Chapter 7
It was two full days before they faced Krupkie again. Their imprisonment was the easiest imprisonment Tenet ever heard of. The guards were very friendly, the food was plentiful and delicious, and they were offered many entertainments to pass the time. If it weren't for the bolted-down furniture and four locks on the thick metal door, it would have felt like a vacation.
"I've never had one so I wouldn't know," Scarab said when he mentioned as much.
"Never had what?"
"A vacation." She was playing a solo game with a deck of cards and he was supposed to be reading a History of the United Borderlands, a book one of the guards thought they might enjoy.
Tenet put the book down. He was initially surprised, but then realized her life wasn't the kind that would offer any respite from difficulties. "Well," he said, clearing his throat at the pain of the unfairness of life that had given him so much and her so little. "They are actually just like this. Without locks, I mean."
She gave a little snort and let the subject drop. He had that guilty look again, and she hated that. Her life wasn't his fault. While she didn't blame him, she couldn't help but feel a little incredulous when he looked so surprised about her lack of luxuries. They didn't speak of vacations again. They spent the time with Tenet reading tidbits from the history book out loud and Scarab pretending to listen. She knew most of the general history, even if she'd forgotten details. He didn't realize it was making her uncomfortable to remember, and she didn't tell him. If they were going to live here, she'd have to remember. She'd have no choice. She would remember it all, the impersonal facts of the country along with her too personal memories of her family and daily life.
"Don't you ever stop with the lectures?" she snapped at him once when he was deep in a discussion mostly with himself on the subject of the small woodland farm communities, very much like the one she was raised in.
Instead of taking offense, Tenet seemed to really think over the question. "I suppose if I stayed, I probably would have been a teacher at the academy. I just like it."
"Well I don't remember signing up for a class."
He sighed. "My, we're testy. Fine. It's completely your choice if you want to be ignorant of the way things work up here."
He was annoyingly right, and she grit her teeth and told him to continue. No matter what else it brought up inside, they were ill prepared and had to take advantage of the unexpected opportunity to learn about the life they would hopefully lead. She listened and filed away facts, hoping that by doing that, the painful memories and comparisons could be pushed aside once again.
When a guard unexpectedly told them they would be visiting Krupkie, she was actually glad for the distraction. At least in Krupkie's office the constant battle to keep her past at bay would take a back seat.
They were ushered into Krupkie's office immediately upon their arrival. "Close the door, Potter," she told the secretary gruffly. "Sit," she commanded Tenet and Scarab. They sat quickly and she introduced another officer. "This is Commander Haften." She did not give any time for further introduction or waste a second on extending a welcome. "We have reviewed the reports of your possessions. All of the seed is clean and approved for import."
Tenet felt a surge of hope, while Scarab clenched her fist. There would be more. This alone was not enough to give them the clear.
"Your medicals have also turned up clear." They'd both had a physical with the command center's medic. "No contagion, infection, or unacceptable abnormalities. You are young and fit and strong, and your knowledge of medicines would make you an excellent addition to one of the northern-midland communities."
Tenet almost gave a hoot.
"However, I cannot ignore the unusual circumstances of either your person or your situation."
It was as if ice water was dumped over Tenet's head.
Krupkie watched the cold steadiness of the woman, almost comical in contrast to the clear play of up and down emotions on the man. Half of her wanted to keep them close to see what would happen. What she'd been able to learn about them over the past two days intrigued her. Haften and the others on the immigration board had their reservations. The son of one of the most influential citizens of Southland was an incredible bargaining chip. For his life, they could demand the very moon and it would be paid. That was the boards' reasoning.
Not Krupkie's. There was a death bounty on the kid. They wouldn't pay a single credit for his return. She knew how that government worked. Life was not precious to them, in spite of what their bullshit national religion taught. It never ceased to astound her how quickly the same people who would rather die than eat an animal would order the death of someone who wronged them. Secretly, of course. Quietly, of course. Without mess or knowledge, of course. The people never suspected. Sheep, the whole lot.
