“You are out of ya bloody mind, Jack.” Candace growled, stomping around, which was a feat in itself because the hut she was confined to was tiny, and crammed with people. “There’s a whole heap of violent fuckin’ blokes loitering around our camp, nicking our shite and gobbling our chow! They killed Ali, and I fuckin’ barely had time to meet the man! The moment we come out, they defo goin’ to abandon the pretense of playing nice, they fuckin’ beat us to a pulp, rape us, and kill our arses dead, not necessarily in that order.”

  “She is not entirely wrong,” Gordo said. “If we surrender and get out, we lose the one bargaining card we have, and one which I remind you, is blank anyway.” He was careful to avoid speaking in specifics around the Nun, who was listening to them with rapt attention.

  “Goodness gracious, children,” she spoke up, “have we nae suffered enough already? We are all scared, and hurt, and lost people we cared aboot. And we are God kens where, impossibly far from home. How aboot we have a go at trying tae trust each other for a change? Just let me go and I sort it all out. ”

  Gordo snorted. “All respect lady, but I do not think these men can be kept reasonable with appeals to Jesus and your motherly wisdom.”

  “That was nae respectful, lad. And you would be surprised. Our Lord works in mysterious ways, and sae dae I. And I dae have a plan. We need the Big Mosleem Bloke to wake up and roar at them. That seems tae dae the trick every time.”

  “Let's just let her go,” I pleaded. “She is the only person around who knows anything about healing, and my friend is dying as we speak. Not to mention, they have Bill, and while Danton hasn’t framed this as such, he is as much a hostage as the Nun is.”

  “They can keep the Yankee bogan for all I care,” Candace fumed. “He’s just as bad as the lot of them.”

  I sighed and tore at my sparse scalp in frustration.

  “Vote?” I asked. “I'm pretty sure most of us are in favor of a peaceful solution to this-”

  “No! No voting, you weak-arsed cunt! Don’t put that on the rest of us!” Candace growled, shaking me by the shoulders, “This is your bloody camp, and your bloody… thing we’re guarding. You are the one man keepin’ this whole thing together, being chums with one group and the other, and even the damned otters! Be a fucking leader for once, and lead! Make a decision for Chrissake!”

  I gritted my teeth. Candace was one of the most infuriating people I have ever met. Worse still when she was right.

  Someone had to be in charge.

  Someone reasonable.

  Otherwise, hotheads like Candace or Billy, or the Ape-boy who came with Danton, would just rip each other's throats out and plunge us all into bloodshed. If Baba were lucid, and not severely injured, I would have begged him to take charge of the situation. But he was barely clinging to life. And even if we managed to heal him, it would have taken weeks for him to recover.

  I sighed and nodded.

  ?Then my decision is, we're letting her go," I saw everyone except the Nun and the tiny Nakry sitting beside her open their mouths to argue. "Hey! You wanted me to decide, I'm deciding it, shut up! We're doing it, but we're going to play it smart. Mary Bridgitte, wait here for a minute more. I will call you when I'm ready.”

  Candace gave me an appreciative nod which I returned with an icy glare. Just because she was right, did not mean I didn't hate her for it right then. I unbolted the door and got out.

  The Apes, for this is how the young men under Danton’s charge called themselves, were gone. Just as agreed, they remained outside my palisade, but I knew this was not enough. This could not last.

  Especially not after the truth about the Duplicators would inevitably come out.

  With a heavy heart, I shuffled towards the river, grabbed a handful of pine cones, and tossed them into the water. I did not have to wait long. A dozen brown-black heads popped out, and fixed their gaze on me.

  There was nothing playful left in their eyes, not anymore.

  The reeds rustled, and the Alpha Female came out. For a second, I thought she would attack me, but she stopped right in front of me and stood up on its hind legs, its face next to mine. Slowly, very, very slowly, I craned my neck to let her sniff and nuzzle my throat.

  I saw she was injured, there was a shallow gash across her back. Danton's men failed to truly hurt her or her children, which was probably the only reason why they weren't all massacred.

  It struck me again how reasonable, forgiving, and compassionate these creatures were.

