Everwinter: The Forerunner Archives (24 page)

I glance over at Glamis. "Are you serious?" I say. "Have you seen Glamis? Why would he bother with some big, overdramatic ruse? He could've snapped both of your necks by now and be carrying me and Traylor under one arm the rest of the way to the Fringes. He's telling the truth." Glamis puffs up proudly, taking what I say as a compliment.

Altair hesitates, then finally nods. "I guess you're right. But when we get to the Fringes
–"

"Takay," I interrupt. "He said the place is called Takay."

"Right," Altair huffs. I love driving him nuts. "When we get to Takay, if I suspect
anything
is amiss, we bail, without question. You all listen to my orders if it comes to that."

"Fair enough," I agree with a smirk. Ursa murmurs her assent as well.

"I'm in," Traylor also agrees. He's finally joined us.

We all turn toward Glamis.

"Okay, Glamis," I say. "We will come with you. But Altair is in charge, is that cool?"

Glamis seems confused for a moment,
but then he nods and his smile is broader than ever.

"Fantastics!" he exclaims. "You will not regrets! You will sees! This will all be over very soon indeeds!"

35.

It's another sixteen hours before the Engie reaches the Fringes.

During that time, we get to know our new traveling comp
anion a little better. Glamis was an orphan of the Fringes, having been abandoned by his parents as a youngster, born a mutant. His parents, from the Southern cities, had been born mutants as well, but not so severe as to be noticeable. They'd kept their deformations hidden their entire lives. When they'd had Glamis, his body all lumps and tumors, they knew they were in trouble. Their child would draw suspicion, and all three would end up in a Judgment Square if something weren’t done.

T
hey did the only thing that they could.

With a supply of rations and a few
meager credits, Glamis' parents stowed him aboard an Engie, sending him to the Fringes where abominations could live without prejudice.
Mostly
. The only problem was that the Fringes are desolate, void of the natural resources that the rest of Eversummer enjoys. Food is scarce, survival isn't easy, and suicide is a common way out for many.

"But survives I did," Glamis explains. "My largeness gaves me the edges over others in competitions. And my brains. I'se was smarts, where others was not. Only problems I haves is with speeches. When Doctors Agoma and Ragyle come to Takay, they find
s me easy. They sees my brains is larges. They teach me. In exchanges, I helps them in experiments."

It takes me a second to process this last comment. "You mean, you let them do tests on you?" I look around, and the question is obviously on everyone else's tongues as well.

Glamis nods. "Yes. They tryings to cure me. Sometimes they succeeds. Other times not."

I gape. "What does that mean? Sometimes?"

Glamis shrugs. "Sometimes I gets big, other times…I gets even bigger!" He laughs. "I never knows! But last times they makes me size I am now." He gestures to himself. "Biggest I ever been! I was but midget before!"

We all laugh, our new friend charming the hells outta us. "Glamis," I say. "Do you know what the Final Judgment is?"

The levity is broken.

"Yes," Glamis answers immediately. "It when mutations happen to everyone else."

"That's right," I confirm. "Glamis, when the Final Judgment happened, did it, um,
affect
you in any way?"

Glamis considers a moment. "No, it not. I'se was midget sizes before it happen. Half smaller than I am now." I stare at him, gaping. Half of Glamis' current size is still bloody huge! He continues. "Then Doctors Agoma and Ragyle find cur
e, test on me. It make me huges! That's why they know it work. It have opposite effects on pure human!"

Opposite effect?
I wonder.

"Perhaps," Ursa breaks in with a raised eyebrow. "You mean to say, the cure makes
original
mutants worse, while it cures the new ones? The ones made by the Final Judgment?"

Glamis purses his lips. "Yesses, in essences."

Ursa looks unconvinced, but then she finally nods. "Work that way it could," she admits in an oddly backward way. "I will be very interested to meet these so-called Doctors."

Glamis looks uncertain of how to take that comment, but he turns away, looking out the window. "Attend!" He bellows, taking us all by surprise. "The the sun touches the horizon! Welcome to the Fringes, my strange new frien
ds!" We all look out the window and see that Glamis is right. 

A spectacle I never expected to witness my entire life is about to take place.
 A spectacle most people never
ever
see.

The sun leaves the sky.

I gasp as it starts to dip below the saw-toothed formations of the rocky land behind us. The sky is painted in patches of purple and red–colors I've never seen there before. Shadows grow long, and a darkness creeps around me that feels wholly different than any I've ever experienced. Oh, I've experienced darkness before, but only in my bedroom during sleeping hours with the sunvisor drawn. 

Nothing like this.
 

This is different. This feels...
natural
.

That's what it is.
 

Something about this feels wholly right, like it should always be this way. It's like a switch just went off in my head. My body feels suddenly sluggish, fatigued. I want to sleep. I shouldn't though. After the calamity at the Manse in the grasslands, we'd rested nearly two weeks until Altair was well enough to travel. I should feel more than energetic.

But I don't.

All of a sudden...

"It's called
Darklag
," Altair says. I look around and realize Ursa and Traylor are both yawning too, while Altair and Glamis seem unaffected. "It's a common reaction when experiencing natural darkness for the first time," he says. "Or for the first time in a long time." 

"When you're traveling the other way, it's called
Lightlag
," Ursa offers. She's yawning again. I forget that she's been this way before. She'd lived in Everwinter for a time, after all.

"How long does it last?" I ask, genuinely concerned.

I feel like crap.

