James Osiris Baldwin
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The Black Garden: Chapter 27
🕑 Added 2025-04-21 22:07:19 +0000 UTCI'm at the point with this novel where I'm having to remind myself that this is part of a very large project that I'm still feeling out in prose, and once it's done, I can make it better. I may end up cutting this chapter in the final version; we'll see. But it does give a bit more dimension to the other characters.
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Out in the field, Gaius and I kept things fairly vanilla and low-key: one of his hands over my wrists, his lips by my ear, voice low and deep as he murmured all the dark and filthy things we’d do once we were home. I begged with my eyes, with the arch of my back and the roll of my hips underneath him. He wrung two orgasms from me before we switched positions: me on top, his hands squeezing my waist as I rode him to release.
“Going on twelve years since you first goosed me in the showers at boot camp, and you’re still this hot for me.” Huffing, grinning, I flopped onto the bed beside him and pushed my hair back from my face. “So flattering.”
“Eh. Man makes do with what he’s got.” Gaius tucked one hand behind his head, offering me his other arm. I snuggled in against his side, tucking my face into the crook of his neck and throwing my leg over one of his. “It’s like when you go to the fridge, looking for something to eat, and there’s all these different foods in there, but then like, you realize you’re too fucking tired to get creative with all these stupid vegetables—"
“Gaius.”
“—but at the back of the fridge, there’s this packet of brats.” Gaius was into the ramble now, narrowing his eyes as he made a suggestive sausage-in-either-hand gesture. “And you’re like… ‘ehhhn, brats again?,’ but then you realize, sure. You’ve been doing a brat for twelve fucking years. Might as well sauce that fucker up.”
I scoffed. “Fuck you. I’m not a brat.”
“You poured iced water on my dick last week.”
“Only because you duct-taped my ankles to my chair.”
“You’re into that shit anyway.” He smacked my butt. I yelped and giggled as he pulled me in against his side. “Now shut up, and be a good little bedwarmer for the ten minutes we got. Bitch.”
“Sure thing, giant hot water bottle.” I yawned beside myself. Despite what I’d said to Lilia about being bright eyed and bushy-tailed, the fatigue of the last few weeks was climbing on me. Soon it would reach an existential level. “You need a power nap? I have no idea when you last slept.”
Gaius sighed. “Don’t have the time. I need to go out and help the others pack up.”
“You can take forty minutes. Let me put you under, and I’ll go fill in for you.”
Gaius thought about it for a moment, running his tongue underneath his upper lip. “Sure. Go for it.”
Most soldiers learned to sleep anywhere and anywhen: sitting, standing, leaning against posts. Gaius had always had trouble. Before the Confluence and its advanced neuromedicine, he’d been a chronic sleepwalker. As in, sleep-brawling, sleep-drinking, sleep-grabbing-a-fire-axe and wandering the streets with it in a fugue, conscious brain deactivated, limbic system on full alert. That had generally led to being sleep-arrested, and waking up handcuffed and bewildered inside a police interrogation room or a cell, being yelled at by irate cops.
The Palae genotechs had fixed the brain damage that caused the sleepwalking, but he still struggled to settle down for short periods. It was something I could help with. As I willed each of the neurochemical pathways to disengage, Gaius sighed, his head dropping to the side to rest against my forehead. I kissed his cheek and tucked my face in against his tattooed neck, breathing deeply. We wore scent suppressing deodorant while on task, but at this distance after our exertions, I could still smell him: earthy, masculine, safe.
Had Mert been starting to trust me in the same, vulnerable way? I’d seen the opportunity to use him because of the pain underneath the sleaze. Even Jak, who had lost his lover to the worst sort of murder, hadn’t seemed so lonely. I knew how he felt. There had always been a space between me and other people, even Gaius. We had shared just over an Earth-decade of comradeship, trust, and passion. In all that time, we’d never once said the three magic words. It was partly because it was unlucky to declare love when the risk of you getting killed all the time was so high. But it was partly because we knew if we admitted how were felt, we might try to leave CEIDR and make a life together, and there would be no happily ever after. Gaius and I had come together through our work. Without it, the thing between us would collapse into boredom and acrimony.
