Heaven's Not Enough

Part II

Chapter 1 – December 10th, 2018

Apex was dreaming.

She knew she was dreaming because she'd been there before, in that same spot, countless times. She looked down at her hooves. They were muddy. That detail was always there, every time she had this dream. She would always start out muddy.

She never stood alone when she found herself at the bottom of the mountain. Sugar Song was beside her. Apex looked up the mountainside, and saw that she had a difficult climb up a long, winding switchback. Her goal was at the top. She began to climb.

“Apex?” Her sister asked. “Where are you going?”

“Up,” Apex replied.

Sugar Song tweaked an ear. She was confused. “Why? There's nothing up there.”

“It's where I need to be,” Apex said simply, as if that would close the issue.

Sugar Song nodded in understanding, and kept pace with her sister. “I'll go with you, then.”

Apex had to see the summit's view before her dream ended. She just had to. She had to. She had to. She had…

December 10, 2018.
Snoqualmie National Forest, Washington.

Eight figures made their way through the woods. It was a clear winter morning, devoid of snow.

Six walked in a formation. Most of them were uniformed, armed with rifles. Four officers wore the emblem of the Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife. Two wore the uniform of the US Forest Service. Two wore civilian cold weather clothes, and were unarmed; they trailed behind.

Eliza Douglas walked near the center and slightly forward, on point. She wore the patch of Fish & Wildlife on her shoulder, and had a black ballcap on her head. Her black hair was tied back in a ponytail, which she had tucked into her shirt collar. Her rifle rested lightly in her hands. Her keen eyes were locked onto the ground and the surrounding foliage. She tracked.

The group waded through an abnormal sea of small, waist-high bushes. There was too much undergrowth, a consequence of diminished cervid populations. Fewer grazers meant more shrubs and trees.

Eliza knew the surrounding general region well enough, but the vast swathes of shrubs and saplings made navigation difficult and obscured the contours of the surrounding hills. Thankfully, she had a GPS.

Eliza motioned the unit to halt. She drew the GPS unit from her coat, and crouched to compare their position on the map in relation to their target location. The unit spread out and scanned, rifles at the ready, and the two civilians – ecologists – crouched low, to hide in the undergrowth. Eliza scanned the hills carefully, and determined their position. They were almost right where they needed to be.

The group remained silent. She glanced back at Rick, her sergeant, who pointed to his watch. Eliza held up three fingers to indicate three minutes, and pointed in the direction of where the GPS signal was coming from. Rick ordered the unit to spread out with a hand signal, and motioned to the scientists to stay low and stay put.

Poachers had become exceedingly organized, and had been shooting at park rangers and wardens more frequently. A unit like theirs was a juicy target. The team swept outward and away from each other. Eliza unslung her rifle and joined her three fellow officers. The park rangers stayed to protect the doctor and his assistant.

A helicopter had made a pass shortly before their visit and scanned the forest with a thermal detection camera. “Not one heat sig' bigger than a squirrel on your path to the target,” the pilot had said. “Looks like the forest is yours, Sam One.”

Still, the team still left nothing to chance. They couldn't risk running into anyone there without the necessary precautions. Their target wasn't too far ahead now, perhaps forty yards at most. Eliza kept low, and scanned left and right. Her fellow officers joined her at a wide spread.

The area was clear all the way to the target. Eliza couldn't see the objective beneath the brush, but she spared a quick final glance to her GPS. She noticed disturbed foliage up ahead. Up she crept toward it, and she suddenly heard the sound of hundreds of flies. She slung her old rifle on her back as she scanned the ground. A putrid, familiar stench struck her nose, and her nostrils flared. Very close now. The foliage was brown with old blood.

Her eyes sought any tracks in the mud, and she saw a line of bootprints leading away from the target. No visible traps. That was good.

Eliza could see a corpse before her, and bootprints were stamped into the mud around it. It was a deer, a young doe. The pelt had been stripped for its exceptionally high black market value.

