Ravana's Shadow (11) (Patreon)

Kit felt a little better a few hours later, once she was clean from the grime of her training and back in ordinary clothes. 

Ravana had sent no further messages. Kit could only hope that meant they weren't going to revoke permission for the expedition and upend everything she was building.

She kept her mouth closed about what she'd seen, however much she craved to express all her frustration to the mouse.

"Why don't you tell me who we're looking for?" Kit stopped beside the elevator. "Let's go over their names again."

"Callum," Jay said, without hesitation. "He's one of the best pilots we have. I'm sure you'd rather have someone else on the rocket who knows how to fly it."

Kit nodded. "So soon? I thought Remedial treatment usually took longer."

A few kids slowed in the hall, staring at the two of them. The Director going down to Remedial wasn't anything new—Wren had done it often enough. Most of the time that was to carry someone to their treatment. 

It wasn't her they watched with concern—it was Jay.

"Unfortunately, that is correct," Forerunner said. He used Jay's tablet to talk to them, where his voice wouldn't carry as far to any of the watching kids. "Callum’s treatment is taking longer than expected. It’s possible he’ll be ready before your mission departs, but I cannot guarantee it. I will not condone any action that might lead to permanent damage to one of my colonists.”

Kit sighed. Having another pilot would make the trip easier on her. But she had already flown once without help, she could do it again if she had to.

"Then there's Chase," Jay continued. "He’s a marine, lived here a really long time. From like… the second generation at least. He hasn’t been on the surface much in the last thousand years or so, but that only means he should be ready to leave if we want to. Then there’s a few from the first generation… not worth trying.”

"Why not?" Kit caught his wrist, tugging him towards the open elevator door. "First generation should be some of the best and brightest we have, right? Forerunner made them before anyone else. Presumably they were his first choice in every field."

"No chance they would come with you," Jay said. He followed without resistance, until they reached the threshold. He stopped in the doorway, so sharply that her hand pulled free of his wrist. "And I'm not going down there either. You need me too badly."

Kit slipped back out, standing on tiptoe to whisper to him. "You weren't becoming a patient. I want your help."

Most other colonists stayed well away from the elevator. She knew the rumors—that she'd somehow tricked or forced Wren into losing control, so she could take over her spot. 

Maybe they thought anyone who vanished into the basement was another troublesome kid that Kit had to get rid of to maintain her position.

"Is that allowed?" Jay pressed. "I never... saw anyone big down there, except the Director. Everyone else is small. It's only fair."

She shrugged. "At least come down to the entrance. You don't have to go inside if you don't want to."

Jay rocked nervously back and forth, his tail curling around his leg. Then he stepped forward, leaping into the elevator before he could change his mind.

The doors closed, and they began to descend.

"Which of the first generation?" Kit repeated. "I still think I should talk to them. Who do I want?"

"Olivia Black Bear," he said. "And James Fennec Fox. Olivia is the only one with any experience fighting, and James knows a lot about computers. Without Lucien, he's our next best bet."

She took mental notes of each one. "That's it, those three? Callum is out, so those two and… Chase?"

"It’s a good start," Jay answered. "I'm sure if there are others, Forerunner would be trying to persuade them to leave on his own."

"That is correct," Forerunner said. "I believe I can bolster the population of various specialists when required. I intended to take a personal approach in those cases, as our Director lacks the technical understanding to make her own evaluation. Kit will have to trust me, or else put aside some of her engineers to review my advice and slow the project further."

"I trust you, Forerunner," she said. Forerunner had lied to her and helped manipulate the Institute under Wren's orders. But he also protected her, cared for her, and watched over every member of the Institute. "Keep me informed. Whatever you build with the engineers, I just need to know how to help."

The elevator stopped, opening onto the familiar landing of Remedial. A soft waiting room at the scale of ordinary humans, not the templates of the Institute. Even if Jay climbed up on her shoulders, they'd never reach the roof. "So Chase, then the two from the first generation?"

