The God Eaters

  As if he'd been eavesdropping, the lesser uniform who'd let him into the room a million aching years ago opened the door and said his name. It was an effort to get out of the chair, and when he walked he stumbled.

  --==*==--

  "Kieran! What did they do to you?" Ash caught his arm as the cell door slammed, to steer him to his bed.

  "Quit touching me," Kieran grumbled, but didn't pull away.

  "I'm sorry. Here --" The redhead rushed to take the blanket from his cot, and when Kieran lay down he spread it over him, looking even whiter than usual. "You're shaking. You look terrible.

  What did they do?"

  "Survey." Kieran swallowed. "Just a Survey."

  "Look how you're sweating. God. Do they do that to everyone?" Ash went away, came back a moment later with a tin cup. "Here. They brought more water while you were gone."

  Kieran levered himself up on one elbow and drained the cup. He remembered to be polite, reward the favor: "Thanks. I'm all right now. Just let me sleep."

  "Sure." Ash went away, but his voice came back after a moment's pause. "I hate that they call it that. It's a lie. As if they're just asking questions. As if it's your own fault that it hurts."

  "Let me sleep," Kieran repeated, too scattered to put any force into it.

  When he woke, it was dark, the darkness filled with snoring. He had turned over in his sleep; what he saw when his eyes opened was Ash, sitting on the edge of the cot opposite, chin in hands, watching him.

  "What the hell are you looking at?" The words came out milder than he'd intended.

  Ash sat up straighter. "Huh? Oh. Sorry. Thinking."

  "How long have you been doing that?"

  "All my life." Ash sounded embarassed by his own weak joke.

  "Well, stop it."

  "Sorry."

  "And stop apologizing."

  The lost look that had been Ash's default expression since the first moment Kieran had seen him went away then, finally chased off by irritation. "Well, what do you expect people to say when you bark at them?"

  Ash, Kieran realized with a sinking feeling, was damned good-looking when he wasn't doing his kicked puppy impression. Maybe it was just the dark. The freckles weren't so obvious, the haloing curls weren't as red, so it was easier to see the clean lines of his face.

  No. I already decided no. Kieran sat up, then put his hands to his head. "Shit. I am so hung over.

  I hope the Colonel was just trying to scare me when he said they were going to Survey me again later."

  "Is that who did it?"

  "Yeah."

  "Tell me about him."

  "How does it matter? You'll find out soon enough."

  "Maybe I can be a little more prepared."

  Kieran's laughter brought a guard to tell them to shut up. When the guard's footsteps had gone far enough down the walkway, he made an effort to speak quietly. "What makes you think," he muttered, "that any damn thing you can do will prepare you in any way for the reaming you're about to get? What good would it do?"

  "I'd be less scared," Ash whispered back. "If I knew what was coming. I don't know. I just don't feel like giving up yet."

  Kieran thought about it, and at last agreed. "I guess making trouble staves off boredom."

  "I was thinking more along the lines of analyzing them the way they're analyzing us. If we can figure out what they're looking for, maybe we can mess with them."

  "Don't see how."

  "Not yet."

  Kieran sighed. "Fine. Something to do, anyway. Not much to tell, though. Bastard's name is Warren, and he's got a mind-probe like an ape with a sledgehammer."

  "Clumsy, eh?"

  "As bad as the jackass who did me at my trial. The last one, I mean. I think worse than the first time, but maybe because back then I didn't have a Talent yet."

  "You think he found what he was looking for?"

  "How the hell should I know?"

  "Ssh! I don't know, but when I was Surveyed I could kind of tell. He was mucking around in there, and he hit something that kind of -- flashed -- and then he stopped."

  "Huh. Nothing like that."

  "I wonder what that means."

  "You go ahead and wonder. I'm going back to sleep."

  "All right, but Kieran?"

  "What?"

  A pause. "Never mind."

  "No, what?"

  Ash's eyes were hard to read in the dark. "I forgot what I was going to say."

  Sure you did. You were going to cross a line, I'll bet. Say something personal. Smart mouse, figured out where to quit. Nevertheless, Kieran found some of his bitterness had faded. He was still angry, but he had it contained now. Futile as it was, Ash's idiotic hope had cooled some of the burn inside his head.

  --==*==--

  The next day, Ash outlined the first stage of his plan.

  "We should find out what Talents these other guys have. They don't send everybody here, right?

  We can figure out what they're studying."

  "Sounds about right." Kieran watched oatmeal drip off his spoon. "What's stage two?"

  "Uh... I'll figure that out when we get the results from stage one."

  Kieran chuckled. "Genius." He bent to gulping down his breakfast, while considering who to approach first. Not that he was real excited about this scheme of Ash's, but it would be interesting to see how people reacted.

  No one had bothered them so far today, but it was only breakfast. It would take people a while to work up their courage, after he took down three big guys the day before and didn't break a sweat.