It looked like the poacher had then desecrated the corpse by drawing a knife across the flank several times, tearing it to ribbons with reckless abandon. She gagged from the rotting smell, and threw a hand signal back to tell her unit that she found the target. The GPS tracking collar rested in a ziplock bag on the large flank of the animal, and the collar was wrapped with a note. She could read it through the bag, in some nearly illegible scrawl.

”you pigs are next”

She scowled as she swept the distance with her eyes for an ambush. She muttered under her breath. “Fuckin’ animals...” She looked sadly at the desecrated deer. This wasn't hunting. She heard someone snap their fingers quietly behind her, and Eliza looked over her shoulder at Sergeant Cornwallis. He sneered at the sight of the deer, his mustache raising in disgust, then he motioned her back, away from the deer. She followed the order and rejoined the unit for a perimeter sweep, and to search for more evidence. Sarge was already taking photos of the scene.

Time to call it in.

Eliza helped Warden Blake search the perimeter. Warden Mike Rivas prodded the deer corpse using a small remote controlled robot, something he had pulled out of his backpack. When Eliza returned to the corpse from a full round of the surrounding hillsides, she peered over Mike's shoulder at the tablet he used to control the robot. She watched its guide arm poke around the folds of flesh. "What's the word, Mike?"

He drew the robot back. "All done. Nothing dangerous. It's safe."

A year ago, such a measure would be seen as ridiculous, but nothing was left to chance anymore. It could be boobytrapped. With the kind of money the pelts brought in, it wouldn't be the first time it's happened.

They got to work. Eliza slipped on examination gloves, kneeling beside the corpse to investigate. The park rangers took photos of the dead animal, and the surrounding scene as well. Eliza noted aloud for everyone that the shot passed clean through the skull. Whoever killed the animal was either an excellent shot, or very lucky. In either case, the poacher wanted the pelt intact. More value.

Dr. Marvin, a professor from University of Washington, donned a pair of nitrile gloves as he impatiently waited for permission. As soon as the officers concluded their safety scans and criminal investigation, the park rangers gave the ecologists the go ahead to get started.

The scientist descended upon the corpse like a vulture. He rattled off anatomical observations, and his assistant hurriedly jotted down notes. From time to time, the assistant would interject his own observations. Eliza understood most of it.

“I need the stomach, Dave,” grumbled Dr. Marvin, to his assistant. “Hold that side up. No, right there. There.”

Dave did as he asked, and Eliza watched as the doctor harvested the deer's gastrointestinal tract with a scalpel. There were maggots everywhere. At least something in these woods is still thriving, Eliza thought morbidly. “Think their eating habits have changed at all?” she asked.

The doctor was too transfixed to respond. His assistant answered for him. “It's possible. With a food surplus like this, they might be more selective about what plants they eat. We'll know by tomorrow, hopefully.”

Eliza stopped watching the gruesome gutting. As a hunter, she wasn't necessarily disgusted with blood and gore, but the wantonly ravaged state of the animal infuriated her. She began another perimeter patrol to cool her head, and waved to Mike as she went. A few minutes later, she found some hoofprints in the dirt about a hundred yards away. She went back to the doctor.

“Dr. Marvin?”

The professor didn't look at her as he scooped the deer's stomach into a specimen container. “A little busy, officer. What's wrong?”

“Sir, I'm wondering about something. Your briefing said she had two others in her herd when you applied the tracking collar. I can track her back where she came from, a ways, I think. The trail is a few days old, but it might be enough to find something.”

“Oh,” the doctor said, with a grimace. “Y'don't need me for that, but I'd be happy to know what you find though. Sure.”

“I'll check with my sergeant. If you don't hear from me for a few, I'm probably on my way.”

The doctor nodded, and then looked back at her with an afterthought. “Oh, officer, um...?”

“Douglas, sir.”

“Douglas, yes. On second thought, uh, David should go with you. If you find another doe, he'll tell you what I need.”