And a hunter. Though nothing concrete was known about this woman who went by her hunting name and code, Krupkie would have bet that she was one of the child outcasts from the Borderlands. There were too many who suffered that horrible practice, with children taking the punishment for the parents, that it was impossible to comb through the files and pinpoint which family. Not that it mattered to Krupkie. She did not share the board's opinion that the rot would pass from father to child, that whatever her father or mother did to get the family banished would be carried out again by the girl. A careful investigation of the publicly accepted bounties showed that hunter Scarab only took in live bounties, usually outlaws to be handed over to the authorities for justice. Clearly she accepted the job offered by the Bradwin family, even though officially on the records that bounty went unassigned. She wasn't worried about the hunter. If she was rotten like the board thought, she would have killed the kid for what was no doubt an obscene amount of money. She didn't. She chose the hard but morally correct path. Krupkie respected her for it.
Krupkie spent all of the previous day trying to convince the board of the boon the entire country had by keeping this couple within their borders and safe.
"Think of what he knows."
"Ah, but will he tell? He's already lied."
"Of course he's lied. They're running for their lives! If your father placed a death bounty on your head, wouldn't you lie and run away, too?"
The board could not argue that. "But she's a hunter. A hunter! They kill. They have to. What if she gets it in her head to start pushing people around?"
"She put her very life on the line to save a stranger. Isn't that what we're supposed to hail as a hero? And you condemn her for it. You sound as bad as the southies!"
The board had to concede through embarrassment. They did sound as bad as the southies.
"Think what this could mean for us. He knows southern medicine. He knows southern farming practices. I don't think he knows how they really make their money, but he can give us what we've wanted for years: insider information." Her arguments slowly won people over, one by one. "He knows what they teach in the academies. He knows how their confusing caste system actually works. He knows the names and locations and daily habits of all the top gentry." Nods, reluctant murmurs of agreement. "And if that's not enough, just think of what it will do for our people who are struggling and thinking of leaving. We've seen how many we're losing to their propaganda. The son of their Exalted Leader. Not there. Here." She drove her finger down on the table to emphasize her point. "He chose this place and this life in this land. You can't have a better anti-propaganda statement than that!"
That was the argument that won the hold outs over. There were still concerns and serious reservations, though, the biggest immediate concern being the bounty hunter that chased them across the border. Though Cap and his troop got close enough to drive the hunter back, the board felt that he'd probably try again. Or another would, anyway. "You can't defy their government and expect them just to give up. We know that one first hand." It was Commander Haften's argument, and it was a good one. Above all else, Major Krupkie's main objective was the safety of the citizens of the U
nited Borderlands.
Krupkie stared at the two captives. It was clear the woman knew they were caught, while the boy still wasn't sure. It was time for the major to give them the opportunity to alleviate the last of the board's concerns as well as her own. She turned to the female hunter. "Who tracked you?"
Scarab knew the only recourse at this point was to answer honestly. She was certain they knew the real story behind their border crossing. Cap had been right with his warnings and she underestimated the major. However, they were still here. They hadn't instantly been kicked out. The Commander next to the major was old, fat and soft. He clearly wasn't there as a show of muscle or force. He looked like a business man, not a soldier. She knew Tenet had it figured out. He felt him sag in defeat. But all the signs began to add up to a better picture in her head. "A hunter named Jace."
"He's not on the official records."
Scarab shrugged. "Officially he died two years ago."
Tenet's heart began to race. "What are you talking about, Angel?"
"Cut the crap, Mr. Bradwin."
"It's fine," Scarab said simultaneously. "It's fine," she said again, giving Tenet a confident look. Tenet swallowed hard and clamped his mouth shut, hoping she knew what she was doing. "He's an assassin for the govers now," she continued, looking back to Krupkie.
Commander Haften made a little moan and rolled his eyes. "I told you! We can't have an..."
"Can it, Ralph," Major Krupkie barked. He may be in control in the board room, but she was the one who ruled her office.
"But an assassin!" he stupidly continued.
"I said hush!" Krupkie held her gaze on the large, useless man until he finally shut his mouth. She turned back to Scarab. "Tell me, Hunter Scarab, just how it is that you escaped assassination?"