I stayed with him until I got restless, only five minutes or so. Then I got up, got dressed, and went to go help the others pack up the base. Hura was notably absent.
***
Team 1 was getting ready to roll out when Hura finally returned. I was helping to lift and settle one of the large quantum lockers onto the back of one of the other Khem. Ratty, Blackie and the others in Team 2 were getting our pre-mission meal ready. They glanced up at us as Hura glided over to me and loomed. I assumed this meant he wanted to have a word.
“We have considered the source of our prejudices.” He didn’t turn his head to look at me, but instead manifested another pair of iridescent, slit-pupiled eyes on his temple and jawbone. “We concluded that we have been weighing you against the specters of the past. For this, are regretful.”
From a human, that kind of apology could generously be described as ‘cold and unsatisfying’. But when a Khem said they’d discussed it internally and had resolved to make amends, it was a guaranteed honest effort.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I appreciate you taking the time to reach consensus.”
Hura’s new eyes blinked, a flicker of white membrane across the glossy blue-black sclera. “You may extrapolate our history with humankind is... complex. Primarily negative. Your species is aggressive and expansionist, capable of great cruelty and governed by the instincts to dominate, subjugate, and conquer. These make you deeply vulnerable to corruption. It is an undeniable fact. But equally undeniable is that several million of you have joined the Confluence and live in accord, choosing to sublimate these instincts. Also undeniable is that the angels have seen fit to pact with you. We will respect their superior perspective.”
“Well, that’s a little uh... back-handed. But it’s a start.” I offered him a hand. “Shake on it?”
Hura bemusedly extruded a hand roughly the size of my own from his center mass.
“Human custom.” I grasped and gave a firm, brief shake and a clasp, then let him go. Khem looked like they should be cold to touch, but their flesh was hotter than blood and smooth, warmed by the constant friction of their many cytoselves as the massive cells moved over and through one another. There was a rippling sensation as we made contact: Hura absently stripping the dirt and top layer of dead skin from my fingers, compelled by his nature to purify and digest anything that came into contact with him.
“We know this, and we know the origins of shaking hands. Yet it remains whimsical.” Hura withdrew the ‘hand’ back into himself. “... Curious. You have two sets of DNA. Two sets of human chromosomes, male and female. This implies you have been implanted with foreign tissue. A bone marrow transplant?”
I cocked an eyebrow. Oh, right: he’d sampled some of my skin. “No, no foreign tissue. I’m what happens when male and female fraternal twins cannibalize each other in-vitro. XX/XY mosiacism. In my case, it happened real early in the gestation cycle, so the, uh, ‘enmeshment’ was pretty thorough. The female zygote won out slightly, in terms of physiology. Mosaicism is one of about thirty different common sex variations in humans.”
Hura tilted his face down in thought, once again falling silent. As Khem went, he reacted quickly to new verbal information. Most of them were even more ponderous.
“We have learned something we did not know about humankind,” he admitted after a time. “We are familiar with mosaicism in cats.”
“Yeah. Basically all calico and bridled domestic cats. Dogs, as well. They tend to be perisexed though - male or female. But intersex cats and dogs are actually pretty common.” I nodded, amused and a little confused by the sudden turn in the conversation. “Mosaic humans can get those ‘calico’ patches, too. Some of my skin freckles, and some of it doesn’t. The different patches have different cellular structures. My back looks wild under a blacklight. Swirls and stripes everywhere.”
“Hrrn.” Another long pause. “Perhaps we are more alike than we once believed.”
My spirits lifted slightly. Hura including me in the ‘we’... that was a good sign. I was about to ask him ‘how so?’ when Gaius and Lilia broke from their huddle to join us.
“Team one is moving out in twenty,” Lilia said briskly, looking from me to Hura and back. “How are you two going? Sorted yourselves out?”