  I almost felt ashamed to be a human, because with almost every encounter, it was us, the Bipedal Apes that reacted with idiotic violence, and it was the otters that defended themselves, never doing more harm to us than necessary. They even defended humans that they seem to have adopted, for no other reason than because it was the right thing to do.

  ?I'm sorry, girl,” I said softly, rubbing my forehead against hers. ?I really don't want to rope your people into this conflict. But without your help, there will never be peace.”

  It seemed like she understood me.

  Or maybe I was imagining it.

  ?Danton!” I shouted. ?We need to talk.”

  A minute later the man came to the gate of my palisade. He was no longer leaning on a spear, but using one of my old crutches instead. As far as I could see, he was unarmed and had a calm, friendly smile plastered on his face. That smile froze into a rictus when he saw the Otter Mother, who instantly tensed and growled at him, her hackles raised.

  ? Easy, girl,” I whispered. And hugged her neck, ?I won't let the man hurt your family.”

  ?That is as far as you go, Danton. I'm on friendly terms with the otters, but I do not control them. The interior of this camp is off-limits to you, if you value your life. The same goes for your men.”

  ?We already agreed on that.” Captain answered, ?I heard you loud and clear. No need to sic your dogs on me.”

  ?For both of our sakes, I hope you're telling the truth. But see, my opinion on the fellow man has fallen below rock bottom lately. And I'm running low on trust. So I want to make it extra sure that we understand each other. Keep your Apes away from my camp. Keep yourself away from my camp. I would really prefer it if we were allies. But as this doesn't seem to work, let's agree on being good neighbors instead. Good neighbors do not invade each other's houses uninvited, and do not steal each other's stuff. And definitely, good neighbors do not kill each other's friends. Human or otherwise.”

  ?You have my word.” He responded.

  ?I don't know you. And I don't know if your word is worth a damn. You did not seem greatly perturbed by one of your own dying. Or the killing of one of mine, which makes me wonder what kind of a man are you?”

  Danton stared at me for a few seconds, before responding. It almost looked like I overdid it, and offended him somehow. But then his thin-lipped smile crept back.

  ?I'm not a good man, Jack that much I admit. And I'm sure this is something you already figured out. Good men do not fare well in places like this.”

  ?Baba was a good man,” I responded. ?And he survived here for many months.” I felt a pang of guilt, using the past tense when it came to my friend. It was almost like I gave up on him.

  ?Oh, yes. The sergeant is a very good man. Honorable. Heroic. He is also a dying man, because he risked his life to save others. Connect the dots. But my point was, you might end up not liking me. But you can be certain of one thing, I am a man of my word. I do exactly what I say and I say exactly what I do. If we come to an understanding, I will abide by it. And so will my men.”

  ?Really?” I almost snorted. ?All this mess started because your men did not hold discipline and then defied your orders.”

  He did not respond to that, for a long while. Finally, he said,

  ?I talked to the rest of them. And made my point clear, that the next man who defies me like that, or endangers our peaceful coexistence will be personally killed by me. Unlike you, my Apes know me well enough to understand that this is exactly what would happen. I can keep them well-behaved. And-” He added more nonchalantly, ?Once we are done with our little chat, and when our one and only healer is allowed to tend to Baba, and use your bandages and medical supplies, we might be able to save his life. You might not trust me, but I hope you trust him. So why don't we focus on keeping him alive? And then we'll see.”

  ?I have no problem releasing the Nun,” I responded. ?I’ll do it right now. But the rational thing to do would be for your women to bring Baba here. We can keep him under the roof, with our supplies nearby. That would increase his chances of survival.”

  He grinned. ?Ah, there it is. So the rules do not apply if it's convenient for you.”

  ?Yes,” I said matter of factly. “Because I have all the advantages and you have none. Provisionally, let's agree to something like this; the Nun and the rest of the women of your group can join us in the camp if they want to. And go in and out as they please, as long as they're not carrying out supplies that we do not approve of, and remain unarmed. Your men stay outside. We promise to provide for them. Everyone will be given food, clothing, and shelter. But if your men try to enter my camp, I will not stop the otters from slaughtering them. And it's not a threat, I'm simply unable to. I can't control them. They're not my pets. I'm theirs.”