"I'm good at my job." Scarab saw both respect and high amusement in flash in Krupkie's eyes for a fleeting moment before her look turned serious.
"I am charged with the health and well being of the citizens of Carlton, those under my command in the field, and the very populace of the United Borderlands themselves. And you have lead an assassin to my doorstep." Scarab couldn't argue that and simply waited out the silence. "Will he continue to pursue?"
"I doubt it," Scarab answered honestly. "Above all else, he is lazy. He will most likely file a report that we were killed and dumped into a river."
"The government will require proof."
Scarab nodded. "He'll have proof. My guess is that he's recovered our tracking chips from the outpost where we got reassigned."
Tenet gasped and looked at Scarab. He hadn't thought about that. He was worried that the government would give Weevil a hard time, not that an assassin would end up on his doorstep.
Scarab didn't want to look at Tenet. She couldn't reassure him, not now. But as soon as she knew it was Jace after them, she was certain he had done anything he had to to find them. She hoped Weevil and the others were fine. Honestly, it was a coin toss.
"That's not proof of death. Won't they be tracking him up across our border? How can he explain that?"
"He's an assassin. He doesn't work under the same rules as a hunter. There's no league, no license, no pay transfer, at least not officially. Every job he takes is secret and the revelation of his methods is up to his discretion. It's high Summer. He won't be expected to risk filing a report digitally, or raise alarm by hiring a late season transport."
"So no one's watching him?" Krupkie asked.
"No, most likely not."
"Hm." Krupkie sat back in her chair and thought over the new information. In the hunter's shoes, she'd fake the death, too. It would get him the payment, the government would be happy. There was very little chance the boy would ever show his face across the border again, or even near it. With an intelligent hunter by his side, they'd move deep inland, far away from those who wanted him dead. Anyone with half a brain would know that tracking them inland would be nearly impossible. She glanced to a scowling Haften, but determined that anything he would add would be unhelpful. She turned her gaze to Tenet. "What have you done to bring the hatred of an entire government?"
Tenet cleared his throat. He had no idea how to answer that. "It's...uh...not the entire government. Just one."
"The head one," Krupkie supplied.
"Yes."
"Which for all intents and purposes in your ridiculous system can be considered the entire government." Tenet gave a nod of concession. "What was the matter, then? What do you know that has him so scared?"
Tenet snorted. "He's not afraid of me. He simply does not want me to ruin the family name, our history."
Krupkie felt bad for the young man if he actually believed that. "Kid, I've been doing this a long time. And if there's one thing I know for sure is that no one puts this much effort into killing someone else unless they're driven by a deep fear."
It was a good point, one Scarab hadn't really considered. Tenet turned pale and she knew he hadn't, either. If he did know something, he was unaware of it. That made their situation all the more dangerous, and Scarab frowned deeply.
"He's a mean bastard," Tenet offered, struggling to accept what he was hearing. "Isn't that enough reason?"
"No. Not usually."
Commander Haften cleared his throat and shot Krupkie a look. If Haften didn't know her better, he'd think she had a soft spot for the boy. They were getting wildly off topic and it was time to get things back on track.
Krupkie sighed heavily. "Getting back to my point. I won't lie. Having the son of the leader escape to our country is an enormous bargaining chip."
"I will not let you trade him back," Scarab said simply.
Krupkie looked at her for a long moment. "I do not believe you know how lucky you got in your father's choice of hunters, boy," she said to Tenet, still staring at Scarab. There were very few people Krupkie ever met in her life that could give her a real run for her money on the battlefield. She was certain that this hunter was at the top of the list. "I do not plan on trading him back. What value could we possibly gain by his death?"
Scarab didn't bother to hide her sneer. "So you plan on using him."
Krupkie gave a shrug. "No more than he's using us. He knows things. He knows people. He knows names and faces and insider information we could never dream of obtaining."
"You want me to...to....sell them out?" He scoffed. "The people I was raised with, my friends, my family..."
"Some family," snorted Haften.