"Got it." Eliza looked at David. He was a scrawny student. She nodded at him. “Grab your stuff, Dave. We're going for a hike.”

“Okay,” he said, gathering his backpack and a small bucket. “You sure your boss will give you the go?”

She nodded. “Pretty sure.” She approached Sarge.

A minute later, Eliza was on the northward path like a bloodhound. One of the park rangers accompanied Eliza and David. Mike followed far behind. Eliza noted that the tracks were degraded considerably, but to her expert eye, they were still readable. Eliza considered herself lucky that it hadn't rained in the last few days.

The group then traveled half a kilometer, mostly in silence. Eliza kept her Garand drawn this time, finger hovering just outside of the trigger guard. She was on alert, using her ears as much as her eyes.

David adjusted his rucksack as he matched stride with Eliza, and eyed the rifle curiously. “So uh. That looks more like a sniper rifle than a cop gun. They let you carry your own gun?”

"Couple years ago, they probably wouldn't. Ammo's at a premium now though. I buy my own."

She noticed him looking the rifle over. Doubtless, from his expression, he must have noticed the word carved just above the trigger guard on the right side of the wood stock. “What's that mean, the word on the side? Apex? Like, for the trophic classification?”

Eliza's expression soured, frustration brought on by his prying. There was nothing she wanted to discuss less than the engraving right now. She looked away and swept the distance for poachers.

David backed off. “Oh... uh, sorry.”

“Don't mention it. Keep your eyes peeled, and stay quiet. Please,” she added, as a regretful afterthought. She saw no reason to be harsh on the kid. She chided herself for thinking of him as a kid, though. She was fairly young herself, only a mere twenty-four. He might've been older than Eliza, for all she knew.

Three hundred yards more, and yet, the doe's trail remained solitary. Perhaps the victim doe was lost, or perhaps its herd had been poached already. It was a national park, which is why the rangers were there, but that didn't account for much protection anymore. The only way to protect the animals was to put them in captivity, and the various ecological services around the country had been doing just that. Everyone was preparing for the end of their life cycle.

She wondered if the increased undergrowth would lead to more forest fires near her homeland. So far, they'd been lucky. But the forest services were dealing with a true ecological disaster, one that ecologists had feared would happen for decades. When the fires came, the woods would truly become inhospitable. It was only a matter of time.

Eliza stopped, then swept her gaze left, then right, searching stubbornly for parallel tracks. The park ranger with them was doing the same. The ranger was a gruff, stout man who showed signs of feeling just as frustrated as Eliza. She shot him a look of sympathy, and they nodded to one another.

“This sucks,” he said.

"Almost a full klick," Eliza replied, as she referenced the GPS to confirm. "We can go further though."

"We could," said Mike, as he caught up. "Rick's gonna want us back pronto, though."

"Yeah..." She shook her head, and craned her neck to look at the forest canopy above. "God, this is pissing me off. This thing was alone. Maybe the last of its herd."

"I dunno how we'll manage the population," Mike grumbled.

Eliza sighed. “I don't think we're doing enough, Mike. We need more support, more wardens. These fucking poachers," she spat. "One step ahead every time."

The ranger said suddenly, from behind her, "got some good news."

Eliza and Mike spun.

"What is it?" Mike asked.

"Wolf tracks." He pointed to the ground. "Big ol' paws, not a yote. I'll be damned, wolves this far west? Desperate for food, probably. Looks parallel to the deer tracks, but it veers off this way."

Eliza pushed a sapling aside and looked. Sure thing, those were big enough to be wolf tracks, and not a coyote’s. “Woah. Nice find. Fresh too, by the look of it.” Eliza smiled at the first good news of the day. “Dave, want to follow?”

David hobbled over with his overburdened rucksack. “It'd be good to see what shape it's in if it's alive. And if not...” He tapped his bag for emphasis, and the specimen bucket rattled.

