01.062 Shoot

Monday, February 7, 2022

Aqrabuamelu compound, Flushing, Queens, New York, United States

“How did you do that?” Tauthe asked Ella that evening stripping off her trainers and massaging her feet.

Ella lied, “I have been shooting since I was young.”

“But Zaidu has been shooting since gunpowder was invented. And crossbows before that. And every other weapon imaginable.”

“He said he didn’t think shooting like that was possible,” added Etana.

Ella had let her temper get to her. Zaidu had gone first, he had gone up to the firing line, taken 15 shots, with a grouping that Ella knew was tight.

She had already been stewing when Zaidu had announced, “Since the vermin thinks she knows guns so well, let’s see how she does next.” Maybe it was him going back to calling her vermin.

It has been a milder than most of his criticism, but it was the proverbial last straw. She had jammed on her eye and ear protection, stepped up and taken aim, and cheated. She had flared her eyes and just cut loose.

Each shot went exactly where she wanted to. Too exactly. In nice letters she had put an ‘FU’ in fifteen bullets.

Even while she was shooting she knew it was a bad idea, but she couldn’t help herself. She had almost sent the bullets through the same hole but whatever slight bit of prudence she had left had stopped her.

Zaidu had held up the sheet, and his coppery colored skin had paled. He had started swearing, quite extensively in German.

Then he walked away, just leaving them there.

“I was just pissed. And I should have missed some to make him feel better. It was a mistake.”

They went to the canteen and Ella grabbed a salad and some chicken to throw on top. She didn’t trust the stews.

Tabir was there and motioned her to sit down.

“Hey, Emma! Come here.” Ella didn’t correct him. She didn’t care. She was tired and dreading the next time she saw Zuida.

“Hey,” he repeated as she sat down. He looked immensely happy to see her. “You are the first human I have ever kitted out. And then you asked for civvies which was a lot of fun. I picked up a bunch of stuff for you to try out. So come over to requisitions sometime.”

“Okay.”

“Who is she?”

“She is a human. What else would she be?”

“Did we escape from Kur to lie to each other? Damn you!”

Arcsa sat back and regarded Zaidu. They had known each other for millenia. From Ekerri’s crèches, through the many, many wars of conquest. They had served in the same unit hundreds of times, been on the same battlefields hundreds of times.

Arcsa did not much care for Zaidu. He never had. Zaidu was rigid and unyielding. But orthodox and predictable. He would be stuck in the role of drill sergeant for his life because he was capable of no more. His weaknesses kept in check and his strengths leveraged for the benefit of Inannas faithful. And Zaidu was faithful, as much as Arcsa wished he wasn’t so he could tear Zaidu apart and feast on his entrails.

“Why a human? We have never let them in. I have served with humans for thousands of years in their armies. But this? This is too far.”

Arcsa sighed. He, Bahu, and the High Priestess had discussed this many times. And there was only one answer.

“Did you know to keep a normal human population stable, you must have a replacement rate of 2.1? And us? We serve in armies all over the world, we live and die in fights that are meaningless to us. Our replacement rate needs be much higher. And how many do we have in this years cohort!”

Zaidu sat silent.

“How many!?” yelled Arcsa.

“Four.”

“Yes. And so how will the Faith continue? We are a dead people. Just not eaten by the worms yet.”

Arcsa sat back. The cover story was what it was - a desperate gamble.

“Then how do you explain this?” Zaidu snarled and he slapped down a paper target. On it were bullet holes neatly across the head

• • •   •     •
•       •     •
• •     •     •
•         • •

They looked too perfect, too regular.

Damn that girl. Arcsa was forced to extemporize. “Why do we think she was chosen to be our test subject? She was perfect, her age is close to the others, her coloring close, and she is driven… As if I care about this?” And he grabbed and crumpled up the target and threw it at the garbage can in the corner.

Arcsa went on the attack to deflect further, “You would be impressed too if you gave her a chance. But I hear you aren’t training her at all. Just abusing her. Is it because she is a human?”

“Not because of that. I won’t train a heretic.”

If only you knew, thought Arcsa.

Now to deal with that stupid girl who happened to be his goddess.