I glanced at Hura. The Khem did not react. “I think we can work together.”
“We agree,” Hura rumbled.
A smile flickered over Lilia’s mouth. “About fucking time. We were starting to wonder if we needed to book the two of you a room.”
***
Before any big roll-out, my team made a point of taking a meal together. We reheated and rehydrated our MREs together, laughing and chatting. The food was loaded into paper trays, then set on the floor alongside several unopened cans of energy drinks. Two things had to happen before we started eating. The first thing we did was assemble a small, symbolic plate that we set aside in an empty space in the circle. Then we each picked out something from the mess we knew the person to our right would like. Gaius was next to me, so I pinched a piece of cheese-and-pepper cornbread between thumb and forefinger and held it up for him.
“Here comes the airplane.” I grinned.
Gaius obligingly held his mouth open so I could feed it to him. He chewed for a couple seconds, gave me a thumbs-up, then did the same for Lilia with a date taken from one of the snack-packs. She was still new enough to the Roaches to be slightly awkward about taking food from a man who wasn’t her husband, but Gaius could be a gentleman when he wanted to be. To my left, Blackie nudged me with an elbow. I leaned over and took a brownie bite from his hand with dignity born of long practice.
“In memory of Solo.” Once everyone had taken their bit of food from the person next to them, Gaius raised his can toward the plate and empty space in the circle. The rest of us also toasted, momentarily solemn, then cracked the tabs on our drinks in unison. The food on Solomon’s memorial plate was left alone while we drank, then dug into the eclectic mix of chicken and rice, pulled jackfruit, spiced chickpea curry, chocolate pudding, creme brulee pudding, brownies, chocolate-covered peanuts, dried fruit, and unevenly heated mini-pizzas. I could distantly hear the Axuma laughing and snarling at each other outside, psyching each other up for the op by wrestling out in the yard. Hura was the only one of the Taga inside, sitting in front of the tall greenhouse windows and gazing out at the rows of luxuriant tropical plants.
“Hey, big guy,” Gaius called out to him. “Come get some chow with us.”
Hura didn’t seem to hear him for several seconds, before his head slowly turned. “We are content to abide.”
I felt Blackie tense slightly. Ratcatcher grimaced. After our little heart-to-heart before, my first instinct was to let Hura keep his peace and enjoy my meal with my comrades. But Gaius was in the right. I swallowed my mouthful of pizza and twisted back to look at the Khem. “You know, Hura, if you were to try one of these imperishable yet strangely delectable brownies, your opinion on humanity might shift a bit.”
There was no expression on Hura’s mask-like face to read as he continued to look over at us, as poised and aloof as a heron at the edge of a cold lake. I knew there was a battle taking place inside that thick head of his. Khem were almost incapable of turning down food.
“It’s the preservatives that make them delicious,” I added. “They’re the secret to immortality.”
Hura reluctantly eased off the stool, which groaned under his weight, and moved to join us. He radiated defensive tension as he folded down to sit in the space Ratcatcher and Lil made for him, crossing his legs and resting his forearms on his knees. He hesitated before reaching toward the untouched plate of snacks beside him.
“Ah, sorry, not that plate.” Ratty shook her head and handed Hura a loaded paper tray from one of the MRE kits. “That is Solomon’s. Here.”
Hura’s head swiveled to look between us, lingering on Gaius. “There is no member of your squad with that name.”
“He’s gone.” Blackie glared at Hura over the edge of his can as he took a swig of violently blue energy drink.
“Solomon was the original leader of DWO-6.” I said, pushing my plate away. “Me and Gaius went through boot camp with him, way back before the DWO program even started.”
“Yeah. Good man. Good soldier. One of the Ethiopian diaspora aboard Jump Base Tiamat,” Gaius added. “The three of us were the core of the original Roaches. Solo got wiped by Mammon during that shit-show, but me and Slutface here—” he gestured at me. “—are still around to keep all these little baby brats in line.”
“Yeah. Slutface is my actual real name, by the way,” I said, taking a sip of my drink.
