“In the attitude of silence the soul finds the path in an clearer light, and what is elusive and deceptive resolves itself into crystal clearness. Our life is a long and arduous quest after Truth.” - Mahatma Gandhi
Califorrnia Highway 58, East of Bakersfield
Change Year 10
The sand-and-black horse clopped along the flat stone rock formation making up a significant portion of the plateau upon which the caravan had modestly camped itself. The setting sun cast a lavender shadow across the vast burnt desert and the former Sequoia National Park as it crept closer to the horizon. The still air offered no noise at all except for the beast's running clacks, shooting through the air like cracks of a whip. Onward it rode until it reached the end of the formation—a clean cliff just off of Highway 58, overlooking the valley, first with the old city of Bakersfield as the first visible landmark.
The horse finally stopped near the edge of the cliff, not far from another horse tied to an old metal bench miraculously still in the area. The rider confidently swung legs down to the ground after tying the second horse securely to the other side of the heavy bench, and began to examine the area.
"Aves." The tall figure's voice was high-pitched, but it meant business. "Aves, you're going to have to come back to camp. Right now." Silence. The woman didn't roll her eyes or huff in exasperation; instead, she continued onward, unfazed, until she stopped near a cluster of rocks that looked a little familiar. "Aves, we made a deal."
A worn black Stetson peered out from behind the stacked stones. A pair of tired brown eyes stared back at the woman from under the brim, surrounded by a mane of long brown hair. "You had to say that, didn't you, Clarissa?" she sighed, then reached out her hands to push herself up from the ground. She was much smaller than the other woman, even with a pair of long-loved leather boots propping her up just marginally. She dusted off her long, oversized off-white cotton wrap and dark green dress and looked out over the valley. "I had a feeling you'd find me here if you really needed me."
"Well, we've actually needed you in the last hour," the woman spelled out with her fingers, starting to step backwards toward the two horses. Her crystal-blue eyes were clouded with a held-back concern. "We've been hearing a few things. We need to get going. As soon as possible."
"Like what?" Aves asked calmly, bending back toward the rocks to pluck up her Martin. She stepped quickly to catch up to the other woman. "And from who?"
"Gary was out today," the tall woman started as she and the far-shorter brunette sauntered toward the pair of horses tied to the old bench, "and he said he'd been hearing that there was a problem in Bakersfield."
"Oh, the Catholics moving in on the Mormons?" Aves responded, her eyes blinking in confusion. "But we knew that already. That's been going on a while."
"No, this is about Sacramento," Clarissa said a little rushedly as she lengthened her stride in order to walk faster, "they're everywhere from the northern side. They're here."
"Sacramento?" Aves repeated. She looked out over the valley, at what had seemed like a busy Bakersfield, not unlike any other time she'd seen it from this spot before. She looked back to the other woman. "Are you sure about that? You really think they'd go this far south for a city like Bakersfield?"
"No, I'm not here to think about any of this stuff," Clarissa returned impatiently, "but I am here to come get you. We need to go."
The two women reached the horses and began to untie the long loops of rope attaching them to the old bench. "All right," Aves answered, furrowing her eyebrows a little as she pulled a cover for her guitar from a pack situated on her horse, "all right, I'll head back. You're not usually like this."
"Well, it's not every day that you hear that some army from Sacramento is heading into the neighborhood," Clarissa skittered nervously. She stepped to Aves to help cover the guitar, fully intending to rush her along. "I'm sorry, but we just need to go, and now, and-"
"It's all right," Aves interrupted neutrally, slinging the guitar across her back via a sturdy strap and then hoisting herself up onto the saddle by driving a foot into a stirrup and sliding a leg over the seat, smoothing her long skirt to keep it from becoming tangled. "We'll go back now."
# # #
"What took you so long?" the voice boomed out from a tent as the two women finally hitched their horses to one of the heavy wagons on the edge of the camp.
"I was only gone about twenty minutes," Clarissa replied glumly, sighing and slumping her shoulders frustratedly as she slunk away moodily. "See you later."
Aves and the tall man watched the woman wander off. "You really shouldn't talk to her like that," Aves sighed flatly. "That's no way to get her to do something for you."
"This is more important," Gary snapped back. He pointed out over the valley toward the city as he began to walk toward the center of the encampment. "It's sundown and they're supposed to attack down there. There's no way in hell we're going to the market tomorrow, and there's no way we can leave tonight."
"No fires tonight," Aves said definitively, adjusting the guitar still slung across her back along with the small pack she took from her saddle. "We don't need to draw attention to ourselves. I'd rather get a little cold than even a little destroyed. And I'm not sure about the market yet."
"You're kidding," Gary stressed loudly, looking to Aves with a bewildered expression on his normally-stony face. "We're not going in there."