"That's it," Jay said. "Good number for one trip. I've never even heard of a director convincing people to leave. If you can do it... maybe try for Wren while you're down here? Institute could really use her."

It only took one mention of that name for Kit to be back in the rover, facing down the director. Kit had learned too much, and Wren would make her too small to communicate that secret with anyone again. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk to her right now.”

Kit hesitated over the threshold, extending one hand to him. "Come with me? I promise they aren't scary. The patients are adorable! All they want is attention—a smile, some help with their drawing, giving them an extra cookie."

Jay clung to her wrist but didn't cross after her. His eyes watered, and his voice shook. "If I see it again, I'll... ask Forerunner to keep me there. I can't." He took a step back, turning to the side. That way he could see her, but not the wide doorways leading beyond. "I know you're young, you don't feel it. Your world coming apart at the edges."

She stepped back inside, closer to him. Her tail wrapped around them both, protective. "I don't know what that feels like."

"Like you're a doll without enough stuffing," he continued, poking at his chest with his free hand. "Hollow and stretched out. In the old days, that meant a colonist would die. Here, there's... somewhere else. The lesser death calls for you, with soft places and bright music."

Kit hugged him tight. "If you have to go one day, go. Your health is more important than anything you can do as my assistant, same as for all my other colonists. You deserve to be happy."

He turned slowly in her direction, forcing a smile. "I can be happy upstairs, until this is done. Good luck, Director." He shoved her shoulder, hard enough that she stumbled backward.

The elevator door closed, and the car shot up into the ceiling.

Kit stared after him for a few more seconds. She sighed, and her tail sagged all the way down to the floor.

“It’s what you wanted,” said a little voice. High and small, so close she should’ve seen it.

Kit turned and found another row of seats against the back wall, where they’d been mostly hidden in shadow. How many colonists had to wait their turn to go inside at once? 

So much for avoiding the old director. Of course, Wren didn’t look like the imposing, beautiful ermine, ready to take away her freedom. Instead of a space suit, she now had a simple white blouse and blue skirt, all in pastels. Her legs hung so far off the ground that Kit wasn’t even sure how she’d gotten up there. Her hair was much shorter than Kit remembered. Apparently she’d decided that hair longer than her body was too much to deal with down in Remedial.

Kit made her way over, dropping to one knee so they would be at eye level. “Good to see you again, Director.”

Wren kicked her tiny feet towards her, grinning. No shoes, just socks. “Liar. I smell when you’re lying, big-tail. Can’t hide it even if I’m little.” She trailed off, staring at the floor. 

“I didn’t want to send you here,” Kit said. She stiffened, retreating from her. Wren didn’t need her size or sharp teeth to hurt her. “Forerunner did that, not me. Because you were… losing coherence.”

“Wasn't!” Wren stuck out her tongue. “Forged, big-tail. Carbon into the atomic press. Diamond mind. He just said that to make you feel better about it. Locking me away with the little crazies.”

She stood up on the seat, or tried. Unfortunately for the former director, her coordination seemed to match her size. She squealed in surprise, flailing as she tumbled forward. 

Kit caught her in both arms. “Careful! Why did Forerunner even let you out?”

The tiny Wren turned her head towards Kit. “Are you crazy too, big-tail?. Are you gonna keep Mara alive? Can you get them all the way out to space? Or will you end up in a crib? Will you give up?”

Kit heaved, settling Wren more comfortably in both arms. Despite her coldness at their last meeting, the old Director showed little of that spite now. She rested both arms around Kit’s neck, holding on tight. “Careful, I’m squishy!”

“I’m being careful. You’re the one who almost fell over.” She shifted the ermine until she was on one side of her body, then set off again. “I’m here for a reason. More than just… trying to make everyone feel better. Do you know anything about Chase?”