  Maybe, just maybe, they'd all figured out he was tougher than the lot of them, and there'd be no more fights at all. But Kieran didn't believe in miracles. The structures of power would be more complex than that, and harder to shift. Very few of these men would be able to admit they were outclassed unless the lesson was spelled out in blood.

  "That guy," he said at last, pointing with his spoon at one of the half-mad loners no one ever talked to.

  "Him?" Ash looked skeptical. "What, are you collecting wimps?"

  "Loser unity." Kieran grinned. "No, actually I just figure he won't waste our time with attitude."

  "Loser unity. I like that."

  --==*==--

  "W-what do you w-want?" The man had cornered himself by the fence, and was shaking like an angry kitten. "I d-din' do nothing."

  "Must've done something," Kieran said. "You're here, right?"

  "Din' hurt you none. Got no fight with you."

  "Fine. I just want to know what your Talent is."

  "Why? I never done nothing to you!" His voice climbed to a squeak. "I got no fight with you!"

  Exasperated, Kieran leaned closer. "Look, just answer the damn --"

  The man's eyes rolled up in his head, and he folded into a heap.

  Ash cleared his throat nervously. "Um. Maybe you should let me talk to the little ones."

  Behind them, a familiar voice said, "You won't be satisfied until you've killed us all, will you?"

  Kieran turned with a sigh to confront Duyam Sona, this time with only his broken-nosed monkey to back him up. "What happened to that fat yellow-haired bastard you were dragging around yesterday?"

  "You happened, you shit! He never came back from Testing yesterday. Guess they figured it was easier to get rid of him than stick a plaster on those ribs you broke. Now I see you're picking on the crazy ones."

  "He's okay. I just spooked him." He looked to see if the fainter was up yet. He wasn't. "Ash, give him a hand, would you?" Then he made a startled noise as something hit him in the stomach, hard enough to hurt.

  His body reacted before his mind; the back of his fist sent Sona sprawling. He caught himself beginning the long stride that would lead into a kick to the jaw as Sona started to get up, and was able to turn it into an ordinary step. He planted his feet and waited for Sona to be vertical.

  "I'm bored of fighting you. I gave you a free shot and you didn't even break anything."

 
Sona spat a string of pink saliva. "You killed my brother. You killed my friend. And I'm going to kill you."

  "So do it, for fuck's sake. Don't make a speech first, just grind a spoon handle nice and sharp and stick it in my back. Explain why afterwards, if you have to talk about it. Though you oughtta recognize nobody gives a shit about your reasons. Nobody cares whether you kill me or I kill you."

  "Kaiyo," Sona accused. "You don't care any more for your own life than for any of the poor bastards you murdered."

  "Should I?"

  Sona stared for a long moment. Then he gestured to his monkey and turned away; that stiff-shouldered walk that meant they were trying not run.

  "Kieran, was that a good idea, telling him that?" Ash was doing his puppy face again. "He just might take your advice."

  "So?"

  "I see."

  "You try and get some sense out of the fainting flower. I'll take my scary self somewhere else. If anyone fucks with you, scream like a girl."

  "Oh, yes, very good," Ash said dryly.

  No one started anything with Ash. Kieran pretended to bask by the wall, while with half-closed eyes he followed the coppery gleam of Ash's head around the yard. The white boy got barked at a few times, but no one got physical. When they were back in the cell, he reported his results.

  "I talked to four pyrokinetics and an entropist. I mean, firestarters and a breaker. Also a bunch of guys who wouldn't tell me anything." A flush rose in his cheeks. "Anything useful," he ammended.

  "Did they talk shit to you?"

  "Yeah. But that's not important."

  "No, it is. You're under my protection, I can't let people trash you."

  "Aren't we getting a little sidetracked here?"

  "Yeah, just point 'em out tomorrow and I'll take care of it."

  "I really wish you wouldn't."

  "Don't you listen? That don't matter. Now, you were saying."

  Ash thinned his lips, annoyed, then deliberately relaxed his face. When he spoke, his voice was emotionless. "I was saying. There were a hundred and four men in the yard. So it's possible the percentage of pyros was about on the mark. Rebel intel said the Watch had six percent fire Talents, and I think we can expect the proportion to be roughly the same among men who evaded Survey. Which would be our friends here. With me so far?"

  "Sure."

  "But considering that eighty percent of the ones I spoke to were pyros --"

  "And the other one a breaker, which is also a destructive Talent. But you don't end up in Churchrock just for skipping a Survey. We all got grabbed off the gallows. So I'd say we learned jack shit today."

  Ash looked a bit taken aback, as if he hadn't expected Kieran to actually grasp what he was talking about. He rallied, though, and went on, "What about kinesis? It's the most common Talent. Maybe I just missed them all, I know the data pool is too small for any kind of conclusion, but kinetics are very common and there were none. Kinetics do crimes too, right?"

  "I wish we had something to write on. Or with." Kieran flopped down on his cot, pondering.

  "I'll pester the guards."

  Kieran raised an eyebrow. "Think that'll work?"

