Chapter 8:

It smelt like home.

Faustic


“You’re a fucking idiot!” Jin shouted.

“I’m fucking pragmatic, that’s what I am,” Séquard defended. “You know how you find a needle in a haystack? You burn the fucking haystack.”

“And burn the needle with it!”

“I hope that’s what happened.”

“Look around you, Séquard.” She gestured at the devastation he wrought. The devastation they stood in the centre of. An entire football field’s worth of scorched earth and exposed wiring, and that was only what they could see. The torrent’s path reached beyond their line of sight, far off into the horizon. “All of this for one homunculus.”

“And if I had a hundred chances to do it all again, I would. Do not try to guilt me, Ashwalker. You can always repair metals and wires; human lives can never be reclaimed.”

One man. It killed one man. Those words, barbed and poisonious, never left her lips. She was ashamed they even came to mind, in the heat of the moment or otherwise.

All of their interfaces buzzed; all of them just got the same alert. Jin accepted the call, and the Princep’s voice came through in her head.

“Ma’am,” said Jin. “I am so sorry. I should’ve pushed Séquard away as soon as he tried to join the investigation.”

“I will not apologise for it,” he said. “If I even managed to save one life out of this, it would have been worth it.”

“I had the situation under control. You should have consulted me before you used your Axiom.”

“You could have killed both of us, too,” Chang added.

“Two first rank runners. You can handle yourselves. Well, actually, judging from this bickering, maybe you can’t.”

“Enough.” The Princep’s voice was sharp; commanding. “If you want to act like children, you’re welcome to do so when you’re off hours, but you’re on my fucking time, so behave. Listen, whatever happened, the homunculus is still alive. I received an alert in West Cisterna for a homunculus sighting.”

“West Cisterna?” said Jin.

“Within distance for a homunculus at top speed,” Chang calculated. “It must be the same one.”

“Shit. Alright, we’re leaving now.”

“I’m coming,” said Séquard

“We can handle it. You’ve done enough damage as is.”

“I didn’t ask for permission. You’re not my commanding officer.”

“You’re suspended, Séquard. That makes you a private citizen. If you interfere with a Runner, I am under authority and code to– ”

“To what?” Séquard got up close to her. “Try your luck, first rank.”

“Jin,” said the Princep. “Séquard’s coming.”

“Ma’am, I promise you, Chang and I can handle this.”

“That’s an order, Yurinhalt. I’m also sending in the National Guard and every off-duty Runner in the area. Lethal force is authorised. All B-Class and lower Axioms are authorised. Designation is kill-on-sight.”

Jin grit her teeth. Orders are orders, she reminded herself. There was nothing more to it.

“Yes, Ma’am,” she said, ending the call. They were in the centre of the forest, so it’d take them minutes before they could even get back to the Triton. After that, they had to account for travel time, too. Altogether, that would amount to–

“Ashwalker,” said Séquard.

Jin didn’t look back. “What?”

“I want you to know I have great respect for you. I respect you for your strength, for your skill, and for doing what I never could: ending the war. But you hesitated with that homunculus, and now it’s loose. So, I want you to know, if that homunculus takes even a single life more, and I pray it doesn’t, that sin will be on your shoulders. Do you understand.”

Jin stopped. She pivoted back and faced the hulking Runner. She had to tip her head back to even meet his eyes. With every bit of conviction she had, she replied, “I understand.”

New smells. Screaming. Sirens, blasting in the distance.

Loud. Such loud, loud noises. Foreign. New.

Everywhere she gazed, it was tall metal huts where the two-legs lived. Their big lights hurt to look at, so she kept her gaze low. She concentrated on the road below.

It felt good to walk, to move her limbs. It was all new to her. Fresh. The crushing of gravel underfoot. The coolness of the ground, the lumpy texture, even its strange smell.

Strange smell.

She turned around. There was a metal can on the pavement, knocked over. Its contents were spilt across the road.

She poked her face in. Most of it was worthless. Boring. Just lumps of shapes that either smelt mostly of nothing, or horrendously bad. Only one caught her attention and she nudged at it with her nose.

It had paper skin that once she ripped off, revealed fruit within: two pieces of bread and something dark squished in-between. Meat. It was the only thing that smelt familiar. It smelt like home.

She craned her head in and ate, crumbs rolling down her mouth. Sweet and rich juices coated her tongue, tasting like the rabbits she had in the forest, only better. It was the best thing she had ever eaten.

“Kitty!”

She turned back. The sound was from a two-leg cub, empty of fur except for a yellow patch on its head. Does it not get cold? At least the older two-legs had fur on their chin.

“Kitty!” the two-leg said again, pointing. Was it talking to her? What was it saying?

The two-leg strolled up to her. With one paw, it stroked her from head to hip, muttering all the while.

“Cute kitty, cute kitty. You’re a lot bigger than Snowflake. Lot less fur too. Snowflake has a lot. She sheds everywhere.”

