Chain Unbroken Chapter 0 - Danash Is Dead (Patreon)

This is a potential prologue chapter for Final Days 3. Not one hundred percent sure it will fit by the end but it seems to work on its own at the very least. Comments appreciated!

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TWENTY YEARS AGO

“You can’t be serious,” Captain Ateri said, staring Security Chief A’hee dead in the eyes. The hearing was so far not going terribly well, but it should have been more sensible than the suggestions that were passing by his ears.

“I’m not saying the cub did it,” A’hee said, the fiery red geroo turning his attention to Judge Jukaasme. “But we do need to look at the circumstances here and keep the possibility open. He clearly knows more than he’s letting on.”

“He’s eight!” Ateri protested. “He ran because his father just died and he’s terrified of the finger being pointed at him.”

“The father that he hated,” A’hee added.

“I hated him too,” Ateri said. “That doesn’t mean anything. Gert’s simply not capable of that level of contempt.”

“Then I would like this court to establish that,” Jukaasme stated flatly, speaking loudly in order to overtake the two bickering adults. “So far the only thing we’ve established is that Danash has died of a severe painkiller overdose, and the only witness we even have is Gert. Now, Ateri, I don’t doubt your word on this, but I’ve never met the boy personally. I understand that he’s the son of our late First Officer Sur’an?”

Ateri paused, having to swallow a lump from his throat before continuing. “…yes, ma’am.”

“So it’s possible your reading of the cub’s behavior is, perhaps, partial to him?”

“He is Sur’an’s son,” Ateri said. “And I mean that in all the best ways.”

“In other words, yes,” A’hee scoffed. “Look, I miss Sur’an too. We all do. But this obsession of yours over her material remnants is coloring your judgment.”

The judge leaned in on her elbows. “And I don’t appreciate your gung-ho attitude about accusing a cub of murder.” 

“It is known to happen!” A’hee stated. “I’m not saying if he is capable of such a thing we should throw the book at him. Three months, tops.”

“Three months!” Ateri exclaimed. “That’s still three months. The boy just lost his father and you want to put the fear of mortality into him.”

“Probationary! Besides, I doubt he’s even sad about losing that bastard!”

“Close your mouths!” The judge snapped, then buried her head in her paws. “Ancestors, this is why I try not to oversee officer cases. Most geroo know full well to be nervous about approaching the bench, dammit. Including the cub. A’hee, no more talk of murder accusations unless we have something concrete to base it on.”

“The disappearance of Danash’s necklace…”

“We haven’t established what that means, if anything,” the judge stated. “And Ateri… listen, the boy likes you, you’re more likely to find him than security is. But I want the truth from his mouth. If you find him and it sounds like you coached him, I’m going to reopen up some of those scars that Sarsuk gave you.”

“I’m not bringing him back until he wants to come back out of his own free will,” Ateri said. “It’s possible that he would rather not speak about it at all.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” A’hee said. “Because I can make a case against the boy. He needs to learn to defend himself rather than relying on strangers to do it for him.”

“I reiterate, he’s eight years old.”

“Just get out of my court,” Jukaasme groaned. “We’ll resume again at ten hundred tomorrow and Gert had better be willing to approach the bench by that time.”

***

It didn’t take Ateri very long to find Gert. There were a few places that the cub often ran to when he was feeling upset, and after checking some of his frequent visitations, Ateri opened the door to his office to find it entirely empty, save for the curious detail of a thick woven blanket laying atop his desk. Quietly closing the door behind him, he walked carefully on heels to toes as he slipped around the front of his desk and pulled away the chair. Underneath, an eight-year-old Gert sat curled up with his knees to his chest, shaking. He’d built himself a little fort underneath the desk, with pillows and blankets taken from who knew where, and a little box lunch that sat untouched.

Gert did not react, nor did Ateri reach for him. Instead, he sat down in the chair and folded his paws together. “You planning on staying here?”

When the cub finally spoke, he said, “…are you going to take me back to the security office?”

“No,” Ateri said. “I just want to talk. You build blanket forts often?”

Gert just nodded.

“Did you need me to get you anything? It didn’t look like you brought anything to drink.”

“I’m fine,” Gert said. “I just kinda want to lay down and go to sleep.”

It was barely even noon, but Ateri nodded in response—he knew full well that sort of reaction. He got up and turned on a desk lamp before shutting off the office lights, then he returned. 

“That better?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Gert scooted, even though he was already pinned into the corner. Ateri kicked off his boots, then ducked down underneath the desk. He pulled Gert close to his side and held onto him tightly, and Gert leaned into the captain. Ateri reached up and pulled the blanket down over the entryway, leaving them both shrouded with just the barest hint of lamp light.