Wren nodded eagerly, twisting her whole body around so fast her tail smacked Kit’s arm. “I know everyone in the Institute! Chase, Chase, Chase. Pine Marten. Really brave. Olivia’s… favorite.” She tilted her head sideways, looking dissatisfied with what she’d just said. “Trained him. Marine. When we thought Mara might need fighting. No fighting anymore, though. Just old soldiers in a nursery. Tiny retirement home. More dignified this way.”

Kit reached the door. It opened for her, and one of Forerunner’s nursery robots waited just inside.

Forerunner had allowed Wren to go outside and talk to her, but not unattended. It offered its arms to Kit. But when she started to hand her over, Wren began to squirm, kicking at her chest with enough force to make her gasp.

“No! Bring me! I know him, big-tail! He’ll listen better if I’m there!”

Kit pulled her arms back, settling Wren into her grip. “You sure about that? Can she even think straight, Forerunner?”

The drone remained beside her, arms still outstretched. It didn’t prod her—the decision was clearly still hers to make. If she wanted. “Wren is currently subjected to a cognitive filter. However, her ego forging makes her uniquely resilient against its effects. Whether that assistance is meaningful to you is entirely your decision to make. I would not recommend bringing her to any meeting with the first generation.”

Kit pulled back, returning Wren to her arms. "Let's see if that's true, Director. Forerunner, where's Chase? Can we see him now?"

"He is currently building something in the kitchen. I would not go so far as to call it cooking, though he might. Follow me."

That “me” was the same drone that had offered to carry Wren for her only a few seconds earlier. Kit nodded, settling into step behind it. While they walked, Wren hummed to herself, rocking slowly back and forth.

As usual, Kit's visits attracted attention. Other kids peered over the low walls of their sections, or else waved to her from the arms of the robots carrying them. Kit waved back with her free hand. She would have to entertain them for a bit, then slip off to find her recruit.

The long-tailed pine marten had made quite the mess for himself in what could only tangentially be called a kitchen. Various powders and creams scattered on every surface, which was also conveniently made of soft foam. No wonder Forerunner had a drainage grate at their feet, and little sprayers all over the place.

Chase had an apron for himself, which might be the only part of him not completely covered in ingredients. He didn't seem to mind that his “pie” was mostly all over the counter. Half of it was covered in a dense scrawl of numbers, which he'd seemingly forgotten about halfway through to go back to making a mess.

"You want me to go aaallllllllll the way up," he said, dumping another tray of cream nowhere near the "pie" in front of him. It splattered wildly through the kitchen.

Kit was fast—but not fast enough to keep her tail from the splash zone. She winced, twisting it to one side and shaking it a few times.

"That's where anything happens!" Wren hopped up onto a stool beside her, not seeming to notice or care about the mess Chase was making all over her. "Building things, and shooting them up into space, and maybe bringing them back again!"

"Dunno." Chase stuck his hand into the tray down to the wrist, swirling it around a little. "I do wanna try going to space. Everyone else has, lots and lots of times. But I’m the only me, and I never did.”

He turned the tray  towards Kit, not seeming to notice that his damp hands didn't have much of a grip.

But Kit did, and she jerked forward, settling two fingers under the tray and lifting it back to the table in front of Chase.

"This looks like lots of fun. But if you go up with us, you could have even more! You’d get your own space suit! You’d train with us, go on walks out on the surface, and eventually go up in a real rocket!"

Chase scratched at his chin, thoughtful. Finally, he stuck both hands on his hips, nodding confidently. "Okay, new girl. I can... I can go upstairs... if."

He pushed the pie towards Kit. "Stick it on your head. I wanna see if it sticks to squirrels."

Kit retreated a step, glancing sidelong at Forerunner. It had two nursery drones near the "kitchen," one for each patient inside. She focused on the closer of the two. "Can you honor that? If he agrees..."

"If he agrees," Forerunner repeated. "The nature of his arrangement is... perhaps only somewhat unexpected. He is testing the bounds of materials as he can presently understand them."