  ?Can you guarantee that the otters will not attack the women?” He asked. “My boys risked their lives to protect the Nun and the rest of the girls for weeks on end. I'd rather not see them torn limb from limb by your doggies.”

  ?As far as I know,” I said, ? The women from your group did not attack my people nor did they hurt the otters. And they had not stomped around this clearing, spears in hand. You'd be surprised how reasonable the otters can be if you do not attack them first.”

  ?We'll do it your way, Jack. You're in charge,” He said with nearly believable sincerity. ?I will ask the women to bring Baba here. All I'm asking in return, Is that most of them could go back with supplies, to help the rest of my injured men. We are starved and cold. And we need weapons. Believe me when I say that the otters are not even the greatest danger we face.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  I shrugged ?I'm pretty sure I faced every beast this world could throw at me and survived. You’ll manage.”

  ?I'm pretty sure you haven’t faced what we had,” Danton said. ?If you did, you would be dead, and we would not be having this conversation.”

  With that, he nodded and excused himself.

  “Please come out Mary Brigitte,” I called. She joined me soon after. No longer naked, she repurposed one of the tunics we finally got made for Gordo as her frock, wrapped a kerchief over her head, and added a hood to go with it. With thick, tar-soaked galoshes on her feet and the bag of bandages at her hip, she looked perfectly in her element. This was exactly how I pictured a no-nonsense, aid-worker nun to look like, and she was one.

  She waddled towards the otter, showing no fear.

  The otter licked her face with variness but not aggression.

  For a few seconds, they stared at one another, two old Alpha females more concerned with the survival of their packs than their own. There seemed to be an instant understanding without words.

  ?What a braw lassie you are!” The Nun exclaimed, ? Must be one o’ the finest creatures in all God's creation.”

  ? Most people react to them with more fear,” I said.

  Mary Brigitte smiled.

  “I'm nae most people, Jackie,” she said, patting me on the shoulder. “And neither are you. You should have learned it by now, most folk dae nae fare well in this place. The few o’ us nae eaten yet, are all the kind with iron in our spines, and at least some brains between the ears.” She paused. “Though nae all of us have enough love in our hearts, I suppose.”

  I nodded. “I hope you have no hard feelings about, you know…”

  “Bein’ kidnapped?” she chuckled. “Believe me, I have been kidnapped by muckle worse individuals than your friend Candace. I worked in war-torn Rwanda, Congo, and Afghanistan, saw things, and had things done tae me, when trying to prevent worse things from happening tae others. It takes a wee bit more tae faze me, than an crabbit lass with a sharp stick. ”

  We watched a group of women bring in Baba on a makeshift stretcher. Four carried him, the Buzcut Lady led them, spear in hand. She had sharp, aquiline features and coal-black eyes, which combined with her severe haircut and focused stare made her look predatory and intimidating.

  Like another lady that I knew.

  As if on cue, Candace got out of the hut, chopper-spear over her shoulder, a bag of food and tunics over the other. She briskly crossed the path of the stretcher carriers, dropped the bag at their feet, and pointed the chopper almost, but not quite, at them.

  “Pretty damn sure Jack was clear in his message, nobody comes in bearing weapons,” she stated looming over the smaller woman.

  “And I'm pretty sure this rule applied to Theo’s men. I am no man.” the Buzzcut Lady smirked.

  “You bein’ cheeky with me, Sheila?” Candace’s naginata marginally lowered, into a position in which one swift swing would have disemboweled the other woman.

  “Name’s Riva, not Sheila. Or Corporal Riva Cohen for civs like you.”

  Candace barked a laugh, “Corporal? Bloody Hell girl, If you feel like pulling rank, first make sure it’s substantial. Go fuck yourself with your Girlscout credentials.”

  I gently inserted myself between the two, and grabbed both of their weapons.

  “Is this dick-measuring contest necessary, given that neither of you sport one?” I turned to Riva, “Candace is right though, please leave the spear by the gate. Nobody means you and yours any harm here, and in any event, we have the otters of mass destruction on our side, so the spear would do you little good.”

