while he took her saddle down. The fire took quickly and Roche sat with his boots to the flame and his ass against his saddle.

“Where’s my rifle?” Roche asked calmly, holding his hand out for the vodka. He knew where the gun was, though.

“I’m sorry. I got worried.” Alex handed Roche the vodka bottle and clumsily and half-soberly pulled the A-Mat from his side and into his lap.

“Wasn’t gone more than fifteen minutes. You might have wanted to take the safety off anyhow.” Roche took the rifle from Markus and hitched it against the saddle while he dragged from the bottle. “It’s here. But couch it close against your shoulder if’n you’re gonna shoot it, kid. And be ready for it. Fucker will kick you backwards.” Roche tapped the safety on the rifle above and forward of the trigger-pull.

“I will. And I won’t shoot you with it, I promise. Just get me back.”

“Not the least worried about you, Markus-”

“Call me Alex?”

“Alex I ain’t a mite worried about you shooting me with this. This A-Mat would chew your arm up and kick you while you’re down for me. ‘Sides o’ which you ain’t the type.” Roche swigged vodka and swallowed thickly.

“The type?”

“Son you would drop trouser and do cartwheels if someone asked you politely let alone point a gun at you. Biggest wonder is why the Corporation needed three men to cage you. One schoolboy would have been enough.” Roche smirked and drank.

“I don’t like being made fun of.”

“Harsh world, harsh words. This is the epilogue of all things fuckwit and the world will fuck you, eat you and shit you out if you ain’t the type to stand tall and stare back.”

“You’re bitter. You’ve seen a lot?” The fuck was with this kid and the questions, he must have been drunk already, all ten stone of him.

“I’ve seen more than you or anyone will ever see, lad.”

“Except others like you.”

Roche laughed aloud. “And what is it that I am, Alex?” Funny being on a first name basis with this one already, at least in a one-way street fashion.

“A walker.”

“And where’s his prize, Slappy? He guessed the number of pebbles in the jar so get the kid a free beer.”

“What?” Alex had a real stupid look on his gob.

“Yes, lad. Yes. And I only say yes without a beat because you knew that already didn’t you? My time for questions.”

“Alright then.” Markus settled back on his butt a little. Agreeable little shit.

The half moon was rising in the east and the fire was burning on quickly through the dried wood. Roche tossed another board into the flames casting a million little embers into the air.

“What’s on December 13th?”

Alex screwed his mouth up before answering. “You need to get me back to the Res before that date.”

“Why?”

“Because of what the Corporation is about to do.”

“Which is?”

“Not the point.”

“It sure as shit is, lad. If it involves me and this job then it sure as all shit is the point.”

“They’re releasing constructs.”

“Which are?” Roche drank.

“Mutated etherfish.”

“Alright, put a pin in that. Who’s your daddy?”

“My father is dead, like I said. The man who I suppose posed as my father is a representative of the Res. A lieutenant named Kendall Miner is a resident official for the Res in Polkun County.”

“That’s the one.”

“Then that’s who it was. Their aim is to get me back before the 13th.”

“You work for the Res?” Roche lit a smoke and watched Markus fidget at the question.

“No. I worked for Ethercorp as a research analyst, in the applied sciences division. I got picked up by a recruiter when I was real young from back east. I was good with numbers and the sciences, physics, you know?”

“Hmm.” Roche made a continue motion with one hand.

“Well, I did real well with the Corp, this was after my father died that I started working for the Corp. No mother or other family to speak of. Anyways, I did well and after some time working in genetic research and realistics they moved me to ether research and I found out what they were doing.

The Corp has been working with ether for as long as it’s been around. Some years ago they managed to find ways to keep and contain fish in string fields. Manipulations of the ether using magnets and ionically bonded strands of protein. The kind of stuff that can be created in and exist in the ether. Once they’d captured a few dozen schools of fish they started doing. . .things, to them.”

When Alex went silent for nearly a minute Roche prompted him again. “Like?”

“The kinds of conceptual things that no one knows about. Even I wasn’t totally privy to their methods and I was on a higher level team. The kind of things that involved killing indigent wastelanders for their exit particles - the last breath bit of existence that some people theorize quantifies the state of being alive. They used anything and everything the could and they made these fish something different. They made the constructs.”

Both men were silent for some time. The walker lit another cigarette when Markus started up again, not wanting to stall the kid’s spilling by asking more questions.

“That’s when I went to the Res. They’re planning something for the 13th of December that involves the bridge-door between Terra 1 and Terra 2 in New San Fran. I believed they were going to militarize the constructs. I was close enough to the program that the Corp got to me in Polkun County when I was slated to meet Mr. Miner, the Res lieutenant and my contact.

From there I can only assume he hired you to bring me back to them before I was gone. The Res knows enough about what the Corp is doing and I was a key piece in helping them stop it.”

“That’s a lot of moving parts, kid.” Roche dragged long on his smoke.

“Yes, I suppose. And you’re a key to it.”

“Getting you back is my job. To your father or whoever the fuck wants to pay my other two-thirds. That’s all.”