It scratched her chin. Comforting. “Daddy always said to never pick up strays. He says they have fleas. You don’t have fleas, do you?”

She barked. There was no meaning to it, except to make noise in response to noise.

“Then it’ll be okay, right? That’s a good kitty.”

They sat like that for some time, alone on the road. The two-leg kept scratching her, and seeing nothing better to do, she went along with it. It was dusk, and the plummeting sun burnt the horizon orange as it fell, streaking on either side with darkened clouds. The sirens were still sounding, though they only serenaded empty streets and lone storefronts.

“I don’t know if I should even listen to Dad,” said the cub. “He promised to pick me up after school last week, so I waited and waited, but he never showed. I had to ask Ms Addams to call my mum. She got really angry at Dad for that.

“Mum always said Dad was bad. She said he’s naughty, stays out late, and rude. He was always nice to me though so I never believed her. Maybe she was right.”

Its lips twisted. Its eyes watered. Pain. Unhappy.

She leaned in close and nudged the cub with her nose. In the process, she caught a brief whiff of its scent. It was the first two-leg she’s smelt that didn’t stink of metal and sweat. This one smelt of sunlight. This one smelt good.

“You’re right,” the cub laughed with her nose in its face. “I don’t think Daddy’s bad. He promised he’d make it up to me. He said he’d take me trick-or-treating in his truck this halloween so we can hit every house. He promised I’ll get more candy than any other kid in class!”

She snapped her head back. There was a new smell. A bad one, like rotting flesh. When she glanced up, the sky darkened with flocks of massive steel birds, each screeching and gawking, with eyes that casted down cones of light.

More two-legs were showing up; adult ones this time, wearing metal faces. They were shouting something at them.

She backed away. There were too many new sounds. Too many new smells. Her head was threatening to burst.

“Betty!”

She pivoted at the familiar word. It was the female two-leg, the one that found her in the forest. The female inched towards her with raised hands.

“Betty, it’s me. It’s Jin. I’m a friend, remember?”

Foreign noises. Scary noises. She unhinged her upper jaw and as loud as she could, roared back. This was her territory. She would protect it. The child two-leg backed away with her.

“Please. Please, I just want to help you.”

“Forget it, Ashwalker. It’s a fucking animal, it can’t understand you,” said a large two-leg. He turned back and shouted, “It has a child! Snipers, take position!”

“No! We need to keep calm, else we scare her!”

“What we need to do is kill it before it can harm the child!”

“Séquard, you said you respected me, right?”

“I did, but this is a completely different– “

“Then trust me. Just this once. Let me speak to it, calm it down. I will not let her hurt the child, I promise you.”

The large two-leg’s expression was twisted, his back slightly hunched. Anger, brimming at the surface. After a minute’s pause, he relented. “You get two minutes. Not a second more, understood?”

“Thank you.”

The female breathed deeply, then stepped closer. She kept close to the ground, trying to look as small as possible. Her voice was gentle when she spoke. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Betty lifted herself up onto her hind legs. The people that encircled them raised their weapons at the movement. She may be small for her kind, but even she could cast an enveloping shadow; even she could be dangerous.

“Please…please, look, I really just want to help you. Everyone else here, all these people, all these soldiers, they all want to kill you. And you know what, it’s the safest answer and it’s the easiest answer, and a week ago, I would’ve taken it. But I want to be better. I want to try, because I think it’s the right thing to do. I believe there’s a way for all this to end without the need for any bloodshed. Betty, you don’t have to die.”

She took one step closer, and Betty took one step back.

“There’s a menagerie, off Cricoid Bay. They keep homunculi there, for research and observation. I know people. I can get you there. You won’t have to die here, you wouldn’t even have to go back to the farm. All you have to do is give me the boy.”

The female two-leg gestured at the child, crouched behind the homunculus. She reached her hand out slowly.

Does it want the little two-leg? She glanced back, meeting the cub’s eyes, frozen wide. Her claws extended to wrap around the child’s arm. It was a simple motion, a gentle one, but she was still a stranger to her own strength, and with just a tinge of pressure, the claws pierced skin. The child screamed.

“Snipers, ready!” the large two-leg shouted.

“No!” the female two-leg spun around, waving frantically. “No, no, hold fire!”

The child’s wailing only grew, their arm colouring crimson. Betty let go, but the noise was too much. The flashing overhead lights, the cries all around her. Shifting metal grinding against one other. Every gaze on her was soaked with hurtful intent, striking into her flesh like nails.

“Betty, calm down, girl!” The female two-leg’s voice shook. She could not fight against her base instincts. Her hand had snapped to her pistol and raised it.

Predator. Weapon. With both jaws open, Betty screeched. Danger.

In the end, she could not fight her instincts either. Betty fell back on all fours, and pounced. She felt the rush of cold wind past her fur, and mid-motion in the air, felt something small and metal impale her neck. Its bite was cold and absolute.