Forerunner's Child (27) (Patreon)

Despite everything the day had brought, Wren made it to one final meeting of the senior staff. 

Forerunner had a change of clothes ready for them both, and a soft cloth strap Kit could wear over her chest to carry the child.

"Contact with templates less than 70% is not usually recommended," Forerunner said, as the elevator rumbled down to ground level. "But in this case, I believe the harm to Wren is outweighed by the significant benefit to Mara’s social order."

Wren wasn't asleep anymore. Despite her size, the ermine's reaction had been entirely one of stress. Now she fidgeted in her harness, occasionally squirming with legs or arms, before falling limp again.

She was still old enough to speak, though much of what she said made little sense.

Except in that moment. Her ears folded back, and she twisted sideways, meeting Kit's eyes. "They need... to... see," she insisted. "Show them it's okay. Show them I'm... safe." She turned back around, stretching down with both arms. "You're gonna... lose 'em. Some. No matter what you say. They're my friends. When they see what you... did..."

Kit rested both arms around Wren, settling her back into the harness. Washed and dressed, she could almost forget about what she'd seen on the transport floor—one second, flesh was part of the director, then it was on the ground.

"Probably," Kit agreed. "But I don't think too many. You're not giving up; you're not abandoning them. But this way, the one who lied to them all this time isn't their leader anymore. This way you've already had your punishment, and you can go back to being friends."

Wren whimpered, pulling her bangs sideways in front of her face. "Don'... wanna... Forerunner... help... take me away..."

The elevator stopped abruptly, somewhere between floors. The doors did not open. "Resident Wren. I can compel Kit to deliver you to Remedial. I believe she will comply, if I insist. However, this would significantly impede the outlook of her administration."

Wren twisted around again, sticking her tongue out. "So what? Her problem."

"Yes," Kit agreed. "But this isn't about me. Your friends, those kids you care about—they might not work very hard if they don't trust me. They might not listen. The colony might not be safe anymore. Is that what you want?"

The ermine tilted her head sharply to one side, stuck one hand into her mouth, staring thoughtfully out at nothing. Finally, she shook her head. "No. It's not."

"Then be brave." Kit brushed her hair with her free hand, the same way Wren had helped her on her first day. "I'll get you down with the others soon. After you get a chance to say goodbye."

The elevator jerked, then the doors opened. Kit stepped out onto the bottom floor—and all conversation died.

Residents crowded into the hallways, wearing various night outfits. Many carried sleeping bags or had made little forts with pillows and toys.

Wren started squirming instantly, fighting to escape her grip. Some of those looked worth exploring—doubly so at Wren's size.

Colonists poked out from their toys, clambered over each other, put their pillow-weapons down. All stared.

She passed through the automatic doors to the climbing arena. Cheerful music echoed through the space, a huge buffet-style table of treats filled one wall, while others had games in other open spaces. 

Jonah lingered near the middle, where they'd made a stage from oversized foam pads. A banner hung just overhead, proclaiming Kit's welcome to the colony with acorns and little squirrel images. 

The otter stumbled down from the stage, fumbling with a microphone in one hand. He looked from Kit to the girl she carried, then back to her. "W-what... what happened?"

Kit took the microphone from his stunned fingers. "It's easier if I tell everyone at the same time. Can you get them together? Right away."

Jonah spluttered, without quite forming any specific words. "Y-you... I'm not..."

"Do it," Wren said. "Jonah... pleeease. Get everyone. So I can... say... bye."

"Is that?" He nudged Wren's ears, pressing one of them flat. "O-oh. Weasel. That's her."

Wren wasn't squirming anymore. Rather, she'd gone completely still. One little hand wrapped around Kit's wrist, and squeezed as tight as she could. Up against Kit's chest, she felt the child's racing heartbeat. And more—her interface! The former director still sent her emotions. They came far less refined than before, no longer boiling with the complexity of conflicted, overlapping feelings. The ermine was just scared.

"Yeah. Five minutes, Jonah. Being up here is... overwhelming for her. Help me, so I can get her where she belongs."

"Okay." He scurried off to obey.

Kit made her way over to the stage, where she could lean against the foam blocks. Wren might be tiny, but her weight wasn't insignificant. She couldn't hold her for hours.

"Kit?" Sadie appeared from the crowd, one of the few bold enough to approach her directly. "Squirrel! We lost your transmission just past the border. Did you really..."

Kit nodded. "Yeah."

Sadie dropped to one knee, moving her hand gently out of the way. She spent ten full seconds with her eyes locked on the silent, terrified Wren. She pushed her leg aside, inspecting the black mark at the end of her white tail, then pushing her ears to either side. "Wren Least Weasel," she whispered. "The Director? I thought she was invincible."

Wren sniffed, then started crying. Not quietly either—loud enough that the awful silence turned painful. Kit straightened, then held her tail in front of herself, covering the former director completely in red fluff.

That worked—Wren gasped, then giggled. "Big."

"Yeah. It's big."

She backed away from Sadie. "Is everyone here? I think Maddie had some trouble during our mission."

Sadie stood up. "She's here. Everyone is. Forerunner said your transport made it back. We just... the Director..."