"Funny words won't make me change my mind!" He folded both arms across his chest. His tail never touched the ground, or any of the filthy surfaces. His pine marten agility showed even at his small size. "Deal, or no? Wear it, new girl!"

Kit dropped down to one knee, meeting his eye level. "Promise to come up and help if I do?" She stuck out her hand to the toddler. "Shake on it?"

Chase eyed the outstretched hand suspiciously, then seemed to realize his opportunity, because he took it with both of his, smearing goop all over Kit's wrist and fingers. "Promise!"

If a little chocolate pudding separated Mara from stability or a cold, frozen death, she'd never forgive herself.

Kit pulled her hand back, then took the tray. She extended her tail behind her as far as it would go, then dumped the "pie" down her face, avoiding her ears.

Judging by the energetic giggling, her display proved satisfactory for her audience. Even Wren joined in, clapping her hands against the counter. "She did it!"

"You thought you were strawberry, but you were chocolate!" Chase agreed, rocking back and forth on his stool. So energetically that he slipped sideways, and his excited squeal turned into a whimper.

On Earth gravity, he would've landed before Kit could react. But here she had more time. Kit dove behind him, twisting onto her back and opening her arms wide.

Chase landed in her lap at about the same moment Kit's tail sunk into the goo. She tensed at the awful sensation, but held on, holding Chase carefully in both arms.

If any part of her had been clean before, it wasn't now. She looked up, forcing a smile. "You kids sure do fall a lot."

The pine marten whimpered, wiping away the slime from his face and onto Kit's ears. His whimper of pain transformed back into a giggle. "Missed a spot."

She sat up, resting Chase on her lap. "So long as you help me upstairs, you can make as much of a mess as you want."

Chase abruptly stopped what he was doing, squirming to be free. Kit released him, and he shuffled over to the counter. He returned a second later with the sprinkles and upended the whole carton onto Kit's face. "Okay! All done!" He giggled, looking over at Wren. "You never let me do that."

"Course not! It's gross!"

It was, and it would be worse when it started to dry."Forerunner, can you take him please?"

The nursery robot appeared moments later. "That depends. Are you ready to go, Chase?"

"Hmm. Maybe. I guess." He looked down, kicking at the slime with his bare feet. He nearly slipped again, but this time the robot steadied his shoulder. "Will it really be fun, new girl?"

"Yeah," she said, emphatic. "We have the most important mission ever waiting for us. You get to help!"

"Then... sure. I guess I can be big again. If I get to go on the rocket.”

The robot lifted him by the arms, up and out of the kitchen.

Another took Wren a second later. She squirmed and squealed all the way around the corner. "Wait! She can't go see the first kids without me!"

But despite her protests, Forerunner lifted her from the low walls of the kitchen, and she vanished from sight.

Another nursery robot appeared moments later, with a handful of damp towels. "Director? I believe you'll be needing these."

Kit stepped out and accepted them eagerly. But a little moisture could only do so much. Another of the many inconveniences of having fur—once something got stuck, she’d need a proper soak to get it out again.

She did her best, anyway, handing back both towels dark and smelling sweet. “That was… not my favorite way to recruit someone. What about the first generation?”

“They don’t want to meet with you,” Forerunner said. “I told them you planned on coming, and they refused. You can… ignore their wishes and visit anyway, of course. But I’m not sure that would improve your odds.”

The chocolate pudding in my tail isn’t gonna help either. She sighed, letting her tail sag all the way to the ground. “I guess I can come back later. Heat the big tub as hot as it will go for me, please.”

“Noted,” Forerunner said. “Though the foxes are finishing their shift. You will not likely be able to relax if you don’t use your quarters.”

Kit was already walking. “Did you tell anyone I’d be visiting today? If there are colonists waiting for me to read…”

“A few,” Forerunner said. “I could substitute if you wished.”

“No.” She groaned, then changed directions. “Just don’t bring anyone else.” She shuddered, wrapping both arms around her soiled jumpsuit. Chase Pine Marten better be one hell of a marine.