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Simon carefully slit open the box of books, pulled out the packing slip, and checked off the copies of each book before putting them on the shelves in the stock room. Everything he’d ordered before the storm suddenly showed up, making him wonder if railcars that were carrying merchandise for the terra indigene had been left on a siding somewhere. Now it was advantageous to ship merchandise to the Others because any properly sized train that had an earth native freight car had a better chance of safely passing through the wild country. “All freight or no freight” seemed to be the new motto.
Fine by him. Blair and Henry were taking two of the Courtyard’s vehicles to make a second cargo run, which made him think Meg might be right about hiring the Harry to pick up deliveries.
The back door opened. Michael Debany eased around the boxes piled willy-nilly.
“You want me to break down the empty boxes?” Debany asked.
“Break down?”
“Slit them at the seams and flatten the cardboard.”
Simon pondered that for a moment. Did the Others have a use for flat cardboard? “No. We can use the boxes to ship the books we’re sending to other places.”
Debany lifted a handful of books out of the top box and handed them to Simon without marking the packing slip. It reminded him of Sam offering toys in an effort to engage an adult because he was unhappy about something. Since Simon didn’t know why Debany was unhappy, he placed the books together on a shelf instead of where they were supposed to go. He would mark the packing slip after the human went away.
“I heard from Bee. Barb. My sister?”
Wondering why that would make the man unhappy, Simon said, “Isn’t that good?”
“It is, yes. She’s settling in and busy.” Debany’s laugh sounded forced. “They gave her a horse. She’ll never come back.”
Simon stopped trying to work and studied the police officer. “Some young stay with their pack, but others have to leave their home territory to find a place in a new pack or to find a mate. Humans travel for those reasons too.”
“You found a place where she can do the kind of work she wanted to do. I appreciate it.”
“No, you don’t.”
This laugh sounded more natural. “I do, but I don’t.” Debany sighed. “It’s so far away now, you know? A couple of months ago, Bennett would have been just as far away, but Mom and Dad would have been talking about making a visit to see Barb’s new home. They would have sent an e-mail a couple of times a week to keep in touch and make sure she was doing okay. But now, they can’t call to say hello or receive a quick response that would reassure them. It’s different now.”
“Yes, it’s different now.” Debany was thinking about quick communication, but Simon was thinking about Joe Wolfgard, whose howl wouldn’t be heard again. “But you gave your sister labels and stamps, and Tolya and Jesse Walker gave her postcards and paper to write letters.” And knowing the girl’s connection to the Lakeside Courtyard, Tolya would keep an eye on her. Not sure if that would be a comfort, he didn’t mention it.
“Merri says if I want to receive letters, I’d better start writing letters.”
This he would mention. “Postcards are better unless you’re writing a long letter or it’s something private. There are Crows and Ravens helping to sort mail now in places like Bennett, and they like looking at the pictures and reading the messages.” Seeing the look on Debany’s face, he shrugged. “There’s more than one kind of shiny.”
A bump and a mutter had them looking toward the front of the stock room.
“Lieutenant,” Debany said.
“Michael.” Montgomery looked around at all the boxes. “Back orders?”
“Orders and back orders,” Simon replied. “And two more vans full of boxes coming in.”
“Guess I’ll get ready for work,” Debany said.
“This afternoon we’re finally signing the papers and handing over the money for the two apartment buildings. By tomorrow, Merri Lee can choose her den, and Eve Denby will help her clean it and paint it.” Since Montgomery was listening, Simon resisted the urge to ask about mating customs and if Debany would be moving into the den too. The sex part of mating and the living in the same den were different things for humans. He and Meg spent as much time living in the same place—and sleeping in the same bed—as Debany and Merri Lee, but Meg was still more like a maiden female who wasn’t ready for the sex part of mating.
But she was very good at play.
Shaking off those thoughts—and admitting he wanted to postpone giving Montgomery the message he’d been asked to deliver—he realized Debany had slipped out and now it was Montgomery who was handing him books.
The man looked older and weighed down by some hard truths.
“Miss Twyla nipped the pups this morning,” he offered.
Montgomery smiled at that. “My mama doesn’t take back talk from anyone. Lizzy should have known better.”
“She will the next time.”
“We always think there will be enough time, but that’s not always true, is it?”
Simon waited, but when Montgomery just held the books, he reached over and took them. “Sometimes a pack doesn’t catch meat in time to save all its members if they’ve been hungry for too long, but you’ll bring back food in time.” Wasn’t that the most important consideration right now? The farms that belonged to the terra indigene and were worked by Intuits in exchange for part of the bounty hadn’t suffered much from the storms and the Elders’ sweep through human places, and the Courtyard’s gardens had survived and were growing quickly during these warm, sunny days. While the Others could easily adapt to eating whatever the current season would provide, he and the rest of the Business Association were aware that humans weren’t used to thinking in those terms.
“The reports coming from Brittania and the west coast of Afrikah . . .” Montgomery reached for more books but didn’t pick up any. “Cel-Romano is really gone. All those cities, all those people. Millions of people dead. Whole cities turned into charnel houses. Whole cultures destroyed beyond recovery. No survivors.” The last words were barely a whisper.
“There are always survivors, Lieutenant,” Simon snapped. Didn’t mean there would be enough survivors for the species to continue, but he wasn’t going to share that with Montgomery. Not when he had a message to deliver.
“What will happen to the survivors?”
Wondering if the man was concerned about humans on the other side of the Atlantik or if he was thinking of something—or someone—else, Simon said, “They’ll get up in the morning and work in their fields, tend their animals, drive their carts to the marketplace in their village, gossip with their friends, take out a boat and bring back fish to eat and sell. There may be things that will be hard to buy, at least for a while, but the humans who kept their bargain with the terra indigene will get by. Even in Cel-Romano. And so will we. Your pup may not get all the treats she wants, and there will be some days when none of us have a completely full belly, but we’ll have enough.”
“In the Courtyard.”
Since Montgomery had stopped helping with the books, Simon retrieved the packing list and checked off the books in one box before he opened the next one.
“We’re not here to take care of you humans,” he said. “We never were. We’re here to take care of the world.” He set the packing slips aside. “Tell Captain Burke and Agent O’Sullivan that tomorrow morning the three of you will meet some of us at the consulate.”
“Why?”
A shiver went through Simon. “Because Ocean is coming to Lakeside, and she wants to talk to you.”
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“Gods above and below,” O’Sullivan said. “Was Wolfgard serious?”
Standing in Burke’s office with the door closed, Monty wished he could deny it. “He’s serious.”