  "No harm in trying."

  "Not for you, I guess. Anyway, unless you can keep all this shit in your head, it's gone, because I have a brain like a sieve."

  "I can remember what we have so far. If the sample reflects the general case at all, we know they've been studying fire Talents, and our inclusion indicates a new direction. I'd like to know what Talent that blond man had, the one who disappeared." After a while he added, "That Burdock fellow, the one from the train -- I haven't seen him."

  "Maybe I killed him after all. I sure as hell concussed him."

  Ash looked disturbed. "Why did you, anyway? You hadn't decided to make a pet of me yet.

  What did you care if he attacked me?"

  Kieran opened his mouth to reply, but hesitated. Ash probably knew what reactions he inspired, how everyone who didn't want to abuse him needed to protect him, but Kieran didn't feel like admitting out loud how reflexive it had been. "I knew him in Burn River," he prevaricated. It was technically true. "The man was a stain."

  "Old grudge?"

  "Just never liked him. He was muscle for my old boss. Pyro. He was the favorite toy before I came along. Didn't see a lot of him, but when I did he always acted all yessir-nosir, 'cause he was scared of me, and then he'd talk shit behind my back. Guess when he called you a pansy it reminded me."

  "Oh." Ash studied the floor, while his ears slowly turned pink. That was interesting. "So you don't think he really believed..."

  "Nah. He would've called you a cocksucker, if he thought you really were. That's what he liked to say about me, when he was sure I was out of earshot." Kieran chuckled. "Closet case if I ever saw one."

  Blushing in earnest now, Ash said, "Is there any other kind? I mean, it's illegal."

  "Well, there's me." Kieran shrugged, pretending not to watch Ash's reaction. "I'm a fucking murderer, what do I care if people know who I sleep with? You got a problem with it?"

  Ash's eyes flashed panic, and he babbled. "No! Of course not. You are what you are, right? I mean, thank you for being honest. Not that you care what I think."

  Kieran laughed. "Didn't mean to spook you."

  "I'm not spooked. It's just you don't often hear someone just come out with it like that. Roughly never, in fact. I wouldn't presume to judge -- if I thought there was a judgement to be made, which of course -- what I mean is --"

  "Okay."

  "Quit laughing at me!"

  "Can't. You're too fucking funny." But Kieran was laughing at himself as well, and at circumstance; after he'd decided not to develop an interest in Ash, it looked like Ash already had an interest in him. But the northerner didn't want to admit it, which was only reasonable, so he figured he could get away with ignoring it a while longer. Maybe it would go away.

  Footsteps approached their cell. "Ashleigh Trine."

  Ash sighed. "My turn."

  "Good luck," Kieran said wryly. He knew that there was no such thing.

  --==*==--

  Roughly an hour later, he heard a sound like a child crying. As it came closer, he went to the bars; the bawling noise was Ash, walking ahead of the guard with a stiff-legged gait like a broken machine, arms dangling, mouth wide open and emitting periodic gasps and hiccups.

  Ash looked like a congenital idiot. The guard looked ashamed.

  "Step back from the door." The guard had to repeat himself before Kieran moved. Kieran backed away, staring horrified at the red-eyed, wet-faced thing in front of him.

  Ash was let into the cell, and went to the back corner, where he put his face to the wall, hugging himself. After locking the door, the guard stayed for a moment before stomping away. Kieran hesitated quite a bit longer.

  There was a dark streak of sweat down the back of Ash's shirt. His rust-colored hair was almost straight now, strands plastered to his thin white neck. His narrow shoulders were shaking irregularly, his fingernails white where he clutched his elbows. Spectacularly pathetic. Seeing Ash like this this made Kieran want to tear down the world and stomp on the wreckage.

  The impulse rushed through him to rip the weeping boy apart, to make him stop, to make him cease to be as if he'd never been. He made himself take a deep breath, waited for the urge to pass.

  Then the second impulse came: to clutch this fragile creature tightly in his arms and never let anyone come near him again. He conquered that as well. Only when he'd let go of both rage and pity did he reason a course of action. He needed Ash to be sane, and to depend on him, to use his harmlessness on the guards and weaker inmates. He had to be helped. But Kieran must not betray the weakness in himself.

  Taking the blanket from Ash's bed, he approached with the care one used on an unfamiliar dog.

  "Hey," he said softly.

  Ash sniffed. "Don't look at me." His voice was small.

  "Sure. Okay." Kieran draped the blanket arou
nd Ash's shoulders. "Come out of there. You should lie down."

  "Don't want to." But he let himself be steered, clutching his blanket. On the bed, he curled up in a ball. There he continued to bawl intermittently.

  Not enough. Kieran searched his memory for ways to calm a distraught person. There weren't many. It had been a long time since he'd cared whether anyone was upset, and longer since anyone had given him that consideration. After several minutes of watching Ash shudder with sobs, he remembered something -- far too intimate, it would be taken wrong, but he had to make the crying stop.