The Telling of One Billion Ghost Stories (draft) - Part 11
Happy birthday to factorielle! Didn't get the opportunity to get a new ficlet written for the occasion, but at least I've got another part of Ghost Stories to share. ^^;
This would be the first part of what I've got mentally labeled as the third major section of the story, just for the record.
Other parts so far: The original ficlets, Plot notes, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10
By the time Watanuki’s wound had begun fading to an old scar, winter had well and truly set in. This was the bad time of year, when there was rarely enough fuel to keep them all as warm as they’d have liked, and never enough sunshine to keep Fye’s solar panels working at even half their capacity. The security system and electric fence, which had been fired up to a level Fye cheerfully described to the rest of them as ‘crispy’ in the weeks after Watanuki’s injury, was returned back to its lowest setting to conserve power. Even Chi would spend much of the winter in standby mode.
It could have been far worse though, back in the days when acid storms had been more common. At least fresh water was never in short supply this time of year. Doumeki had heard it used to snow in this part of the country, back in the days Before - the rain turning to white flakes of ice that buried the world for weeks on end. He could hardly picture what it must have been like himself.
Of course, that was back in the ‘Better days’ - a time that was little more than a story to anyone of his age or younger. He had grown up in this world, but he had also grown up knowing his world was wrong. His generation were like the first children born to pioneers in a newly settled land, growing up on stories of the old country - one somehow more real than the one his eyes and ears could tell him about. It was going to take a few more generations yet before that went away.
Still, that day might be coming faster than it should be. People died young these days, and even Kurogane and Fye were only old enough that the world from Before was a faint, childhood memory, if that. The stories Fye told about it were ones he’d heard in his own childhood and learned to repeat, and as with all of Fye’s stories, their accuracy was somewhat questionable. Fye never let the truth get in the way of a good tale.
***
There was never another sighting made of the gang that had attacked Doumeki and Watanuki in the old city. If any members had survived both that encounter and life in a region ruled by the likes of Kamui and Fuuma for this long, it would have been better luck than most of their sort enjoyed. By the time Fye was forced to downgrade their security again for the winter, no-one felt greatly threatened by it.
Chi could never be taken completely offline though, not when a new weather forecast could come in at any time. There were no more acid storms that year, however, shortly before midwinter, Chi retrieved a message of a different kind, the first of a very interesting sequence which followed over the next few days.
The nearest Complex to Kurogane’s campsite was a few days’ travel away from them, and a fairly modest example of its kind. However, there was another, much grander one a few weeks journey further on - further than anyone would regularly travel in country like this. The messages reported that the harvest had been good there - they had more food this year than they could either use or store. However, their supplies of other much-needed materials were growing thin. In their eyes, it was the ideal time to organise some trade.
But the other Complex - their nearest neighbour with the desired supplies - seemed to feel differently. Their own harvest had been less plentiful, but far from dire, and their existing stores would be more than enough to see them through the coming year. They were open to trade, but saw no need to make such a long journey through the hostile country that separated the two Complexes in the dead of winter. If the need remained in the spring, then perhaps - and the ‘perhaps’ as Fye relayed it sounded very uncertain indeed - some kind of arrangement could be made then.
The members of Kurogane’s camp listened in with interest as those messages went back and forth without any new resolution being reached, relayed by Chi and occasionally translated again Fye where the official language in which they were phrased got a bit thick. Watanuki and the two younger members of their group didn’t seem to have any clear idea what the fuss was about, but to Kurogane and Fye - and to Doumeki with a little thought - the news began to raise some very interesting possibilities indeed.
***
“Not your usual news,” Fuuma said to Doumeki, after being delivered a summarised version of the tale, while he lounged against an old wall. In the middle of a wasteland, Fuuma could still find something to lounge against when he wanted it. He sounded interested, though possibly not for the right reasons.
“Here’s part of the list of what they’re looking for - and what it’s worth to them,” said Doumeki, passing the list over. Fuuma gave it a cursory glance.
“I take it you’re suggesting we might be interested in doing some trading ourselves,” he said thoughtfully. “But that’s an awfully long way to go for a little food. Always a useful resource, but we’re not exactly starved for it around here, if you understand my problem.”