"As long as a good sleep to let your body adjust," Ursa replies.

"Great," I mumble.

I turn away from the setting sun and gaze out a window in the opposite dire
ction. The horizon is flat and dark dead ahead, not a stitch of light in the sky.

My heart starts to flutter rapidly.

"Gods," I mutter, hand to my chest. "We're really going there, aren't we?" Ursa raises an eyebrow at me. "Everwinter," I say. "I guess I never really believed there could be a place without the sun in the sky. Is that crazy?"

"No, not crazies," Glamis offers. "I'se feels much the sames first time I sees sun high in sky in Eversummer. Everything is myth until experienced first-hand. There is no substitute for real things."
  

He smiles at me awkwardly.

I smile back, surprised by his insight. "You're right, Glamis," I say. "You can listen to or read all the stories you like, but they will
never
do justice to real life experience."

"Isn't that what I'se just said?" Glamis smirks at me. It takes me a second to realize he's teasing me.

I laugh and gauge the dark horizon once more. Vague shapes are starting to take form.

A city?

"Is that it?" I ask Glamis. "Is that Takay?"

Glamis nods. "Is not much to looks at, I knows, but..." He trails
off, staring at the skyline, suddenly lost in thought.

As we get closer, the vague impressions morph into square shaped buildings, some canted at sickening angles, looking ready to fall over. The largest building, a fairly tall rectangular prism standing on end, is missing one wall, revealing a vast cross-section of different floors, many caved in. I see movement in the buil
ding and realize people are there: living, working, scavenging. We pass a few outlying buildings, as well as piles of scattered refuse. This place really gives new meaning to the term 'wasteland'.

Is this where Eversummer sends all of its garbage?
I wonder.

I see people
–mutants now–picking and scavenging through the leavings. Most look emaciated and filthy, just eking out an existence in this horrible place.

"I tells you is not pretty," Glamis offers, seei
ng my dismay. "But Takay is not all bads. Laboratory is nice. Doctors Agoma and Ragyle keeps clean. It at center of town." Glamis points, but I'm not sure at what. Every building at the center of town has the same rundown look.

We pull into what passes for the Engie station in Takay.

It's a long and massive building, with what looks like an enclosure over the tracks. As we pull under it, I see it’s just a blank metal frame. It had probably held glass sheets at one time, but no longer. There are mutants lounging about the station, some seeming surprised by the Engie's appearance. More than a few look like the boys from the Manse–white skin and hair, reddish eyes–and a pang of sadness grips my heart.

Poor Tien.

There are also more 'normal' looking mutants here; people who were purebloods before the Final Judgment.

"Why would anybody want to live here?" I grumble. It seems an awful place to make one's home, let alone a re
search laboratory.

Glamis gestures to the people outside. "They'se probably feels much the sames you do if they goes to Eversummer," he replies. "Home is home, not matters where it is."

"I guess," I return, unconvinced.

"Before the Final Judgment," Ursa comes in, "mutants could escape persecution in the Fringes. There is no law. No religion. Some would consider that a paradise compared to the dogma one is subjected to in Eversummer."

I raise my eyebrows.

She's referring to my
Father in an offhand way, but I don't blame her. If I had been a mutant before all this, I might have fled here too. Hells, I was
never
a mutant, and I often wanted to run from my Father's religious oppression.

The En
gie finally grinds to a halt, the whistle blowing.

Altair fishes
around in his pack and eventually produces two brown, rough-spun cloaks. "Put these on," he says to me and Traylor. "Keep the hoods up. No one here will bother you about them. There are no laws against it." He produces yet two more cloaks, handing one to Ursa and slipping the other on himself. "It will draw less attention if we all look and dress the same," he explains. "People will assume we belong to a sect, or cult, or something."

"Fair enough," I agree. "What about Glamis?" I gesture to the massive brute. No amount of disguis
ing could hide what he truly is.

Altair shrugs. "I don't think there's a
need. I assume you're fairly well known around here, Glamis?"

Glamis nods. "Oh yes! Glamis very well known
s and liked!"

"I think as long as w
e're with Glamis, we'll be fine," Altair says.

"This cure better be worth it," I mutter. "I'm getting sick of all this sneaking around."

"I was thinking the same thing," Ursa agrees with me as we climb out of the caboose.

36.

Glamis wastes no time.

He immediately leads us away from Takay Station, whistling a nameless tune as he does. "Doctors Agoma and Ragyle will be so pleased!" he mutters, taking us across a busy street and down a main thoroughfare. The way is clogged with horses, carts, and peddlers, hawking an abysmal selection of food and wares. Most of the buildings around here look abandoned, but people move in and out of them all the time. Most are dirty and disheveled, but there's a surprising sense of community that I find lacking in Krakelyn. These people are kindred spirits, whether they accept that fact or not.

Kids run in and out of the stalls, laughing and playing, while
mutant dogs and cats wander about and beg for scraps. It's sad, but it's not depressing–if that makes any sense. Most of these people probably don't know any better anyway. There's a whole other way of life on the other side of the world, and they have no idea.

"I'm surprised my
Father never organized a raid on this place," I mutter, leaping to avoid a pile of crap in my path. I don't know if belongs to an animal or a mutant.

Ursa, walking in front of me, turns and laughs. "Bel
ieve me," she confirms, "there was talk about that for a
long
time. Even before your Father was ever High Deacon. But the Fringes are just too far, too isolated, and too immense for the task to be worth the effort." She pauses, thinking. "They decided to send emissaries instead."