THE WOLF WITH THE SILVER BLUE HANDS: BAD SILVER by Eric Ellert

Author:Eric Ellert [Ellert, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Published: 2018-06-05T16:00:00+00:00

***

Rau took her by the hand and they hurried out of the fog to a row of old, cinderblock barracks. 1940's war architecture she guessed. Lots of dad's bases had left-over buildings, all of them like this.

He led her inside the nearest building, though without doors or windows, inside and outside was a bit of a guess. The foliage thought so too.

"Is my mother here?"

"Yes and no. She's ok, for now."

Faudron held her breath and pulled her hair back, pressing her hands hard against her temples, trying to find the part of her brain that wanted to curse at him for being so off the track, as if they had a hundred years to do a day's searching. "Yes or no, no one ever says yes or no around here. There's always a secret, always a screwball reason people do the things they do. And what's it to you, really? You probably can't even catch a cold. Just call for help. Let 'em bring in Predators. Stop this place; catch this place. I don't know why you bother; they'd cut you're throat if they could only get inside your house."

"You finished."

"I think I love you."

He pretended not to hear her. "She's in the Back Beyond."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Rau spoke to Faudron as if she was stupider than the lama, over-pronouncing each word as if it was her second language and not his. "Easy, the Nords can listen sometimes."

"They do?"

"Trust me on that. If I said there's politics involved, would that do?"

"No. Unspit. The lama spits when it doesn't want to answer a question, that's what your doing."

"Oh. You two don't get along? She's a bit more than a lama, bit less than relative, but a bit more than a lama."

"You're not like us. That's what worries me. I think we're like those people on islands they used to move to test A-bombs. They gave them checks and they bought Cadillacs and ran around and around their new island. We're better off as we were."

"If I said we're people as you are people, it would be true." He took a step outside, looked around, found nothing and came back to her. "And of course there's a certain protocol and-"

"-Protocol doesn't cut it."

"If I followed you." He pointed southeast. "Right out the front gate and I said where I came from and what goes on here. They'd just let me go?"

"She's my mother," Faudron whispered.

"Your parents were given to the people on this island to study. It's all over, it's all done, but no one can just come out and admit what they did. Neither your government nor mine can get away with killing everyone here until they've given themselves enough time to try to make it right."

"Take me back. This is a waste of time. I'll ask Splinter, the corpsmen. Two, three days and a wakeup. Who care's what they do?"

"Your mother was raised here. By us. Some of ours were taken to other places and raised like you. She is of us.

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