"We don't know that yet." Aves continued to walk along, her expression not wavering or changing in the slightest. "We'll decide in the morning."
Gary gritted his teeth and continued to walk alongside the small woman. "I'm going to make it clear that I don't agree with you on this," he said darkly.
Aves rolled her eyes. "There's nothing to disagree on yet." She looked off to her right at a couple of younger crew, nervously watching the horizon along. The whole camp seemed to be on a tense hold. "Please let anyone with a tent know that fires aren't permitted out in the open tonight, and that anyone cooking needs to wrap it up fast," she instructed politely. The two nodded and set off to perform the task, not eager to incur the wrath of an apparently-temperamental Gary. Aves turned back to him. "We'll stay put tonight and see what happens in the morning. Maybe they need supplies. And we're here to trade. Not make enemies."
Gary opened his mouth to say something, then a shout pierced the air from the other side of the camp. "Look! Look!"
The entire crew, about 20, all quieted and watched as the desert came alive. What seemed like a thousand small flickers of light from their distance slowly careened high into the air, then down into the city more speedily, flames trailing behind ominously.
In all these years spent traveling together, they'd never before seen anything like this.
"Fires, NOW!" Aves barked as loud as she could. Half of the camp scrambled to put out any campfires that may have been flickering brightly enough for anyone in the valley to see and trace. She held her hand in the air as she began to look aroud to spot any other possible sign of their existence that could be seen from afar. They were obviously not the focus of this attack, but she wasn't about to take any chances. "Everyone stay calm. We're planting here for the night and making the decision on the next move in the morning."
Not even Gary said anything.
# # #
"Boy, the Council is going to be pissed about this," Gary ruffed as he handed mugs of coffee to both Aves and Clarissa. The camp was gathered together for breakfast, happy to finally make fires to cook warm food and brew coffee and tea after a long, cold night with the sounds of a terrible battle raging below their resting place. Hardly anyone slept, and no one was sorry to see the sun come up as they mingled about on lawn chairs or long benches. "Bakersfield is one of our best trading spots."
"Like they wouldn't take advantage of something that they think they can get control of," Aves reminded Gary sarcastically, nodding a thank-you as she took the handle of her mug. "That's just the way it is, you know."
Clarissa smiled at Gary and then stared into her mug nervously for several seconds, then look at Aves with a curious expression. "I wonder what Klaus is going to think about this." She shrugged her shoulders and blew some of the rising steam off of her hot beverage. "Or Giuseppe."
Aves bristled visibly, then relaxed. "I don't care what they think," she snipped quietly, then shook her head as she glanced toward the smoke rising from the destroyed city. She continued to stand tensely. "Do we know how it's going down there?"
"Couple scouts said they heard the city surrendered officially," Gary acknowledged as he set himself next to Clarissa and took a long sip of his coffee. "Didn't take all that long."
"It felt like forever," Clarissa chirped with a playfully-drawn expression on her face as she scooped her spoon through her oatmeal, kicking her boots up on a chair in front of her. "But, yeah, I timed it. Not even eight hours until it got real quiet."
"I heard also the Lord-Commander was heading into the streets," Gary added as he lifted a hand to the back of his head. "This wasn't just some argument over sheep. This was a deliberate engagement."
Aves nodded, her eyes bright, following along and imagining the possibilities in her head. There had to be a reason for them to be so far south. Her caravans had ventured farther north near Sacramento before, respectfully meandering along the supposed borders of their territory before being permitted inside to trade with those who lived there. She'd not been far into the territory or seen the city, but she understood it to be a masterpiece rivaling Las Vegas, with thoughtful architecture that exhibited an appreciation of historical aesthetic. It was a practice of hers to not allow their caravans too far into territories where force was known to be the rule of thumb. At least, not when they hadn't received the explicit invitation to. Aves held her warm mug in her cold hands as she paced toward the edge of the gathering, blinking outward at the view of the city in its aftermath. These invaders were truly a force in and of themselves, no doubt about it. Besides Las Vegas, this had been the largest city in the inland region that still held itself together decently enough. Bakersfield provided much of their business and had a strong supply of food; the agricultural tradition continued to thrive in the Central Valley, despite the lack of electricity. It was easy to lament the sudden state of flux regarding whether or not this crucial stop on their routes would be defunct or not. But, for now, they had to make the best of it. She stretched her shoulders and looked back at the caravan crew gathered. She wondered whether they'd be amenable to exchanging goods, especially medical supplies, with the victors. The need would certainly be strong, that was for certain. But would they go for it? There had to be some way.
And then it occurred to her.
She sighed and turned back around to the group. She finished her coffee as she walked back to Gary, Clarissa, and a few others. "We're going to exchange with the army," she asserted nonchalantly as she set herself into an empty lawn chair. Anyone within earshot immediately stopped talking and stared at her. "We've got business to do. If there's a problem, we'll turn back around."