Gaius slapped me on the shoulder. “You would not believe how many cocks you can fit in this bad boy.”
“They are always like this,” Lilia said aside to Hura.
Hura’s hand liquefied and spread out over his plate of food, engulfing it. “We believe you without question, Actual.”
“Speaking of. Squad rule is that anyone who’s working on a hunt with us for the first time has to tell us a story,” Gaius said. “Doesn’t have to be real. But if it’s not real, it has to be good enough we can’t tell.”
“A story.” Hura let out a resonant, thrumming hum through his skin. He sounded faintly resigned. “What subject interests you?”
“Well, I got one,” I said, leaning in against Gaius’s shoulder. “You said you spent some time in Japan on an Earth somewhen.”
By the expressions of the others, they had also been wondering about this.
“We did,” Hura admitted. “Earth Instance 334-109-7B. A breach occurred on the surface of Mars. It was sealed by CEIDR’s DWO-1, with the aid of the Taga Avaya. The source of the Breach appeared to be from the activities of vectorized humans local to the Japanese city of Nagoya, 1981.”
“Hey, I remember this,” Gaius said. “Wolf Langley from Team One told me a bit about this incident. Rest his soul.”
Hura grunted agreement. “As with others in the 334 temporal cluster, this Earth was non-magical. It was, however, technologically advanced for its time, replete with crude cybernetics, non-sentient A.I, and comically large motorcycles. Overpopulation was a critical issue in many parts of the world. Japan was an oligarchic corporate state, politically powerful and influential. The country had become rich supplying the Union of the Americas forces in the Third US Civil War. The wealth was far from evenly distributed.”
“Never is,” Blackie sighed.
“Nagoya was still relatively habitable, but dense. It was a religious center for the nation, with many temples and shrines. Initial investigations suggested a vectorized human, Sashigane Asano, had founded an Abyssal cult and was preying on Buddhist monks within Nagoya, nullifying them in ‘rituals’ intended to destabilize the local reality matrix and create Breaches,” Hura said, after a long pause. “We were assigned to the largest Buddhist temple in Nagoya, Kakuozan Nittai-ji. We assumed a place inside of the Spirit Hall, the location where monks had previously been abducted. The most effective tactic was to assume the form of a statue of the god Enma-O in the central space of the Spirit Hall. Our appearance caused great consternation.”
“I... uh... imagine it did.” I raised both my brows.
“And this obvious display... it was the most effective tactic?” Ratty asked.
“It was. We wished to generate intense publicity.” Hura’s eyes absorbed back into his body as he skillfully assumed the dark, yellow-tinged patina of a gold-bronze statue. “Local, then international media covered the incident. Metallurgy tests were taken. I synthesized a layer of period-appropriate gold-bronze to convince those scrutinizing me that I was, in fact, merely a miraculous statue.”
“For context, that temple is reputed to hold the ashes of the Buddha.” I wanted a cigarette, but smoking cigs was off-limits in all F.O.Bs, so I took out my vape and primed it. “It’s one of those places people expect miracles to occur. Japanese Buddhism also has a lot of influence from, like, Japanese myth. One of those myths is that the god of hell is also the avatar of this old Buddhist statue that was originally a Shinto kami.”
“Yes.” Hura replied. “We did not know if the Heavenly Iron Promise—the cult—was headquartered in Nagoya, or even within Japan. Their source and structure were well-hidden. However. We know that Sashigane believed that for the human species to progress, the gates to hell must be opened so that humans might couple with demons and become powerful hybrid beings. Once he heard of this miracle in the temple in which his people had hunted, superstition would eventually overcome suspicion, and he would visit me.”
“Huh. Was that a Taga CENTNEX decision, or a you decision?” Blackie watched me as I took a greedy pull from the vape, held it, and blew a caramel-scented cloud to the side. Wordlessly, I offered it to him.
