Molly Fyde and the Parsona Rescue

The large Glemot waved him off. “Previously known.” They turned to go.

“Wait,” Molly said. They stopped and turned. “How’s Walter?” she asked.

The darkest Glemot shifted uncomfortably. “The metal one is… adequately secured,” he said. With that, they thundered into the trees.

Molly and Cole were left in the clearing with their troubled thoughts. Molly felt awful for Walter but glad that he was alive. Her stomach knotted with worry. And guilt. She had betrayed the people who patched her arm, housed her, and fed her. She tried to focus on the millions of Glemots the Camptons had killed, but weighing impersonal facts—a million souls extinguished—against her own experiences produced sickening results. Shouldn’t the former outweigh the latter?

In silence they walked back to the camp, their thoughts out of character. Molly philosophized, dwelling on the nature of relative harms, while Cole focused on the practical and pressing matter: how were they going to find their “nuke” in time?

****

Something felt different as soon as they emerged on the Campton’s hill. Hundreds of Glemots milled about down by the stream, several of them arguing loudly, their voices rumbling. The entire hill shuddered from heavy feet stomping this way and that. Two Glemots rushed over to her and Cole.

“Detail recent coordinates!” one of them demanded with a growl.

Molly was unable to speak, her stomach crawling up her throat and attempting to flee.

“Uh, reporting back from the training camp,” Cole said.

The two Glemots bristled with anger, the fur along their shoulders waving in the windless air. One of them held a stick as thick as Molly’s thighs; even his casual gestures with it seemed life-threatening.

Another Glemot down the rise yelled, “Nikola! Leo!”

The duo turned and waved, then spun back to Cole and Molly. “Report to Doctor Watt,” one of them commanded before they bounded off.

Molly spotted Watt by one of the tents; he waved at them frantically. She and Cole rushed down, marveling at the level of activity on what yesterday had been such a quiet sylvan glade. Like the Navy’s satellite, Parsona had arrived and disrupted the order of things. Now they needed to do the impossible: piece her together and return to orbit. Molly felt overwhelmed by their plan as she hurried down to Watt.

The doctor checked Molly’s arm before surveying their faces. “Your acquaintance Walter, and Edison, my offspring, have simultaneously been apprehended by the Leefs.”

Molly had no problem feigning worry. Confusion looks similar enough. Why would Edison be missing? This wasn’t part of the plan.

Watt also informed them that some from the council saw the arrival of their ship into the Glemot system as a bit of a coincidence. So much had happened, and happened fast, since it was brought to the surface. There was talk of recalculating risk/reward formulas that involved Cole and Molly. So far, it was just a few Glemots, but the growling would spread.

“How do you know Edison’s missing?” Molly asked. She hoped the pup was off looking for the Campton’s EMP device, the one they were going to pass off to the Leefs as a nuke.

“Moderate fur samples matching Edison’s were discovered near Walter’s containment area,” said Watt. “Querying observers resulted in counter-claims. Several noted Edison in the vicinity of camp late morning, approximately. The antitheses is suggested by group two: the subject in question was in fact his litter mate Orville. No sample saw both simultaneously.”

Molly couldn’t believe it. The fur Edison and Cole had used to frame the Leefs was backfiring. There would still be a war, and a trap, but events were moving too quickly… emotions amplifying equations.

“Where’s Orville?” Cole asked.

“Whittling war sticks alongside the young.”

“Can we talk to him? See how he’s doing?”

This seemed to please Watt immensely. He pointed down to the woods beyond the stream.

Molly patted Watt on the arm before she hurried off. “Your boys will be okay,” she told him.

“Everything will,” Watt said, his thick jargon missing from the simple phrase.

••••

Cole led Molly into the forest, following the sounds of young Glemot chatter. “Let me do the talking,” he told her.

“Glad to,” she replied.

As they approached, the circle of pups fell silent and turned to glare at them. Cole had a bad feeling this wasn’t going to go well. Orville shot up from the ground and strode toward them, a sharpened stick in hand.

“Follow,” he said as he rumbled past.

Cole grabbed Molly’s hand, and they followed the pup deeper into the woods, out of sight from the rest of the youth. He spun on both of them, his swiftness startling.

“Inciting hostilities? Brainwashing my litter mate? Enunciate!”

Cole held up both hands, palms out. If this came to blows, it would go badly for them. Somehow Orville had sniffed out his brother, so lying was probably not the best option. But neither was the whole truth.

“Whoa, pal. Your brother came to us. Said he had a plan to disrupt the balance or something. That he’d kill us if we didn’t go along.”

Orville’s face flashed as some part of this registered. “Disrupt the balance?” Orville repeated.

Cole seized on this. “He said he had a way of wiping out the Leefs. He wanted to use our friend, Walter, as bait. We agreed if it meant sparing his life.”

“This ruse I am previously cognizant of. My suspicions were great when he queried me on the electromagnetic pulse device.”

Cole wanted to groan out loud, but contained himself. Everything hinged on that device, and on Edison being able to deliver it.

“Where’s your brother?” Molly asked.

Orville shifted his gaze over to her. “Detained.” It was all they were going to get.

Cole squeezed her hand; he tried a different route. It didn’t look like they were going to be turned in or killed by Orville. And if they were from the same litter, perhaps their goals were different, but their basic needs were the same. “Did Edison also tell you how he was going to get onto the council?” he asked.

Orville bent his knees and lowered his face down to Cole’s level. The hair on his shoulders waved back and forth. “Talk,” he said.

Cole did. And he hoped it wouldn’t trouble Molly to see how good he was at stretching the truth…

••••

“…and after the last Leef was killed in the trap, Edison would reveal to the adults that it had been his plan. He’d show the detailed calculations, the numbers of increased Campton procreation, how an overall balance could be restored while breaking the local one. Your brother thought the Council would honor him with a seat, that he’d be on a fast track to leading this tribe, long before his fur darkened.”

Molly tried to keep her composure as Cole wrapped up his fictionalized account of the past day. She could tell Orville was riveted—she had been as well. It fascinated her how Cole weaved truth with lie, understanding which emotions to trigger and reeling his prey right in. She wondered if his imagination for conspiracy theories tapped into this ability or if the skill was just finely-honed, thanks to his paranoia.

She chewed on this possibility while Orville seemed to be considering something else.

“Edison,” Orville finally said, shaking his head. “That deceptive brigand.” He looked down at Cole and waved his stick back and forth through the air between them. “Enormous wisdom to divulge completely, young human. My sibling attempted many untruths, a crazed speech of tactical warheads and double-crosses. Your account contains accuracy. Come. Together we confront the upstart and his plan transfers to me. Afterwards, my litter mate’s rumored demise becomes reality.”

Orville thumped the ground with his stick and slapped Cole on the shoulder. It nearly drove him off his feet. “Come,” he said cheerily, and bounded through the forest.

Molly and Cole looked at one another. The plan was falling apart, but they had no choice. They hurried off after Orville, struggling to keep up.