“This isn’t any old dead animal,” said Doumeki. “The food they’re offering is vegetable matter - the kind with all the nutrients we get least of out here. It’ll be processed to the point that it would keep for ages as long as it’s kept safe and cool. They were offering extra as compensation for the journey too.”
“Sounds like you feel you’ve come across some valuable information,” said Fuuma, looking at them over his sunglasses.
“It’s no use to us as is,” Doumeki admitted. “We have some of the supplies they want, but we can’t spare the people or the vehicles for a journey like that. We need transport and protection to make any use of this.”
“And in return, we get to do some trading of our own,” Fuuma surmised, holding up the list. “Though you did say, this is only part of the list of what they wanted.”
And here they came to the messy part of this. “Part of it we’re keeping. The rest, we gave to the Diet Building.”
Fuuma’s smile never even faltered.
“We’re not in a position where we can afford to take sides with information like this,” said Doumeki firmly.
“And what did our Kamui have to say about your proposal?” Fuuma asked.
“He’s considering it,” Doumeki reported. “We’ll hear from them if they decide to accept. Someone from our camp will be travelling with whoever takes us up on the offer - both parties together, if it comes to that. The Complex won’t know we’re coming, and we can’t guarantee they’ll trade with us, but they’ve dealt with outsiders in the past. We’re willing to risk it.”
“A very unusual proposition indeed,” Fuuma concluded.
“Well?”
“Naturally, you’ll have to give us a chance to decide whether we’ve got these supplies to spare,” said Fuuma. “And whether we can spare the people and the fuel. You’ll hear from us if we decide to take you up on it.”
***
“They’re both being vague about it,” Syaoran reported to Kurogane later. “Neither will give us just a yes or a no.”
“After all these years of complaining we never bring them good news,” Kurogane grumbled.
“We’ve gone and made it political for them,” said Fye. “They’ll probably both be spying on the other now to see whether they’ll be going.”
“They’re not going to want to travel together, are they?” said Syaoran.
“Not in principle,” said Fye, “but neither of them will want to risk being the ones who don’t go, either. I think we might have handled this quite nicely. I wouldn’t worry about Fuuma - he always has to be mysterious about things, it’s just his nature - or persona, or whatever you want to call it.”
“You’ve never met Fuuma,” said Kurogane.
“I might’ve done,” said Fye. “I didn’t grow up all that far from here. You and I didn’t meet far from here either.”
“If you had met him, you’d have told us about it.” Kurogane gritted his teeth. “At length.”
“Not if it didn’t make much of a story. I could’ve done all kinds of things you don’t know about!” Fye argued. Kurogane rolled his eyes.
Whether he’d ever met Fuuma or Kamui or not, Fye’s prediction was spot on. Messengers came from both the Diet Building and the Tower the very following day, arriving only an hour apart. Even the day for departure each wanted was the same, which was interesting in all sorts of ways which only Fye could ever have made any sense of.
From there, all that remained was to finalise their own plans and supplies for the journey.
***
Watanuki looked almost betrayed when he was relayed the news. “You’ll be gone a month?”
“You want to come too?” said Doumeki, not really offering.
Watanuki looked at him in disgust. “To a Complex? Are you mad? Do you have any idea what they do to people? Do you have any idea how many people die cursing them out here?”
“Rather not,” said Doumeki, skipping the whole belief thing for once. “We don’t get to be picky who we trade with.”
“And what about the company you’re going to be keeping? You’re going to spend the whole trip making sure they don’t all kill each other!”
“No-one from the Tower and the Diet Building ever kill each other,” said Doumeki. To Watanuki’s disbelieving look, he clarified, “They fight all the time, but there aren’t any fatalities. There’d be no-one left on either side by now if they did. It’s only outsiders they kill.”
Watanuki took on one of those familiar looks of his that meant he had once again concluded that not only was everyone in this camp insane, the problem had spread to everyone else in the rest of the region too - excepting him, and he wasn’t even sure about that anymore.
If this was the last Doumeki was going to see of him before he left, it wouldn’t be an inappropriate last impression.
