The Puppethead War #7 - Friday is Almost Over

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As "Friday" comes to a close, I confess that I did not initially plan a long focus on Daiv, and I apologise if this current dark turn seems to clash with the opening issues.  Next time will be different as we shift focus to a character nearly forgotten about.

Yoh hammered the final wooden pole into the soft ground, this one standing at the north-most point of the Yerz inlet.

'Where do you suppose Mr Sasket and the others are?' he called out to Tean. The sun was sliding lower in the sky and the riders, bound for the Floating Village over a day ago, had not yet returned.

At the other end of the beach, his brother shrugged and pointed back to Yerz. Yoh knew what would happen next, despite having little idea of how it happened. Once Tean pulled the lever, powerful energy would surge through the fencing wire.

The contents of the box, the merchant in Arten had said, were various products of the earth, primarily potatoes mixed with potent alchemical concoctions. The energy would leave the box and travel along the wire, wanting to return to the earth it came from. Touching the fence granted the energy's wishes, but the body it passed through was scorched as if by an interior fire.

'We can only hope this invention works against inhuman creatures,' said Tean, joining Yoh at the doors of the boat shed. The sight of the ramp being fenced off unsettled both of the young men, having been accustomed to seeing fishermen come and go constantly until the week past.

Yoh shrugged for no apparent reason. 'You know, I thought you'd have a joke or something lined up.'

'What about: with this energy fence, we're “lightning” the mood?'

The brothers stood in awkward silence, then Yoh remembered their other duty to be done before sunset.

'We had better make sure that all the houses are secure. The fence won't protect us if they come out with enough force.'

Tean grumbled. 'If they come out at all.'

Yoh did not lecture his brother about being too eager for battle. Instead he said, 'I'd have been more confidant guarding the town if the riders were back tonight.'

***

'You will not be returning to Yerz until early morning,' said Darrin. The “Grape” craft surfaced near the cove of the boatmen, sliders in the top half revealing a darker sky than Daiv had imagined. The lateral movement as they rose from the pressures at the bottom of the lake might have been driven by extra puppetheads – indeed, they must have required agents “on the ground”, so to speak, to take away the unconscious mindswapped bodies.

Dammit, Daiv thought. How many of these retched monsters were there? How many were willing to leave their own bodies behind in this invasion? Where were the other protesters that Laryet had mentioned?

The Grape moved towards the shore and the boy noticed that Darrin was fiddling with a mask and backpack vest. From the design of the thin metal curls it was probably a Quandu artefact.

One of the men that had jumped Daiv in the alley began speaking.

'Commander, are you going to –'

'Keep in line, Arak,' Darrin Sasket said, eliciting a confused expression from the soldier. 'I am not Commander, I am Mr Darrin Sasket. You are now Arak.'

'My target was called March,' the other man from the alley said.

'That name will stay,' Mr Sasket said without pause. He attached the mask to the body of the apparatus and then to his own face. His voice slightly muffled but still understandable, he continued. 'Those who know their target's name will be referred to by that name and nothing else. Otherwise, make something up that sounds... human.'

The front end – or back end, it didn't seem to be distinguished – of the Grape jerked to a stop on the pebbles of the beach. Daiv stood facing what he thought of as starboard, with Roran and the Floating Village boy still recovering on his right. He wasn't sure if they were also in his position or if he was the only one spared.

The boy stood up. 'I shall be called Dripelev.'

Too much to hope for, Daiv thought, as he tried to keep a straight face. One by one they climbed into the frigid waters and waded to shore. The boy who naively wanted to be named after a joke from the eastern peaks appeared less steady on his feet than the others, who would have had time to practise locomotion back on the pontoons. Daiv tried to add a slight wobble to his own step.

'Prepare yourselves and the humans' montigers,' Darrin called. 'We will leave three hours before dawn.' He turned slightly away from them but looked back after a second.

'In case you'd forgotten, that's a quartech.'

The Commander dived into the water.

***

The riders' mounts had stayed by the beach since they had left that morning. When Daiv approached Durga, he was wary of the puppethead soldiers' glances. In particular, Arak paid attention to the manner that the Yerz boy's presence affected the beast.

'I should have known,' he said, appearing at Daiv's side. 'I should have guessed that this would happen, “Daiv”.'

The rider stood stock still, his hand midway down Durga's saddle straps.

'What do you mean?'

A suspicious smile crossed the man's face.

'You've been practising with the montiger souls, haven't you?'

Relief washed through Daiv and he turned look at Arak with his head bowed sheepishly.

''fraid so,' he said. He raised his voice. 'How about I give the rest of you a hand?'

The other three montigers had backed up the slope and into the trees, each sounding a low growl of the kind that loosened bowels in the wild. The puppethead soldiers were clustered at the door of the hut, watching for the beasts' outlines in the rapidly dimming light.

***

A fire had been put up by the more learned of the group, including Daiv, who had tried to appear aloof, in control and talk as little as possible since calming the montigers. The creatures that had taken up residence in Roran, “Dripelev”, March, Arak and the woman (named a preposterous “Evaraea”, which Daiv sorely wished to tell her to shorten to Eva) were gathered around the flames, eating rations and discussing things like the feel of wind on little skin hairs or the limited range of sight that their targets had.

'Daiv, monster tamer,' one called out. 'Join us.'

The boy had given the excuse as Laryet that it was important to spend time with the mounts, let them smell you and so on. He and the sixth puppethead agent were both a way out from the pitiful flames, Daiv reassuring Durga while watching the puppethead, who clutched his head every now and again.  He also appeared to be muttering to himself.

Since the soldiers were not particularly well regimented, Daiv approached the group as casually as possible.  Disgust rose in his throat. Knowing that these people were not people at all but evil invaders was torture enough that he almost wished Laryet had not spared him.

'What's his problem?' he asked, pointing to the shaken-looking one. He sat between Roran and Dripelev, hoping that they wouldn't get personal about life under the lake and reveal his pretence.

'You three don't know,' March said in a matter-of-fact way. 'Apparently, the Commander killed Darys's body when you arrived at the village... I sure can't blame him for being out of it.'

Evaraea – still an awful name – butted in.

'I guess that's why you let your own target escape then, “March”.'

The man was visibly distressed.

'Just be lucky you got the pick of the female warriors. Laryet here's surely miffed with her gender-bender.'

Daiv then tried to act distressed. 'Why should you care? It's what Darrin Sasket would have of us.'

Arak cut the conversation in half. 'If you ask me, the Commander has grown the grass after all these years in human.'

The circle was quiet. Daiv got the impression that each soldier was hoping the one next to him shared the sentiment, a euphemism evidently about insanity.

'You don't know the half of it,' Dripelev finally said. Daiv's hopes of a partner in subterfuge were doused. 'I heard that he tortured his own body to death in order to extract every last detail from the target.'

For the first time, Roran spoke. 'Dangerous and crazy or not, he's still the Commander.'

As the others nodded in assent, Daiv knew that he had gotten in far too deep.