Eliza nodded, her smile fading. “Yeah, good idea. I'll call it in.” She grabbed her lapel mic and checked her GPS. “Sam One, Whiskey 4-2.”

“Go ahead Whiskey, send traffic,” Rick replied.

“Found some fresh lupine tracks, due north-by-northwest of your position by point-eight klicks. Permission to investigate?”

“Copy. Standby,” the radio crackled in her earpiece. Eliza imagined Cornwallis was asking Dr. Marvin about it, so she waited patiently. The sergeant called back in a minute. “Granted, Whiskey 4-2. You're clear for half a klick only. We're clear down here soon. If you don't find anything, we need you back ASAP.”

“10-4, Sam One. Clear for half a klick more, copy.”

Eliza gave a thumbs up to Mike and the ranger, and the group started down the wolf tracks. They occasionally went left, then right again. It was directionless movement, and Eliza frowned. Wolves didn’t normally move like that.

They didn't need to go far. A minute later, they were staring at a dead wolf. Emaciated, not breathing. It had died recently, but showed no signs of external damage. Its coat was beautiful, Eliza noted, clean and gray. The fact that the animal still had a coat was very telling: no one killed it. It died on its own. Starvation, perhaps.

Eliza confirmed the animal was dead. Its gums were blue, was cold to the touch, and was devoid of a pulse in its foreleg. She gave David the go ahead to start his work. The ecologist-in-training drew a knife, and he rubbed his face with an elbow. He looked rather out of sorts.

“I need, uh... I need the stomach. Esophagus. Guts too. As much of the GI tract as possible, rectum included. And some teeth. We need to analyze the diet. I uh... I don't know where to start.” He looked up at Eliza with an embarrassed frown.

She sighed, and keyed her radio's lapel mic. “Sam One, Whiskey 4-2. We've located the animal. Looks dead, recent. Investigating now. I have a request for Delta.” Delta was Dr. Marvin's callsign.

“Copy Whiskey. You need assistance?”

Eliza idly scanned for any oddities in the forest beyond. “Negative. Requesting permission to assist in the harvest.”

“Standby.” Another long pause, another minute at least. “Request granted, Whiskey 4-2. But Delta insists you be as generous as possible.”

“Copy that. He can trust me.” She released the radio piece.

David tilted his head. “Generous? What's that mean?”

Mike smiled without a trace of joy. “It means she's doing the whole cut. Doctor's orders.”

“Jesus,” the ranger scoffed.

Eliza shrugged. “I know what I'm doing.”

“No, I mean. It's gonna get on your uniform,” the ranger said.

“That's better than the alternative,” Eliza said. “Because I’m not lugging this whole wolf back to the truck.”

David took off his bag. “Oh! Uh, I have isolation gowns.” He dug into the bag and passed a yellow gown to Eliza, and then handed her his knife. “I'm sorry, officer. I'd do it, but... I mean, I've watched Dr. Marvin do it. But I'm afraid... I'm afraid I'll damage the sample.”

“I'll do it all, don't worry,” Eliza said, with a touch of sympathy. “But if you're serious about working in this field, you'd better get used to getting your hands dirty. It's a dirty job.” She glanced at the knife's edge. Visibly dull, worn down. Useless. She handed the knife back, and put on the gown. She drew her own knife, then began her grim harvest.

The search party was happy to be back at their two SUVs, which were parked on a dirt road adjacent to the national park. Eliza held her Garand vertically, engaged the safety, and slipped into the front passenger seat, her rifle between her knees. She gave the GPS tracker back to Dr. Marvin, who sat behind her. The park ranger was outside, packing his gear into the back hatch.

The doctor started asking Eliza a battery of questions regarding her education.

“Studied around a few topics to get my feet wet. Signed up for Parks Law Enforcement Academy as soon as I was old enough."

"In Mount Vernon? I figured as much." Dr. Marvin nodded. “They have an excellent focus on forestry. I've met quite a few rangers from that program.”