Ateri had to work to get comfortable though, as he was a rather large geroo, he was not exactly built for hiding under desks anymore. Still, with some turning and strategic shuffling of the pillows, he managed to lay down with his paws sticking out from the blanket doorway, and Gert ended up laying on top of his chest, clutching a stuffed toy of a cahuan. When Ateri breathed, he breathed deeply, and Gert’s ears perked in a small smile as he rose up at down with the captain’s lungfuls of air.

For a long while they just laid there, eyes half-closed, listening to the empty roar of the ship around them. But it was clear, after a long moment had passed, that despite his insistence, Gert simply could not close his eyes or sleep.

“I’m not very brave,” Gert said. “Or strong.”

“I think you’ll grow into both of those things,” Ateri said.

“I dunno,” Gert whimpered. “When I think about growing up, everyone always says you’re gonna turn out like your parents no matter how hard you try not to. But I don’t want to be like my dad. I want to be like you.”

“And who am I to you?” Ateri asked.

“Amazing and brave. You don’t take any shit from anyone.”

Ateri chuckled, sending the cub bouncing. Gert giggled, too.

“I wish it was that simple,” Ateri said. “Sometimes it seems like being captain means taking shit from everyone. I’ve just practiced hard to make it look like it doesn’t bother me.”

“Either way,” Gert said, “You’re like the best geroo I know. I just want to be you so badly.”

Ateri closed his one remaining eye and took a deep, rising breath. “Gert…” he said. “If it’s what you want, Gert, I will support you. But I’m not the best role model. But I do know that you want to see the best in everyone. So if you see me as brave, I know you can be brave. You’ve got you mother’s spirit in you.”

Gert’s ears fell back.

“Can you be brave for me, Gert?” Ateri asked. “We need to know what happened. I’m not going to be mad at you.”

“Yes you are,” Gert whimpered.

“No. Gert, speaking the truth is the bravest thing you can do. Even if it hurts someone.”

Still, Gert didn’t open up. He buried his face in his paws, and started shaking. Ateri pulled him close.

“Gert, come on,” the captain said. “No secrets between us.”

“I’m a really, really bad person…” Gert muttered.

This did concern Ateri. For a moment, he pondered the possibility that Gert had killed Danash. But even if he did, well… Ateri wouldn’t blame him. But it was going to be hard to defend the cub when he wouldn’t just say what was on his mind. Gert was silent for a long moment, staring at the inner lining of the desk. Ateri did not press him to make a confession, but waited as long as he had to.

A few minutes later, Gert tugged on his necklace. “Do you see the silver bead on the end here?”

Even in the dim light, it still sparkled with a clear sheen. Ateri slowly nodded.

“This is Mom’s bead.”

Ateri blinked. He sat back onto the pillow, a little alarmed. “You don’t have to explain if you—”

“I only got the necklace like a year ago,” Gert explained. “After Mom died, I still hadn’t put my necklace together and was very upset when my dad didn’t let me make a necklace like hers. She had eleven beads, after all, and only a broken messed up perverted male would have more than five on their necklace. So I put it off, and I put it off, until a geroo my age without a necklace was just awkward. So I finally decided on this, with the two silver beads on the ends. Dad didn’t like it anyway, but he finally compromised. Anyway, that night, I broke into the shrine and exchanged one of my silver beads for one of Mom’s.”

Ateri nodded. He didn’t want to sound accusatory to a young cub, so he just said with as much understanding as he could, “You know that’s not usually done.”

“I know,” Gert said. “I don’t know why I did it. I had nightmares that my dad would find out for weeks, but he didn’t.” Gert winced physically, very hard. “Until five days ago.”

Ateri waited for Gert to continue. It took several long moments.

“So… two days ago… once security released it… grandma brought my dad’s necklace to the shrine. And I was angry at it. Again. I was thinking about the silver bead on his necklace, that was my mom’s before he became her mate. I was going to steal that one and replace the other silver bead on this necklace with that one, because he didn’t deserve it. Well, that night, I did the first part of that. And then I felt seized by something in the shadows—holding onto his complete necklace terrified me, and then my grandma opened up the bedroom door, and I screamed. I tossed the necklace down the garbage chute.”

Ateri blinked. “That’s what you were doing in the recycler bay?”

“My grandma didn’t notice what I’d done. In the morning, I tried to fetch the necklace out of the chute, but it had already emptied, or at least I couldn’t reach it. So I went down to the recycler bay to look for the original. I was there all day. A lot of it was laying low and quiet while the bay workers passed by. I thought I’d found one of the beads for a moment, scratched up, but when I compared it to my father’s photograph it was the wrong shape, wrong shade of green. Couldn’t find a trace of it.” Gert swallowed. “I lost mom’s other silver bead. I think I’m going to hell.”

“Gert, no!” Ateri pulled the cub closer and squeezed the air out of him. “Gert, you are not going to any of the five hells. The necklace doesn’t matter. It’s just atoms. It can be replaced. Your mother understands and she still loves you.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m worried…” Gert cried. “I was doing it for her. The night dad… the night dad died… before I went to bed I prayed to her and asked her to kill dad. And then he died. Mom killed him and it’s my fault.”

