Sporemageddon - V1 Chapter 25.2

Black Mould – Twenty-Five – Questions Under Duress

Debra looked between the two of us, then cleared her throat. “Well, I’m going to be off. You two have fun.”

“Thanks, Debra,” I said. I flashed her a quick grin. No point in antagonising one of my friends. Besides, this was something of a favour. I turned my attention back towards Eight-Three-Eleven. I thought my own lack of a real name was weird, but here was someone whose name was just a few numbers. “So, uh,” I began.

I could only see Eight-Three-Eleven’s eyes, but I had the impression she was smiling. “Debra asked me to check on you. She said you were a helpful kid, doing your part to keep the people around here fed.”

That wasn’t entirely true. I was keeping most of the produce I made for myself. I wasn’t about to shoot myself in the foot, though. “I do what I can,” I said.

“Cool. So, what’s your name?” she asked.

“Don’t have one,” I replied. “What about yours? Is it really Eight-Three-Eleven?”

“That’s my name,” she confirmed with a nod.

I frowned. “It’s not Eight Thousand Three Hundred and Eleven?”

She shrugged. “It could be. You could also call me Eight-Three-One-One, but I like Eight-Three-Eleven best.” The girl looked past me, which wasn’t hard. She was… I was going to guess maybe thirteen, fourteen years old? She was a good two heads taller than me, so I couldn’t exactly stop her from looking into my farm. “Is this where you work?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I grow mushrooms. For eating.”

“And for killing,” she said.

“What?” I asked.

Her attention dropped down to me. “You know, two of them died.”

“Two of whom?” I asked.

“The Undercity Gremlins. Was that their name? I know that they came here and paid you a visit.”

I could feel my heart thundering in my chest. Could I take her? She was taller, probably in better shape. But she was just one girl. I had a knife still. I licked my lips. Talking first. Stabbing the wandering priest lady second. “They weren’t very nice,” I said. “They came here, shoved me around, stole some of my stock. Set me back a few weeks.”

“So you poisoned them?” she asked.

“They poisoned themselves,” I said. “It’s not my fault that they ate everything they stole without seeing what the consequences of eating some of those mushrooms would be. Did they really die?”

Eight-Three-Eleven eyed me for a while. “I was supposed to come here a week ago. But I hesitated. I didn’t know what to do, exactly. Killing people is… well, it’s certainly illegal, if nothing else. So I asked my mentor what to do.”

“Is their name Eight-Three-Ten?” I asked.

Her eyes crinkled at the corners again. “No. It’s Five-Oh-One-One. He’s been my mentor for years now. He’s very wise and is a respected acolyte of Galen. He told me that sometimes, to bring the greatest mercy, you need to truly know what is happening. That means doing some research. So I asked around. Turns out that the Undercity Gremlins have been causing a lot of trouble for a lot of people around here.”

I crossed my arms. “What do you want from me?”

“Just to talk,” Eight-Three-Eleven said. “You know what happened to the two that died?”

“I can guess,” I said. “I ate some of the same mushrooms as they did. I know what they do to you.”

“You’re not dead,” she pointed out.

I rolled my eyes. “I ate a lot less, obviously. And it was a close call.”

“So you didn’t know that what they’d eaten was poison?”

I shrugged. “Who knows? They stole the mushrooms after breaking into my place. You worship the god of… mercy or something, right?”

“Galen, yes,” she said. “It’s more complex than just that, but essentially he’s the god of mercy.”

“Is there a god of ironic deaths?”

Eight-Three-Eleven laughed, head tilting back and shoulders shaking. “No, I don’t think there is,” she said. Some of the tension left us, and I felt myself chuckling along with her, though really it wasn’t that funny. “The two that died? They came to our temple near the Gutter. Asked for Galen’s mercy. I… well, anyway. I wanted to know what caused it all, so I started digging. You get a lot of freedom as an acolyte of Galen, though you’re kept pretty busy too.”

“And, what are your conclusions?”