Vaguely related: Finding three mostly-healed, parallel cuts on the side of one's forehead after writing something like this, and then realising one has no recollection of how they got there, is a decidedly surreal experience.
This would be the first part of what I've got mentally labeled as the third major section of the story, just for the record.
Other parts so far: The original ficlets, Plot notes, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10
By the time Watanuki’s wound had begun fading to an old scar, winter had well and truly set in. This was the bad time of year, when there was rarely enough fuel to keep them all as warm as they’d have liked, and never enough sunshine to keep Fye’s solar panels working at even half their capacity. The security system and electric fence, which had been fired up to a level Fye cheerfully described to the rest of them as ‘crispy’ in the weeks after Watanuki’s injury, was returned back to its lowest setting to conserve power. Even Chi would spend much of the winter in standby mode.
It could have been far worse though, back in the days when acid storms had been more common. At least fresh water was never in short supply this time of year. Doumeki had heard it used to snow in this part of the country, back in the days Before - the rain turning to white flakes of ice that buried the world for weeks on end. He could hardly picture what it must have been like himself.
Of course, that was back in the ‘Better days’ - a time that was little more than a story to anyone of his age or younger. He had grown up in this world, but he had also grown up knowing his world was wrong. His generation were like the first children born to pioneers in a newly settled land, growing up on stories of the old country - one somehow more real than the one his eyes and ears could tell him about. It was going to take a few more generations yet before that went away.
Still, that day might be coming faster than it should be. People died young these days, and even Kurogane and Fye were only old enough that the world from Before was a faint, childhood memory, if that. The stories Fye told about it were ones he’d heard in his own childhood and learned to repeat, and as with all of Fye’s stories, their accuracy was somewhat questionable. Fye never let the truth get in the way of a good tale.
***
There was never another sighting made of the gang that had attacked Doumeki and Watanuki in the old city. If any members had survived both that encounter and life in a region ruled by the likes of Kamui and Fuuma for this long, it would have been better luck than most of their sort enjoyed. By the time Fye was forced to downgrade their security again for the winter, no-one felt greatly threatened by it.
Chi could never be taken completely offline though, not when a new weather forecast could come in at any time. There were no more acid storms that year, however, shortly before midwinter, Chi retrieved a message of a different kind, the first of a very interesting sequence which followed over the next few days.
The nearest Complex to Kurogane’s campsite was a few days’ travel away from them, and a fairly modest example of its kind. However, there was another, much grander one a few weeks journey further on - further than anyone would regularly travel in country like this. The messages reported that the harvest had been good there - they had more food this year than they could either use or store. However, their supplies of other much-needed materials were growing thin. In their eyes, it was the ideal time to organise some trade.
But the other Complex - their nearest neighbour with the desired supplies - seemed to feel differently. Their own harvest had been less plentiful, but far from dire, and their existing stores would be more than enough to see them through the coming year. They were open to trade, but saw no need to make such a long journey through the hostile country that separated the two Complexes in the dead of winter. If the need remained in the spring, then perhaps - and the ‘perhaps’ as Fye relayed it sounded very uncertain indeed - some kind of arrangement could be made then.
The members of Kurogane’s camp listened in with interest as those messages went back and forth without any new resolution being reached, relayed by Chi and occasionally translated again Fye where the official language in which they were phrased got a bit thick. Watanuki and the two younger members of their group didn’t seem to have any clear idea what the fuss was about, but to Kurogane and Fye - and to Doumeki with a little thought - the news began to raise some very interesting possibilities indeed.
***
“Not your usual news,” Fuuma said to Doumeki, after being delivered a summarised version of the tale, while he lounged against an old wall. In the middle of a wasteland, Fuuma could still find something to lounge against when he wanted it. He sounded interested, though possibly not for the right reasons.
“Here’s part of the list of what they’re looking for - and what it’s worth to them,” said Doumeki, passing the list over. Fuuma gave it a cursory glance.
“I take it you’re suggesting we might be interested in doing some trading ourselves,” he said thoughtfully. “But that’s an awfully long way to go for a little food. Always a useful resource, but we’re not exactly starved for it around here, if you understand my problem.”