Forerunner interrupted her. "The Institute of Perpetual Luminescence will address its department heads, senior staff, and invited guests." The music fell silent, and lights through the room dimmed. It left only the one shining down on the stage.

Kit scurried up the steps, moving her tail deliberately behind her. The foam yielded under her feet, though less than she might expect. Even carrying the old director, she didn't weigh much. 

"Hey everyone," she said. When she spoke, her words echoed through the room, amplified by the same speakers Forerunner always used. "There's no easy way to say this. Your old director—Wren Least Weasel—she's with me here. Forerunner, what did you say about her?"

Wren whimpered, wrapping her arms tightly around herself, but she didn't have a tail big enough to hide her, not like Kit. She would have to look into the faces of the ones she lied to.

"After many years of distinguished service, Wren began suffering personality decoherence. The events of her expedition beyond these walls may have accelerated her decline, but I have observed this degradation over many centuries. Like all of you, she eventually reached the ends of her emotional endurance. I have prepared a treatment and rehabilitation plan for her, to begin as soon as she is transferred to Remedial."

Wren started crying again. Little strangled sobs, rocking back and forth. She struggled valiantly to stay silent, in vain.

Those tears were soon lost in the wave of responses. 

"Can't be!" 

"Wren would never!" 

"She has never been to Remedial." 

"Can't be the Director." 

"Who's in charge?"

Dozens of similar questions, all yelled with equal respect—none. Kit's ears folded flat, and she backed away from the front of the stage. Going out on adventures was one thing—did she really have the strength to do Wren's job? She'd never been good at politics!

Forerunner did not leave her to her own devices. "Residents. Before she succumbed, Wren named Kit her interim successor. I have confirmed her nomination to Director, until such time as Wren completes treatment, or the senior staff endorse replacement in five years’ time. Until then, Kit is your new director."

He spoke with such force, such confidence—most kids fell silent then. Not all. Like Jonah—that otter looked like he wanted to throw something at Kit. Maybe he wasn't the only one. 

He didn't. Instead, a familiar voice broke the silence, shouting down from an upper floor. Maddie poked out from the arena, holding a huge stuffed fox under one arm. "What scared Wren so badly?" she asked. "The old director wouldn't leave if she had a choice. What did you see out there?"

You know, Kit realized. She glanced back but found the Engineering head already looking away innocently. Without better control of the interface, Kit couldn't know exactly what Maddie had observed. Enough to make her suspect, if not already know.

"Please... Kit... don't..." Wren's own sobs came together into real words again. She twisted all the way around, one hand pressed to Kit's chest. "Please please please. Don't."

"Dinner first," Kit said. "Everyone here looks hungry... I know I am. While we're eating, anyone who wants to can come and say goodbye to Wren. I just have one thing to ask—everyone, please. Don't decide to go with her yet. Wait until after I can tell you what happened. The Institute needs you—all your skills, all your fancy degrees and science I don't understand. Please hear the truth before you decide to go with her."

Emma came to her rescue, hopping up onto the stage at that exact moment. "We cooked a special dinner for everyone! And a welcome cake for Kit... our new director. Line up! Small templates go first. Sit with your departments. But uh... you can come to the stage and say goodbye to Wren. Is this where you'll be?"

Kit nodded, then sunk down onto the edge. "Yeah."

It took over an hour, and Kit didn't get a single bite of her special cake. Wren did—right off the plate Jay brought. She even licked off the frosting. 

Someone had to wrangle the former director, or else risk her running off to vanish down some tiny gap only an ermine could follow her through. Besides—this wasn't about Kit. 

Everyone knew Wren. Almost everyone wanted to say something. Listening to their farewells, Kit felt as though she got to know half the colony. Wren had clearly known them too—she knew their problems, knew their weaknesses and how they wanted to be better. The kindness she'd once shown Kit—it wasn't just for her.

But now the Director didn't understand. Wren still knew them. She said all their names and did her best. All she could really do was give them a hug and promise she would come back soon.

Then they were done. Everyone who wanted to visit had said their goodbyes, and Kit stood up. 

Wren wasn't in a harness anymore; she just held her in her arms. The ermine wrapped both arms around Kit's neck, burying her head in her hair. 

"I'll be back," Kit announced. "I'd like everyone here. If anyone's asleep or didn't want to come—bring them. Get your friends, everyone. Wake them up if you have to. The Institute needs to know the truth."

She stepped through the elevator door. It slid closed, then they were moving down. "W-what.... what..." Wren let go, meeting her eyes. "Thanks. For letting me... say... how much I love everyone. Before they hate me."

Kit could barely meet her eyes without crying herself. She patted Wren's back, holding on tight. "The Institute is going to know the truth about Mara," she said. “But I’m not going to tell them who lied.”

Wren sobbed, hugging Kit with all the strength her template gave her. "Why?"

Kit didn't answer. Those were big questions, way too big for someone the former director's size.

Despite hearing the truth from Wren's own mouth, despite Forerunner's assurances and everything she'd already seen, a part of Kit still feared she would find nothing at all in Remedial. 

Maybe the elevator doors would open, and a biodigester would be waiting beside whatever technology Forerunner used to digitize human imprints for later. 

Colonists like Maddie who had traveled often would just be printed with false memories, using the same technique that let her understand their language when they fabricated her.

The elevator opened.