"Me," said the ranger somberly, raising his hand. They all shared a small, albeit grim chuckle. The whole career field now seemed to be going up in smoke; everyone knew that, but no one seemed to say it, only imply it in tone.

“Yeah," Eliza said, in answer. "I had pretty good connections, truth be told. My mom works at a dam, she knew Lieutenant Horace from their hatchery work, stocking the lake with sockeye.”

“That's how it usually goes. A connection like that goes a long way. You hunted?"

“Used to,” she said grimly, as the stout park ranger hopped into the driver seat and started the vehicle. They began their ride back to civilization. “My dad taught me when I was little.” She tapped her Garand. “With this very rifle, actually.”

“When did you stop?”

Eliza shrugged. “Around the time I started college full time. Didn't have the time anymore. By the time I finished my first degree, the government removed the requirement for hunting tags, thinking the population was sky high. People started killing in droves, you know the rest. I didn't want to be a part of that, so I just stopped hunting.”

The doctor grunted. “I petitioned the state government to delay the decision to remove the bag limits. It was a dangerous and irresponsible bill.”

“They didn't even consult Fish and Wildlife,” Eliza recalled.

“Then they went through with it anyway. I was livid. No actual field research went into the decision, as far as I know. They certainly didn't use any of mine. It was complete madness and chaos, and nearly every other state fell in line within the month. The government made this problem happen, and now it's too far gone. These poachers...” He shook his head and frowned.

“As I understand it,” Eliza said, “the population was only reported as elevated. Did your department see anything that supported that?”

“Not scientifically,” Marvin said. “Our field measures were consistent with historical trends. I tried to tell them! I tried to tell the boards and committees and the politicians, but no one wants to listen to an expert. Many of my university colleagues tend to agree. I must have spent hundreds of hours giving speeches no one wanted to listen to. But by the time anyone realized it was going to be this bad, it was much too late.”

“Mmh.” Eliza nodded once. “I listened, though. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry to have been part of the problem.”

“Did you ever sell any pelts?”

“No sir, of course not.”

“Shoot any deer after the bill?”

“Never. What are you getting at?”

“Nothing, Officer Douglas, except that you weren't part of the problem. I have nothing against an honest hunter.”

“Yeah. No such thing anymore, though.” They sat in silence for a while, and just watched the road. Eliza had a sudden thought. “Doctor, do you know anything about the buyers?”

The doctor shook his head. “Nothing, I'm afraid. Not my specialty. All I know is that they buy more than just cervid pelts. Wolves, coyotes, bears, rabbits. Some birds, in fact. Everything has its price, and the price keeps rising.”

“And the trails are cold,” she sighed, her frustration showing. “Tracking the buyers is like hunting ghosts. It's one hell of an organized op.”

“A pain in the ass is more like it,” Dr. Marvin growled. “Do we know what they even do with the pelts?”

Eliza shrugged. “Beats me.”

Dr. Marvin turned away for a moment, seemingly in deep thought. He grunted, and turned back toward Eliza. “Listen... for what it's worth, your department is doing a good job. If you ever feel like you're not doing enough, just remember: it's more than most are doing.”

“That means a lot, doctor. I really want this sorted, bad. I want to hunt again some time before I turn forty, you know?"

Dr. Marvin smiled. “Now there's some good motivation.”

Much later that evening, Eliza shambled into her station's tiny locker room, already starting to strip her radio from her kevlar carrier. Her ballcap came off next, and she undid her ponytail. She loosed the velcro straps of her vest and tossed it into the corner near her locker. When she sat on the bench, she hung her head and sighed. Her black hair fell free, and her hand rubbed the back of her sore neck.