Krupkie sighed and shot Haften another glare. He was not helping. "I am prepared to offer you a life, son," said, turning back to Tenet. "I will offer you and your wife sanctuary here in my country at great personal risk. All I ask in return is for you to aid your new country with a little information."
It didn't set right with Tenet and he felt sick. "What...what's going to happen to them?"
Krupkie looked surprised. "Happen?"
"I doubt you want inside information to invite them over for a tea party."
Krupkie blinked for a second, then surprised everyone in the room by barking a laugh. "I cannot believe you are standing up to defend people who'd have you killed. Who'd pay to have you killed."
Tenet felt his face turn red. She had a point, but only so far as his father went. And Jace. But that was it. No one else had a hand in any of this. If he was going to trade his life for anyone's head on a platter, it was going to be the only one responsible. "I will tell you everything you want to know about my father. That's it."
Krupkie's humor faded. "Do you really think you are in a position to bargain?"
Scarab was surprised herself and turned to look at Tenet. What was he playing at? She wanted to slap a hand over his mouth, thank the kind lady, and get the hell out of there before he blew it all.
"I'm not bargaining," he said firmly. "I'm telling you what I am willing to do for this new life you've offered."
"I could kill you," Krupkie said coldly.
"She's well within her rights," confirmed the
unhelpful Haften.
Tenet swallowed, but stuck to his guns. "I've caused enough pain and trouble to enough people already. I won't give you information on innocent people who thought they had my confidence. My father wants me dead. He's a bad man, plain and simple. You can't be a good person and order the death of your only son who's done nothing wrong in life. I've done nothing right, either," he was quick to admit. "But I certainly haven't done anything that would be reason enough for my death." The only one in the room who doubted that at all was Haften, and no one counted him. "I will tell you whatever you want to know about my father. And then I will be a model citizen. I will practice medicine and build a home and be part of a community," he grabbed Scarab's hand, "with my wife at my side. And I will never, ever do anything to make you regret your decision to let us stay."
Scarab gave his hand a slight squeeze, overcome with pride at just how far he'd come. It was foolish to try and bargain, and yet, she completely understood and respected his position. She turned to stare at Krupkie, to see if she could judge her reaction. Haften was sputtering, but Krupkie simply watched Tenet with a stoic expression. The seconds ticked on. Haften tried to say something, but Krupkie's hand stopped him.
"You have balls, I'll give you that," she said eventually. Scarab felt Tenet's hand relax the iron grip he held. "But I can't make that kind of promise." She held her finger up. "Hear me out. I swear to you this is the best deal you will find within any border on earth." Tenet gave a little nod for her to make her offer.
"I understand and respect what you are saying. You don't want to sell out anyone who may be innocent. I don't know what you believe we'd do with the information. Our government has absolutely no interest in your lands, your people, or how you operate. I said my one and only concern is my people, and I meant that. Your neighbors could all be murdering, thieving bastards for all we care and we wouldn't lift one damn finger to intercede. That's not what we're after. My concern is my people. Specifically, stopping illegal trading of addictive drugs crossing my border." She pinched her forefinger and thumb close together. "We are this close to stopping the problem. This. Close. But we can't pinpoint the sources."
"I can't help with that," Tenet insisted. "I don't know anything about illegal drugs. We grow corn and wheat. The gover agros are the only ones licensed for medicinal drug growing."
"The only ones licensed, maybe, but not the only ones actually growing. Tell me, son. Would you put it past your father to make a few quick bucks by selling us barbarians up here some cocaine?"
"Cocaine's not legal," he mumbled his mind reeling with what she was saying.
"Would you put it past him?" she persisted.
He ran a hand through his hair and let out a laugh at the absurdity. "Until a month or so ago I didn't even know people lived up here!"
Krupkie sighed again. "Now you know. So, would you put it past your father?"
No. No he wouldn't. The thought made him sick and he swallowed the bile rising. As soon as he thought he knew the worst about his father, he found out another piece of the puzzle that painted an even more horrible picture. "No, I wouldn't put it past him."
"How about his friends?"
Tenet shook his head slowly. "They're nice people."
"Nice? Kid, we're getting whole crops of highly addictive illegal drugs hooking our people and killing them. Whole crops that have to be coming from multiple sources."