“They deserved it,” she said. “Maybe they could have changed and become better people. But in the end, they received Galen’s mercy and that’s all that matters.”

“What’s Galen’s mercy?” I asked.

She tilted her head. “I guess you’re a bit young to know. How old are you?”

“Four,” I said.

She nodded. “Galen’s mercy is… when someone can’t go on anymore. Sometimes they’re in too much pain, sometimes it’s emotional. Sometimes they’re just too old to keep on going. They can ask for Galen’s mercy, and an acolyte will give it to them. It’s considered an honourable way to go. No matter the crimes and sins committed in life, those who ask for Galen’s mercy are given a peaceful, polite repose.”

I nodded along. “What about the rest?”

“The rest?”

“Of that gang of thugs. The Gremlins.”

Eight-Three-Eleven shrugged. “I don’t know. I imagine they won’t be too pleased with you. But then, the Gremlins aren’t a big group. The two that died were important, I suppose. It’s possible another, bigger group will swallow them up.”

“And in the meantime, I still need to worry about being attacked,” I said. “Nothing changed, really. Except now I know that when they come for me next time, it’ll be with the deaths of their friends justifying their own actions.”

The acolyte scowled. “I… hadn’t thought of that, actually.”

“How did you know that they were poisoned here?” I asked.

“I… asked them a few questions, before they received Galen’s mercy. We give those taking the mercy some medicine, made from poppy and… well, nevermind that. It makes people more lucid, removes any lingering pain.”

So some sort of opiate, I guessed. Morphine, or something like fentanyl or heroin. They were all more or less similar. I wasn’t sure about the lucidity part, but then, I wasn’t a pharmacist, and they might have been mixing that with other medications. “I appreciate the warning,” I said. “If that’s all you came here for, then… well, I have a lot of work to do.”

“What kind of work?” Eight-Three-Eleven asked.

I gestured behind me to the farm. “I’m still fixing some of the damage. And I’m trying to grow more and better food. This place doesn’t have enough food for everyone. At least, not food that’s inexpensive enough for everyone to afford.”

Eight-Three-Eleven stared. “Okay,” she said.

“Okay?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yes. How can I help?”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“How can I assist you? What can I do to help you feed the people here?”

“Why would you help?” I asked.

“Because I’m an acolyte of Galen. Part of my duties are to travel across the city and provide help to those who need it. You’re right, there isn’t enough food to go around. I doubt you’ll be able to grow enough to make a big difference, but a small difference is no less worthy for being small. That’s what my mentor always says. So how can I help?”

“A minute ago you were accusing me of murder,” I pointed out.

She nodded. “Yes. And I’m increasingly convinced that you did it on purpose.”

“And now you want to help?”

“Yes.” She laughed. “You really don’t know much about Galen.”

“I don’t know anything about him,” I said truthfully.

“Well, maybe I can teach you a little then, as a favour for helping. In exchange… well, I often have to help families who just don’t have enough food to go around. I don’t think I can feed them with just mushrooms, but every bit helps.”

“You’re strange,” I said.

She nodded. “Maybe. We’re… optimistically pragmatic. We help to be helped. Mercy is mercy, regardless of the source.”

“So what, you’ll help anyone as long as they help others?”

“Murderers, extortionists, even some people who are outright cruel,” she said. “We’ll help them if they display mercy for others. Personally, I’d rather help those who are kind for the sake of kindness, but I haven’t found many of those around.”

I worked my jaw as I thought. Did I trust this weirdo? No. Not as far as I could throw her, and I couldn’t even lift her without breaking my arms. Did I need help? Probably. She seemed well-connected, at least.

“Okay,” I said. I raised an arm to shake. “It’s a deal.”

She laughed again. “Wrong god, but I’ll accept.”

We shook.

“Now, how can I help?”

“Do you know how to garden?” I asked.

“Nope.”

“In that case… I need places to grow more mushrooms, and I need to know more about the Gremlins, and the rest of the city too. You can even preach a little if you want.” That usually got the religious type all excited. Judging by the glimmer in her eyes, that was a bullseye.

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