  Riva switched her angry gaze from Candace to me, but ultimately nodded with slight hesitation. “Have it your way. But if anyone-” she looked at Candace, “so much as cuts a hair off their heads…”

  “Yes, we ken, now begone lass, let us dae our thing, before the poor man expires,” Brigitte interjected.

  I gave the Nun a knowing sigh, to which she responded with a weary eye-roll. I had to admit, she definitely had more experience dealing with strong-willed women than I did, so I decided to let her handle such matters in the future. If I were to be a leader, my first decision would be to delegate just about everything I possibly could.

  Riva and her friends took the bag and reluctantly left, pushed out by Candace’s challenging gaze.

  “Now,” The Nun said, looking at Baba’s unconscious form. “Let us see aboot the possibility o’ making this big lunk a little less dead. Candace dearie, fetch the Argentinian lad, if you please. He might come in handy.”

  She rolled up her sleeves and set to work.

  Gordo came, bearing a tray of clay jars filled with a variety of noxious tinctures. Mary Brigitte sniffed all of them, making alternatively approving or disapproving noises, and finally settled on a few she deemed safe.

  They engaged in a hushed conversation, which combined chemistry lingo I could not follow with a potent dose of probing passive-aggressive verbal sparring. It seemed to me that with the two of them being both intensely likable people, but also complete opposites by just about every social metric, they could not help but snark good-naturedly at one another.

  “So? What’s the prognosis?” I gestured at Baba, impatient to know.

  “Our dear Mother Superior rejected my idea of just cleansing the wound with alcohol and then putting an alkaline dressing on it, to let the body do the work. Instead, we will be doing impromptu surgery and witchcraft.” Gordo said with a wry smile.

  “Yes, we could dae just what the dashing Latino boy suggested. Then our dear Baba would just die o’ sepsis, or, if Saint Raphael miraculously intervened on behalf of the man’s misguided Mosleem soul, just lose his hand tae inevitable necrosis and amputation that is sure tae follow,” the Nun shrugged, as if giving such dire medical news to someone was an everyday occurrence to her, which it I supposed, it was. She likely cut open, patched, healed, and often buried people years before I was even born.

  “Do your thing, m’am,‘ I nodded. “Gordo will assist you.” I furred my brow at him, which completely failed to intimidate him, but he nodded. “Just tell us what you need.”

  She squinted at the wound, which she uncovered in the meantime. The green goop seemed to have sponged most of the pus out, exposing a nasty hole, as if something bit out a chunk of Baba’s forearm, just above the wrist.

  Not something, I corrected myself.

  Someone.

  Those were human teeth marks, Enormous ones.

  I gasped and looked at the Nun.

  “Later, boy. We’ll have a talk, you two, Danton and I. Until then, both of ya keep yer gobs shut aboot it.” She stared intensely at the both of us, until we nodded in silent agreement. “Now, make yourselves useful. Mister Aguirre did a terrific job with the disinfectant, and the salicylic brew will dae wonders here. But if I am tae open up Baba’s wrist without nicking an artery and killing him, I need something muckle sharper and more precise than the knives your Japanese lad made.”

  “Like what?” Gordo asked, “I'm pretty sure Keito is both the best, and the only blacksmith around, and he already did his best with what we had available.”

  She scratched her chin, deep in thought.

  “Best scalpel and lancet blades are actually made o’ obsidian. the kind of black, glossy flint from Mexico.”

  Gordo nodded. “I know what that is, but there’s no obsidian around. We have plenty of flint, but none of it breaks sharp enough. If it can be done at all, it is beyond our skills.”

  “What aboot glass?” she asked. “I once gave a cesarean tae a lass in Rhwanda, with a sharp shard o’ shattered vodka bottle. ” Seeing our mortified expressions, she hastily added, “Dinnae worry, the wee one and the mother survived just braw.”

  “We don’t…no wait we do have glass!” I shot up. “Gordo, come on!”

  I pulled him bodily towards our forge, which was no mean feat since he outweighed me at least by half. The forge had grown and mutated since Keito took charge of it, and Gordo added his improvements. Now it looked less like a small clay barrel, and more like a miniature of Sauron’s tower, big, ominous, overgrown with extra shafts and tunnels, blackened with soot and molten slag.