Tenet put his hand in the air. "I swear to you I know nothing about that."
"I know. But I guarantee those in your father's circle do."
Tenet considered her words carefully, but decided he could not budge. He had to take a stand somewhere, and he'd already made a mess of enough peoples' lives. He wouldn't give her inside information that might ruin more on nothing more than a whim. "I'll give you anything on my father, but I will not guess with other peoples' lives."
Krupkie quirked an eyebrow. "Even if it means keeping thousands safe?"
"I will not guess!" Tenet slammed his hand on Krupkie's desk, his emotions taking over. Everyone went still in the room, and Tenet instantly regretted the action. Scarab held her breath wondering where in the hell that Tenet came from and what Krupkie was going to do about it. Even Haften had the sense to be stunned silent.
"I...I'm sorry," Tenet said. "I can't guess, okay? I honestly know nothing that will help you on that front and I won't hand over potentially innocent people to face consequences they might not deserve. I'm sorry that they're selling drugs up here. It makes me sick to think about it. But I have to be able to live with myself. Whatever else these people are, they were my friends. They were my neighbors. They were kinder to me than my own family and..." his words were choked off an he had to pause to get his emotions back in check. He cleared his throat. "I can't do that to them."
Krupkie was stunned that the boy had it in him to be so forceful, and even more stunned that after his outburst, he didn't retract. She respected that. Years of hard ruling had left a lot of "yes men" in her company. Even the board always capitulated in the end. Their frequent arguments against her ideas were simply for the sake of feeling important. She couldn't remember when the last time was that an idea of hers actually got shot down. Bluster for the sake of bluster, but no honest differences. Contrary to what they thought, she always appreciated a different opinion. Oh, she always went with her own ideas in the end, but that didn't mean she didn't like hearing an issue from all sides.
As the silence lengthened, Haften took on a smug look. He was sure this kid was about to get it with both barrels. He was both stunned and outraged when Krupkie once again surprised him with her response.
"You make a valid point," she said in a clipped tone. "I don't expect that I would turn in my family and friends unless I was absolutely certain about their guilt, either. I can respect that."
"He's a loose cannon," Haften hissed.
"Oh be quiet you old buzzard. Don't you have some books to go balance or some lunch to eat?" The man turned purple with rage but shut up. "I don't believe you are a loose cannon," she said to Tenet. "Perhaps you are the most sensible of any of us in the room. I agree to your terms." She stuck her hand out to shake.
Scarab held her own hand up. "Hold on a second. Before either of us agrees to anything, I want to know exactly what we're getting into."
Smart girl, Krupkie thought. "There is a settlement that is in desperate need for a medic. Though we do not fully adhere to the same healing practices you are familiar with, you should find elderly women more than willing to fill in the gaps in your education."
"Elderly women?"
"Of course. Aside from a healer, who else would know more about setting bones and healing the sick? If you think there's any way a Borderlands medic will trade secrets with an untested Southerner, you're sorely mistaken. If you plan to take the medic route, then you'd do well to be polite and hope the elderly women of the tribe take pity!" She said it in such a matter-of-fact tone that Tenet was embarrassed that he didn't figure that out for himself. "The town is called Nortaberg and it's in the northern Midland province."
"So as far away from this border as possible," Scarab said.
"Almost smack dab in the middle of the country, actually," Krupkie confirmed. "A transport to New Canada is too easy to attain, and I'm not going to make you someone else's problem. It's on this side of the central mountain range. Good farm land, if you care, but it does get cold so the growing season's short."
"Is it beef land?" Scarab asked.
She nodded. "Some. More sheep and goats."
"Goats? I've never seen a goat," Tenet said, feeling excited for the next leg of their adventure.
"See? Something to look forward to already." Krupkie picked up a folder that was on the desk in front of her. "Their medic died with no kin, leaving both an opening for a new medic and a house as an incentive for someone to take the job."
She held the file up and Scarab took it. "Nice incentive," she muttered.
"More than most.
