Page 24 of A Light in the Dark
I enjoyed my life, even with its ups and downs. “We’re an endangered species now?”
“Compared to the other races? We are.”
“While I know there are other races out there, I don’t know of them. Do you?”
“I do. I haven’t met any of them, but I might need to during emergencies. For the most part, Mr. Stephans and his son are the ones who interact with the other races. Our tech level has not yet engaged with the rest of the universe. That’s a tech level above us. If they do increase our tech level, though, we’ll be in for a lot of changes.”
“Our planet would become open for visitation from other races.”
“That’s correct. We’d be a limited visitation planet,though. There’d be a lottery for who gets to come visit, and there’d be strict rules on what tourists can and can’t do. But it could be a boon for the planet itself. Preservation planets of that level are exceptionally rare. There are only five of them in the universe, and we’d become number six. But they enjoy a great deal of protections. There would be a twenty year program to adapt everyone to it, get vaccinations done, and so on, though. I don’t see a vote going through on upgrading our status for at least ten years.”
“Why are you telling me this, Roger?”
“Mr. Stephans thinks you need to know, as it could relate to the killings in Stonecreek.”
That made a sickening amount of sense. “I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all we could ever ask of you. Thank you for helping us. We appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
TEN
Long before moving to Stonecreek, I had seen a unicorn.
Not too long after dark,a green glow outside my kitchen window caught my attention, and I spotted the luna moth gliding down from the rooftops. Amused the shifter had come to check on me, I went to the door and opened it. “Come on in.”
He did, and he landed on my counter.
After closing the door, I dug a mango out of my refrigerator, cut it up, and kept half for myself and gave the rest to my guest. Once he had his meal, I nibbled on my treat and enjoyed the view.
While I liked butterflies and moths in equal measure, luna moths topped the chart for beauty. “Thank you for helping Gabriella and escorting her with the Hunters. I was worried about her.”
I worried for all the refugees, but I kept my concerns to myself. I already did what I could, and burdening the luna moth wouldn’t help anybody, including me. To amusemyself, I went to work cleaning my kitchen, attacking the neglected corners, giving my sink a scrub, and otherwise taking out my frustrations on inanimate objects. Once my luna moth guest had finished eating, I claimed the dish, thanked him for coming, and worked my hand underneath him, marveling at his size. I questioned how a human could go from over a hundred pounds to weighing maybe two or three ounces, but rather than ask, I opened my back door, thanked him again, and tossed him into the air so he could go back to his home.
He took flight, but rather than give me a clue on where he’d come from, he landed on my neighbor’s roof and settled in, fluttering his wings.
Tricky shapeshifter. Smiling over his subterfuge, I closed the door, turned off the kitchen light, and went into my living room to grab my book and settle into my bay window nook overlooking the street. As was typical not long after the floods, the streets remained dark, quiet, and devoid of life. They would remain dark for a few more weeks, as it took time for the city to repair the streetlamps.
In the deceptive peace of the evening, I could almost fool myself into believing there wasn’t anything wrong in my mountainous home. If I could ignore the high number of bodies the Hunters had recovered, if I could ignore the possibilities that those in charge of the city-state had opted to profit on refugees, I might have been able to just claim the dangling bits of happiness within my reach.
But I couldn’t.
I struggled to maintain my attention on my book, regretting having selected a survival story for my entertainment.
After experiencing the real deal, I struggled to suspenddisbelief over the little things. I remembered, a little too well, the pressure on my wrist from the holds, the aches and pains I’d earned hauling Gabriella out of the water, and the bruising. Those had healed during the recovery time following the floods. The memories remained, memories I almost wished I could purge.
However, I refused to forget, and I doubted I could forgive those who would throw away human lives for profit.
The sort of resolve that had driven me to move to Stonecreek in the first place sprouted, and if it continued to grow at the rate it did, I would not be giving up until every last miserable fiend responsible rotted. Their graves, however, would be marked, their shame would be known, and every breath they took until their last would be burdened with the weight of guilt.
No one could raise the dead, but I would dance on the line separating justice and vengeance with the sort of fervor fanatics would envy.
The problem would be figuring out the how. How could I, just some simple paper pusher, accomplish that much? The Hunters would help—or I would help them. That would be one step towards my goal. Teaming up with the luna moth, despite our inability to communicate directly, would aid my cause. Keeping my eyes open and my wits sharp might win me insight on the filth polluting my home.
Rather than leave, I would become a force of change as strong as the yearly floods plaguing us. And, rather than believe in the necessity of the floods, I would do a little more digging to learn if there was more to Stonecreek than met the eye.
Once upon a time, I had been willing to believe everything I had been told.