It was the longest sixteen hour shift of Eliza's career so far. After getting back from the escort run, her team spent the rest of the day raiding the home of a man who was breeding jackrabbits in his garage. The day evaporated while they confiscated contraband traps, documented everything, seized miscellaneous evidence, and wrote endless reports. Eliza had been the one to actually handcuff the man, a meth dealer who had countless priors. He had spit on her and called her all sorts of names. She'd heard it all before. She wrapped his face in a spit hood and tacked on a battery charge for the trouble.

In her moment of privacy, she sat. She answered to no one, thought of nothing. Closed her eyes. Escaped.

After resting, she stood, stretched, and started putting away her equipment. She drew a bag of toiletries from her locker, and walked out of the room. She found Mike sitting there in the break room, reading a newspaper. He looked up at her, and she placed her bag of soaps on the table.

“Staying here again tonight?” Mike asked.

“Yeah,” Eliza said. "Might as well, I work early tomorrow anyway." She glanced at the newspaper, and a line caught her eye. She almost didn't believe it when she saw it.

“... making digital emigration legal in all fifty United States, beginning January 1, 2019.”

Eliza's head shook in bewildered disbelief, pointing at it. “Wait, what? Th—that passed?”

“Huh?" Mike turned the newspaper over. “Oh. Yeah, the PON-E Act. People uploading their minds, y'know. It's legal for everyone soon. The AI gave that speech at Congress, and—“

“That speech was a few days ago,” Eliza said coldly. “Less than a week! How'd it get through that fast?"

Mike shrugged. “Topeka caused a bit of a mess, I guess. I mean, heck, I don't mind people uploading if it's their choice."

"Doesn't it bug you a little bit, Mike? With how it..." she trailed off.

He lowered the paper some, focused now. "With how it...?"

"The moment the cell closes on one of our arrests,” she said, “they're begging to get put on the waiting list. All they gotta do is plead guilty. You don't see anything wrong with that?"

"What, you think they're escaping punishment?"

“Not much of an escape if they're dead,” Eliza growled. At Mike's look of concern, she felt seen, so she explained. “My... my sister went and did it a couple of years ago. Just up and left us. She's dead now, as far as I'm concerned."

Mike grimaced. “Jesus, Douglas.”

“What?”

“It's just, I'm sorry. Damn. I just didn't know you felt that strongly about it. Or about anything but conservation, really. Unless you're talking about the job, you're always so quiet."

"There's not much reason to talk about it. Besides, work keeps me focused. I'm doing good work here, I'm needed. This isn't the sort of work where we'll run into Equestria Online anyway.”

“Not for long," Mike said, as he tapped the newspaper. “After this, expect protests. And after Europe, and Brazil, I don't doubt we'll end up supporting a riot line at some point."

Her eyes found the newspaper again. “I...”

"...making digital emigration legal..."

She just closed her eyes and rubbed her temples with a hand.

“You okay?” Mike asked, with concern.

“Yeah,” she said, as she gathered her bag. She stood. “Just tired. I need a shower.”

“Come on, Douglas. If you lost your sister to this..."

She looked up at him, unable to keep pain and pleading out of her expression.

He eyed her carefully, and apparently decided not to dig any deeper, for which she was incredibly grateful. "You know," Mike said, "if you need some time off... Horace wouldn't need to know why. You know I'll be more than happy to cover your extra shifts on my days off, Sarge would too."

She exhaled slowly, nodding a little. "I'll... think about it."

"Alright," he said, as he folded up his newspaper. "Let me know tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah. Thank you. Seriously."

"Hey we're a team. I hope you feel better, Douglas. I'm uh... I'm gonna head home. Stay safe.” He held out his fist.

Eliza bumped it with hers. “Yeah. Take care, Mike. Tell Sandra I said hey.”

"Yep."

She made her way to the shower room and prepared for her shower as if nothing was wrong. Turned the lights off, so she could be alone in her thoughts, with no other stimulus but the heat and the white noise. Clothes off. Water on. Go through the motions. She told herself she would stay strong.