"
The top page in the file was a flyer, an advertisement for the position. It was dated a year ago, and Scarab frowned. "Why hasn't anyone taken the position yet?"
"It's hard living there. Not a lot of money in the region, and no large population centers within easy travel."
Scarab felt there was more to the story than Krupkie was saying. Scarab studied the sheet in front of her, and thought about what Krupkie said. Old women did the doctoring, they weren't near a population center, and in the mountains... Something niggled at her memory. Put it together, her little voice urged. "Celtists," she said quietly, the image of her old grandmother chanting above her broken leg suddenly flashing through her mind.
"Very good," Krupkie said. The hunter just confirmed she was one of them, and Krupkie filed that information away for later.
"What are Celtists?" Tenet asked, turning to Scarab.
"It's an old religion unique to the central mountain ranges of the Borderlands," Krupkie explained. "Actually, it's not all that old. It was formed after the great asteroid strike. Certain people who had studied truly ancient religions of the Celtic people believed the asteroid was called down upon us to punish our pollution or some such nonsense."
"You don't believe in it, then?" Scarab asked.
Krupkie gave Scarab an odd look. "After the life you must have lead, do you?"
Scarab could say nothing. She hadn't been in the religion since she was a child. She never assessed the thoughts and reasons behind her mother's beliefs, because that life was gone to her, dead. As a girl, she certainly put faith in the powers of the earth the priestesses taught. What good had they done her? She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to think about any of it. She shut the folder and shoved it across the desk. "This can't be our only option."
"It sounds fine to me," said Tenet, wondering why Scarab was suddenly so upset.
She scoffed. "What's your religion, Tenet?"
"Enlightened Humanism," he answered easily.
"Exactly," Scarab said, as if that cleared anything up. "I'd be hard pressed to think of a more different culture for you to dive into. We have to blend and be part of it, not stick out like a sore thumb."
Krupkie was intrigued. The thought of being around Celtists had this woman, this hardened hunter, scared. "If that's your criteria, then you chose the wrong nation. You will not find a community willing to embrace Enlightened Humanism here."
Scarab sighed. "I know. But there's got to be something a little less different than a Celtist community."
"It's a job and a house, something you thought we wouldn't have the first year," Tenet argued. "I can learn a new way."
She scoffed at him. "Really? Okay. Did you know that the acceptable cure for a broken limb in a Celtist community involves the slaughter of a chicken? Are you aware that they make a sacrifice to their gods and bleed the animal out over the injury, then burn the animal to ashes? They waste it, Tenet. Can you sit back and watch the senseless waste of an animal like that?"
The thought was horrifying to him for a second. Chicken blood? "That's..." But he didn't know what it was. "Why do they do that?"
"They let the chicken bleed over the broken bone and pray for the life force of one creature to flow into and heal the other."
It was hardly scientific. Tenet doubted it actually cured any broken bones at all. Still, there was something poetic about it. Hopeful. Wrong, but sweetly innocent in the thinking. He wondered what it felt like to have to take the life of a chicken in a desperate hope to save the life of a person. Then he wondered what it felt like to be the one on the other end, in pain, scared with chicken blood running over them. With life force running over them, he corrected himself. What he saw as blood, they would see as hope. What he saw as disgusting, they saw as medicine. What a gift it must feel like, to know that a life was given to save yours.
"I once went on a call with my mother," he said after he thought it over. "A child was sick with infection and the clinic refused them. I had no choice but to watch helplessly as that little baby died slow and painful over three days."
"Tenet, that's hardly the same," Scarab began.
"Do you know what we did for her? Nothing. Because we didn't believe anything would help. The mother, she did nothing, because she didn't believe anything would help. Science told us the only thing that would assist the girl was a medicine we were not allowed to carry."
Scarab sighed. "I don't see what one has to do with another. Chicken blood does not heal bones."
"No. But it offers comfort to those who think it does. We did nothing because we didn't believe in anything. Chicken blood does not heal wounds. You're right. That's a fact. But, at least if the girl believed we were helping, or her mother did, at least maybe then we could have given them comfort. It's not just blood and chants, it's the idea that faith will come in and save them at the last minute."