“Ous,” Hura replied. “It took roughly four weeks for the hysteria to abate. In that time, a young monk took it upon himself to ‘care’ for us. Sojun. He adorned us with flowers and strings of woven paper. He washed us and would meditate before us. He would chant the names and deeds of the dead to us for hours at a time, requesting compassion on their journey to reincarnation. Though him, we learned about many humans who had passed. Before meeting Sojun, we were not aware that humans were capable of the restraint and discipline of Khemmemu. Before him, I knew no redeeming qualities of humankind. We found meaning in his recollection of the dead, and much to admire in his conduct.”
Blackie punctuated that by taking a fat hit off the vape.
“Inevitably, the cultists came. They arrived while Sojun sat in meditation before us.” Hura had almost absently shifted more and more toward the figure of the statue as he recounted the story: eyeless, darkly metallic, composed in the lotus position. “Sashigane and a dozen of his inner circle. We knew by his stench that he was profoundly vectorized.”
“We allowed them to abduct Sojun. We followed closely,” Hura said heavily. “Even in captivity, Sojun was compassionate and composed. He successfully talked several of his captors into almost releasing him. Sashigane learned of their intent, and nullified these minions when he learned of their betrayal. We followed them to Tokyo, to the Abyssal Martian artifact that was acting as an Abyssal transmitter. We destroyed the artifact, four Violators and their spawn, one Shinden Kaihatsu warehouse and port complex, two gunships, eighty-three corporate soldiers, and Sashigane.”
“And Sojun?” I asked, a sliver of dread twisting in my belly.
“Rescued safely,” Hura finished. “When his term at Nittai-ji concluded, he returned to the Koyasan Kongobu-ji temple complex at Mount Koya. Sojun became an Ajari at the age of fifty-two. He passed away in meditation at ninety-two years of age, praying on behalf of all sentient beings. We visited him frequently over the course of his life, and were honored to witness his passing.”
“That’s beautiful,” Lilia said. “I’m sorry you lost him.”
“It was inevitable. Humans are a short-lived species without genomic modification. He did not wish to join the Confluence, though he approved of us.” Hura’s skin rippled, returning to its typical smooth indigo hue. “His dream was a universal presence, without suffering.”
A shadow passed over the entryway to the earthship’s greenhouse, and Pred-5 Actual ducked through the doorway. “We are ready to depart, Team 1.”
“That’s our cue.” Gaius slapped his hands down on his thighs and heaved himself up. He paused to rub the top of my head while I scowled at him.
“Indeed. Thank you, Hura. For the story and the company.” Lilia smiled at him as she picked herself up. “Team 2, you’re doing the dishes.”
“Ugh.” Blackie grimaced, looking over the mess of packages and empty soda cans inside the ring. “Ratty, you do it.”
Ratty slowly picked herself up, looming over Blackie while he leaned away from her against the floor. “I will break you in half if you do not get me a trash bag.”
Blackie gave me a plaintive look. I handed him the vape. He took another hit from it, sighed, and clambered to his feet. “Tsch. Best Hunter in the Corps, and she’s treating me like a bloody scullery maid.”
“I believe in you, Blackie. You’ll get through this. You can even borrow my French maid outfit if you need to get in character,” I said.
“Fuck off. I already got my own maid outfit. Real silk. Ten times better than your fuckin’ satin knockoff crap.”
Blackie tossed the vape to me. I caught it with a grin. “Easier to wash the cum stains out of satin.”
“You were correct, Actual. They are always like this.” Hura liquified, and oozed upright.
“They are,” Lilia said, tiredly.
“I will review the mission plan. Zealot,” Hura said, twisting his face toward me. “Meet me in the Master bedroom in ten minutes. We will finalize loadout there.”
“Yes daddy,” I blurted.
Hura stared.
“Things just come out of his mouth sometimes,” Gaius said, before I could.
Comments
James Osiris Baldwin
I might write up that adventure of Hura's into a comic book some day.
JohnJacobDongleHammerSchitt
sorry im late to the chapter, going through some sickness, but im mostly better now. interesting asano tie in owo. slowly inserting your other works into your 'verse?