"I don't like this," Gary immediately countered, his voice strained with impatience.
Aves nodded, then looked up at the sky in an effort to avoid making eye contact. "That's why I'll go ahead to speak with them first. Alone."
A pause.
"I can't let you do that, Aves," Gary stated finitely. "Klaus would have my head on a stick."
"You know that's not true." She got up from her chair and made for her tent. "If I'm not back in three days, head back without me."
"Goddammit. You're putting me in a bad spot, Beckett!" Gary retorted. Aves continued on, apparently unfazed. "I do not want to deal with the shit he's going to give me about this!" Still no response. "Do you want to get slaughtered like a pig?!"
Clarissa shot the fuming man a quick, darting glare, then rose from her chair and followed after the stubborn woman as other members of the camp stared on quietly. "Aves!" she called out as she walked quickly, not to seem rushed but not to look careless either, toward her tent. She opened the front flap and poked her scarf-covered head inside, and peered around until her eyes adjusted and she saw the younger woman on her knees on the floor, packing her trunk. "Can't we talk about this a little more?"
"No, Clar, we can't," Aves sighed tightly. "I'm doing this. You can't talk me out of it."
The taller woman knew when to hold her tongue after almost ten years of being close to the pint-sized, driven Aves. Or "Avey," as she affectionately called her. Or "Becks," as Giuseppe liked to say. Or "Mademoiselle," as Klaus liked to tease loudly in a high-pitched voice much to Aves' bemusement. Or, he used to do that. Not anymore. Not after the previous year. Clarissa had watched the feisty, sharp teenager grow into a composed, decisive woman, incapable of taking anyone else's shit yet perfectly capable of dishing it back. And over the years she'd watched her close herself off more and more. Especially after that previous year. "I guess this is a bad time to say that I'm worried about you."
Aves stopped, staring down at her hands as they nudged a couple of books around in the large wooden trunk. She must have intended for it to get loaded up on the wagon if she didn't come back. It was clear from the sudden look of recognition in her eyes that she knew exactly what was on Clarissa's mind. She reached her hands up, her wrap sleeves running along the varnish of the pretty exterior as she shut the lid of the trunk. She turned to Clarissa and nodded. "It is. We can talk about it later. Please. Just do what I say."
Clarissa knew when it was time to walk away. She'd always been good at reading people's moods. Perhaps not understanding them fully, but knowing when to just back off? This was one of those times. But not quite yet. She took a deep breath and bent down to the younger woman, extending her long arms to wrap around her in a loose, heartened embrace. "Take care of yourself."
Aves sat up straight and rigid for several seconds, but finally let go of her standoffishness as she reached up two small hands to hold onto Clarissa's forearms, and leaned her head into the crook of the woman's elbow. She sighed deeply. "You too."
# # #
Aves felt relieved when she could get away from the city, and even more relieved when she could get away from the camp.
She felt remorse for being so short with Clarissa, who had turned out to be the most reliable of any member of Las Vegas society since The Change occurred. To be on the way to Bakersfield to authorize trade with winning invaders was at once a bit of a silly thrill and formed a deadly pit in her stomach at the same time. She didn't need much; it wasn't like she took much on the road, anyhow. A small pack of clothes, a few skeins of water, and her guitar suited her just fine.
Ten years prior, Aves would have never pictured herself as living in a desert. She'd hoped for something else entirely. Not the D.C.-bound life her family had constantly envisioned for her. In her 19-year old naïveté she pictured herself as a musician in routine daydreaming. That much had come true. She didn't feel as though she'd been much of one before The Change, but now it felt to her as though that Martin stuck to her back felt like another arm, an extension of her being. Why bother with words when there was music, instead? Not that she didn't feel like her other instruments back at the camp or back home in Las Vegas weren't worthwhile or useful--but the Martin certainly was.
An outpost up ahead. Aves adjusted the brown cowl around her hair and adjusted her dark face mask, the Las Vegas emblem crudely stitched in worn red thread on the front of it. No use in hiding her identity. If fate wanted to send her to heaven, hell, or down somesuch mythological river, or up in the clouds, or to just see her dead in the desert with no destination for an evaporating spirit, then it would choose to do so. That pang of remorse again. Clarissa's face popped into her mind again, as though telling her to turn back. To reconsider. And it was only right to think those thoughts. Riding to the city was dangerous. Not only that, but potentially suicidal.
But trade wasn't the top priority. Not at all.
Her conscience tried to intervene, suddenly forcing herself to ask herself again if this was worth it. If it would work. She pursed her lip concentratedly and reminded herself that her actions would have consequences, no matter what.
Consequences.
And then it struck her like a bolt of lightning.
I am the consequence of others' actions.
She rode onward.