"But it doesn't," Scarab insisted.
"Don't you get it? That doesn't matter. Whether the medicine works or not, it's the hope that's the healer. My religion teaches that you do what you know to help, and that the rest is out of your hands. There is no hope, because miracles do not happen. If you get an infection so deep that it needs a contali extract to cure it, then unless you have contali extract, you're screwed. Left for dead. Forgotten. At least the Celtists try. At least with them there's room for belief or hope. That little girl was one of many I watched die, despondent, hopeless, in abject misery of body and soul. And we did nothing to make her passing any easier because that damned book the minister insisted we follow did not grant us that right." Real pain at the memory was in his voice by the time he finished, and he swallowed hard.
Haften sniffed loudly in the silence that followed. "Well said, boy."
It was one thing to say it, it was another to live by it, and Scarab knew that firsthand. Celtists were difficult to outsiders at best. They were wary and closed. It would be nearly impossible to become part of the community without converting, and she knew if push came to shove, Tenet just couldn't convert. She wouldn't go back to living it, either. "Tenet, it's not as glorious as you seem to think. It's not all noble. In many ways, they're so closed that they cause deaths."
"They are the ones that posted for a trained medic," Krupkie supplied. "Perhaps the knowledge of science is a little better prospect than suffering another unnecessary epidemic."
Scarab glared at Krupkie. She was not helping.
Tenet took Scarab's hand and squeezed it. "I'm not completely naive, you know. I'm sure there will be many times I shake my head and wonder how in the hell they can think this or that. Come on. Chicken blood? Seriously? But I can respect their ways." He gave a laugh. "A house and a job. How can I not?"
"And what would I do, hm? At least in a city my skills would be..."
"Noticed," Krupkie said, interrupting. "Your skills would be noticed. It would get you both noticed."
"So tuck us away in some backwoods hillbilly town with goats and sheep and Celtists." She couldn't help the bitterness in her voice.
"I'm glad you grasp the plan." Krupkie slid the file over to Tenet. "I promise, this is the best you're going to get."
Scarab pulled her hand from Tenet and crossed her arms over her chest. She did not want to be in the mountains again. She did not want to be in a Celtist community again. She was returning to a life she buried, only without the people that should be there with her. And there didn't seem to be a damn thing she could do about it.
Krupkie was about to assure this girl that things were different, now, that the government that treated her so poorly was long gone, that if she tried, she'd find friends in her homeland once again. But Krupkie knew how the tough hunter Scarab would receive that advice, and she held her tongue. She'd see them again. Maybe by then the bitterness and pain in the girl's eyes would be lessened. She hoped so, for the boy's sake if nothing else.
"So one more time, this is my offer. You'll move up there immediately. I believe Kratz is from that general
area. I'll have him help you sell your seeds and get what you'll need for the winter. You won't have time to plant a crop, so I suggest you hope the house is in fairly livable condition and spend as much as you can on food stores and a horse."
Tenet's eyebrow shot up. "A horse?"
Scarab forgot to tell him that part. "Yes. Most people use horses for work and riding."
His eyes went wide with outrage. "You ride on them?"
His outraged tone amused Krupkie. Oh, to be a fly on the wall in their house for the first winter! "You have a lot to learn," she pointed out. "I suggest you get as much information out of Kratz on the way up as you can. In return, I'll spend my winter with my intelligence agents and we'll decide how you can help us. If you make it through the winter, we'll meet in spring. Now, last time...is it a deal?"
Tenet shook her hand, and Scarab reluctantly followed suit. What choice did they really have? It occurred to Scarab as they were being escorted back to the barracks to meet with Fratz that Krupkie never really spelled out Tenet's future responsibilities with the Borderlands government. It also occurred to her that there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it. A house and a job for Tenet. It really was more than they could have hoped for, in spite of her trepidation at the location and the people they'd be around. She tried to take a page out of Tenet's book and be hopeful. When that emotion didn't fit, she settled for being simply resigned and sat with Fratz to make plans she really hoped would see them through the winter. This was her new life. As reluctant as she was, she was determined to make it as good as she could.