  It was that slag that I started combing through.

  “Before you all got here, I did a lot of trial and error, trying to smelt iron,” I reminded him. “As you know, I was barely successful with that, but made a lot of glass cinders from overheating the dirty, sand-filled ore, and from the walls themselves melting. Here,” I dug out a shapeless black lump the size of a potato, “This might not be obsidian, but it's the next best thing we have.”

  Gordo examined the lump. “Looks glassy enough for me. Let's crack it and see if we can make sharp enough shards.”

  “Knapping,” I said. “supposedly that is what it is called. And I don't know about you, but I have no idea how to knap glass to make a blade.”

  Gordo sneezed a laugh. “All these months and you still fail to understand the potential you have. We have our…. special holes which make this problem trivial. We can just make as many glass lumps as we want, and keep smashing them with a hammer until something decently sharp comes out by sheer chance. Sufficient quantity, selection, and iteration leads to quality.”

  I winced. “Please do not call these things our special holes, it sounds.. dirty, the way you say it.”

  “What can I say Jack, Im in love with those things. Genuine magic.” He had a dreamy look on his face. “Let's make some glass blades!”

  I followed him. We closed the tarp curtains around the Duplicators, in case of any spying eyes. Also, because we did not want to litter the whole yard with extremely sharp shards of homemade glass.

  Of course, we did litter the whole yard with extremely sharp shards of homemade glass. Unsurprisingly, when you smash a lump of brittle glass with a hammer, the sharp specks fly everywhere. When you pour the shards into a Duplicator, they tend to fly out at speeds that easily embed them in careless people.

  “You know,” Gordo said, tending to the countless tiny cuts he received, and carefully sieving through a pile of absurdly sharp flakes, “this would make for a pretty deadly weapon, if we figured out how to shoot those at something. Some of those shards went through triple layers of spider silk, and this thing stops a spear stab completely.”

  “You truly are a Mad Scientist, Miguel,” I shook my head in disbelief. “Let's first focus on the means of saving lives, not taking them.”

  Even though I dismissed him, I could not shake a feeling that his insistence on making deadly weapons was completely justified.

  We delivered the best shards to Mary Brigitte, who examined them critically and chose a few for her grisly work. Even though I did my fair share of field surgery in this world, I did not have the stomach for it.

  Luckily, she did not need us to help her with the surgery itself.

  Unluckily, she needed us to help hold Baba still, when he unexpectedly woke up in the middle of the process, roared in agony, and nearly slugged her in the face. I tried to hold his arm down, but had as much of a chance of success as if I was trying to arm-wrestle against a forklift. Only when Gordo literally sat on Baba’s bicep, did we manage to push his arm down, and allow the Nun to cut out the blackened flesh out of the bite wound, and sew the approximately right bits of tissue to each other.

  “Quit strugglin’ you bellicose oaf!‘ The Nun chastised Baba, as he was slowly coming to his senses, “I'm trying tae save your darned paw!”

  He visibly deflated, his incredible vim depleted. He was barely lucid, but managed to crack a smile.

  “Thank you, Mary Brigitte.”

  “Nae bother, Mister Baba. We desperately need you alive. And ambidextrous enough tae punch sense in some o’ your lads. Sae hold still,” she said, expertly tying the last stitch that held Baba’s mangled wrist together. “There. Good as new.”

  “How are you feeling?‘ I asked, gently putting a silk pillow under his injured arm.

  He tried to waggle his fingers and winced. “Feeling like am no dey able to play no violin anytime soon. An I always wanted to learn.”

  “Glad you’re alive.”

  And I was, truly and deeply.

  I had a dark suspicion that without Baba, the situation would spiral out of control. Not to mention, for all his patronizing ways, he was one of the few truly good men I ever met.

  “Of course, I survived. Cannot die yet! I told you, I need to teach you proper spear-fishing. Your technique is still atrocious. And I still hope to bring you to the Faith of the Prophet. Can’t let you wallow in your silly atheism!” He paused. “Not after the dream I had.”