Ateri blinked. “You didn’t… do anything else, did you?”

Gert shook his head. “I think he only noticed I switched the beads because he was looking at photographs of her. And the bead wasn’t quite the same polish. And he didn’t have any proof I’d switched beads, but I knew I did. He shook me a lot and tried to get me to confess, but I was scared. He kicked me and threatened to cut off my necklace and said they’d recycle me for desecrating the dead. That’s why I prayed. I thought Mom would understand what I did, and I didn’t mean to ask her to kill him, but I was so angry and upset…”

Gert burst into tears. Ateri held the cub close to his chest, just keeping the pressure around the boy, to let him know this was a safe place for him for as long as he needed.

“Gert…” Ateri said. “I know what it feels like, but I need to ask you, and it’s very important that you tell me the truth. Did you touch any of your dad’s medicine?”

Gert shook his head. Between his choking sobs, he said, “No. He kept them in his drawer and I don’t open that.”

“You didn’t mess with them? Swap labels? Write on them?”

“No… why?”

“Gert, your dad died because he took three times as many sleeping pills and pain pills as he should have, on top of drinking, which you’re not supposed to do with that much medicine. If you didn’t touch it, it wasn’t your fault.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” Gert cried. “I wanted it to happen. And now I can’t take it back.”

“Gert… you know what?” Ateri asked. “It is unfair of me to ask you to tell me your secrets when you don’t know any of mine. I’m going to tell you my secret, and I want you to tell me if I’m a bad person. Okay?”

“Okay.” Gert wiped his eyes and nodded, laying his head on Ateri’s chest.

“You know how my apartment is always a mess?”

“Yeah,” Gert said. “Everybody knows that. It’s not a secret.”

“That’s not what I was getting at,” Ateri said. “See, my father was a mandatory transfer to this ship, but my mother couldn’t come with him. The transfer only allowed for two, and my mother didn’t want me left behind. Instead of taking someone else and leaving me with her, he brought me instead. And he was… accustomed… to having my mother around. So I had to make up for it, despite the fact I was barely tall enough to reach the counters. If he came home and one thing was out of place, he’d beat me and watch me as I cleaned up. I’d have to make his bed, I’d have to scrub the floors, I’d have to fetch beer for him from the market. He constantly called me a worthless sack of shit no matter how much I did for him, simply because I was, in his eyes, only meeting the minimum of making up for his missing mate.”

Gert blinked, but he also peered up at Ateri with incredulity. “You’re not gonna tell me you prayed for him to die, are you?”

“I didn’t have to,” Ateri said. “I left the apartment the moment I could go to the academy, deleted him from my strand contacts, and did not see him again until about six years ago. Which was the day of his Going Away. And here’s the real secret: I went into that room with my father. There was not a single other soul in there; even the administrator had stepped outside in order to not be alone in the same room as him. And he looked… pathetic. Ragged. Smelled awful. I’d never seen a geroo look so old as he did, I wondered if we lived to a hundred we’d look so awful. Anyway, I was already captain by then, and only now was he was full of apologies for how he’d treated me. Said he’d only ever intended to make sure that I was the geroo I was meant to be, responsible and upright and strong. And the fact I was captain now was proof of that. And really, shouldn’t I be grateful to him for all of this?”

“What did you say?” Gert asked, eyes wide.

“Absolutely nothing,” Ateri said. “I could have said something. I could have comforted an old geroo in his final hours, but I said nothing at all. I simply stood there, listening to him for eight minutes. Then I turned and walked out.”

Gert’s ears flattened out.

“So… what’s your judgment?” Ateri asked. “Am I a bad person?”

“I don’t know,” Gert said. “I don’t want to believe anyone is a bad person. But it’s harder when they act so awful.”

“I know,” Ateri sighed. “It was, in the end, an act of petty revenge. Maybe, if I was a better person, deep down, I could have found some way to reconcile with my father. But you know what? Some things you can’t fix. I couldn’t wave a magic wand and make him a better person. My father alone is responsible for his actions—and their consequences. You can’t bear the guilt of the entire universe on your shoulders—that’s not your responsibility.”

“I guess,” Gert said. “But I still shouldn’t have prayed for it. I didn’t have to add to all the horrible stuff in the universe.”

Ateri pulled Gert close and held him tight. “That’s fair. But it’s okay. Even if you fail to do the absolute, perfect, unfailingly correct thing sometimes, I forgive you. Can you forgive yourself?”

“I’ll try,” Gert said. “But I’m gonna do better.”

Ateri turned onto his side, holding the cub close to his chest. “See? That’s your mother’s spirit,” he whispered. “She’s looking out for you, and she’s never going to steer you wrong.”