“This isn’t any old dead animal,” said Doumeki. “The food they’re offering is vegetable matter - the kind with all the nutrients we get least of out here. It’ll be processed to the point that it would keep for ages as long as it’s kept safe and cool. They were offering extra as compensation for the journey too.”
“Sounds like you feel you’ve come across some valuable information,” said Fuuma, looking at them over his sunglasses.
“It’s no use to us as is,” Doumeki admitted. “We have some of the supplies they want, but we can’t spare the people or the vehicles for a journey like that. We need transport and protection to make any use of this.”
“And in return, we get to do some trading of our own,” Fuuma surmised, holding up the list. “Though you did say, this is only part of the list of what they wanted.”
And here they came to the messy part of this. “Part of it we’re keeping. The rest, we gave to the Diet Building.”
Fuuma’s smile never even faltered.
“We’re not in a position where we can afford to take sides with information like this,” said Doumeki firmly.
“And what did our Kamui have to say about your proposal?” Fuuma asked.
“He’s considering it,” Doumeki reported. “We’ll hear from them if they decide to accept. Someone from our camp will be travelling with whoever takes us up on the offer - both parties together, if it comes to that. The Complex won’t know we’re coming, and we can’t guarantee they’ll trade with us, but they’ve dealt with outsiders in the past. We’re willing to risk it.”
“A very unusual proposition indeed,” Fuuma concluded.
“Well?”
“Naturally, you’ll have to give us a chance to decide whether we’ve got these supplies to spare,” said Fuuma. “And whether we can spare the people and the fuel. You’ll hear from us if we decide to take you up on it.”
***
“They’re both being vague about it,” Syaoran reported to Kurogane later. “Neither will give us just a yes or a no.”
“After all these years of complaining we never bring them good news,” Kurogane grumbled.
“We’ve gone and made it political for them,” said Fye. “They’ll probably both be spying on the other now to see whether they’ll be going.”
“They’re not going to want to travel together, are they?” said Syaoran.
“Not in principle,” said Fye, “but neither of them will want to risk being the ones who don’t go, either. I think we might have handled this quite nicely. I wouldn’t worry about Fuuma - he always has to be mysterious about things, it’s just his nature - or persona, or whatever you want to call it.”
“You’ve never met Fuuma,” said Kurogane.
“I might’ve done,” said Fye. “I didn’t grow up all that far from here. You and I didn’t meet far from here either.”
“If you had met him, you’d have told us about it.” Kurogane gritted his teeth. “At length.”
“Not if it didn’t make much of a story. I could’ve done all kinds of things you don’t know about!” Fye argued. Kurogane rolled his eyes.
Whether he’d ever met Fuuma or Kamui or not, Fye’s prediction was spot on. Messengers came from both the Diet Building and the Tower the very following day, arriving only an hour apart. Even the day for departure each wanted was the same, which was interesting in all sorts of ways which only Fye could ever have made any sense of.
From there, all that remained was to finalise their own plans and supplies for the journey.
***
Watanuki looked almost betrayed when he was relayed the news. “You’ll be gone a month?”
“You want to come too?” said Doumeki, not really offering.
Watanuki looked at him in disgust. “To a Complex? Are you mad? Do you have any idea what they do to people? Do you have any idea how many people die cursing them out here?”
“Rather not,” said Doumeki, skipping the whole belief thing for once. “We don’t get to be picky who we trade with.”
“And what about the company you’re going to be keeping? You’re going to spend the whole trip making sure they don’t all kill each other!”
“No-one from the Tower and the Diet Building ever kill each other,” said Doumeki. To Watanuki’s disbelieving look, he clarified, “They fight all the time, but there aren’t any fatalities. There’d be no-one left on either side by now if they did. It’s only outsiders they kill.”
Watanuki took on one of those familiar looks of his that meant he had once again concluded that not only was everyone in this camp insane, the problem had spread to everyone else in the rest of the region too - excepting him, and he wasn’t even sure about that anymore.
If this was the last Doumeki was going to see of him before he left, it wouldn’t be an inappropriate last impression.
Vaguely related: Finding three mostly-healed, parallel cuts on the side of one's forehead after writing something like this, and then realising one has no recollection of how they got there, is a decidedly surreal experience.