She had the words stuck in her head like a bad song. Emigration's legal. It just didn't immediately take. She refused to let it. Shook her head. Refused it. The shower cooked her in steam and heat. She felt safe and secure, where her mind could wander elsewhere. She wanted her peaceful ignorance to last forever. But Eliza's mind grasped at the words, even as she begged it not to.

Emigration's legal.

Among the haze of uncertainty, she finally recalled the full line from her glance at the newspaper. “... making digital emigration legal in all fifty United States, beginning January 1, 2019.”

Emigration's legal.

“Oh God,” she whispered. “Tom...”

Before she knew it, Eliza's shoulder met the tile wall. She could feel her warm hair on her shoulder, cushioning the landing, and she began to slide down as her knees gave way. She met the floor. Eliza gaped, gasped, and stared into the tile of the wall. She righted herself. She slumped against the wall, and hugged her knees.

She promised herself for two whole years that she wouldn’t cry, not at work. She fought against it with all of her might, but...

Eliza looked at the clock as she left the shower room. She had spent forty-five minutes inside, and it was almost 1 AM. She was alone. She walked up to the break room table, and pulled her phone from her pocket. She figured she might as well read up on the news and get a blast of reality.

She got it. As soon as the phone fully powered up, it buzzed rabidly. She looked at the screen. 12 text messages, 8 missed calls, all from her dad. Her heart and stomach dropped like a rock and her thoughts flew immediately to her little brother. Before Eliza could call her father, her phone began to ring. It was Rob calling again.

She answered. “Dad?”

“Eliza, there you are... finally.” His voice shook.

“Dad, what's wrong?”

“Did you see my messages?”

“No, I just turned my phone on. What's going on?”

“It's about Tom, I had a fight with him. He—he left. Someone came and picked him up. We don't know where he is! We don't know where he went, Eliza!” He was loud and frantic.

“Dad, please don't panic! Don't go anywhere. Don't call him anymore. I'm on my way. I'll find him, I promise.”

Eliza hung up. She went to her locker, packed her backpack and rifle bag, and took off at a brisk walk to her truck. Her fatigue was forgotten.

Eliza decided not to call Tom more than once, and didn't expect him to answer right away anyway. But on her drive home, she dialed George. Her ex-fiance had a habit of lending Tom a ponypad in the past, so he was a likely suspect. But George didn't answer his phone either.

Screw it, she thought. She was close anyway. She stopped off at George's apartment in Sedro-Woolley and pulled in behind George's truck. She walked past her flowerbed right up to the door, and knocked. A minute later, George pulled the door open and glowered at Eliza. He wore full body thermal underwear and a grimace as he rubbed his eyes.

“Calling me at one AM? Really? What is it, Eliza? Apologizing? You grow a conscience in the dead of night?”

“George, please, have you seen Tom?”

He glared at her. “Really? That's what you want to talk about? Not Gale?”

Eliza frowned. “Please, I don't want to fight. George, listen to me. Dad and Tom had an argument. Tom disappeared, I need to know if he's here.”

“He's not,” George growled. “And if the next words out of your mouth aren't I'm sorry, then you can just save us an argument and leave.”

Eliza stared at him in disbelief. “What's your problem? Do you even hear me? Tom is missing.”

“He's not missing, Liz.” George leaned on the doorframe. “He's escaping. Think about it for one second. An argument with your dad? That's already not making sense. It's never an argument. Your family shuts Tom down. Honestly? I'm proud of the kid. He's finally standing up for himself. He’s not rolling over. It’s something you never learned how to do.”

Eliza felt her anger rise to a boil. Her ears felt hot in the cold night air, and she stood up straighter as her jaw went forward. Her eyes were cold. “Fuck. You. He's my little brother. I'm not looking for him for Dad. I'm looking for him because I love him.” The lump in her throat was back with a vengeance. She pressed on. “He's probably scared. He might do something...” She trailed off.

“What? Stupid? Is that what you were going to say? He isn't going to emigrate yet! Emigration isn't even legal until January. And if your family stopped hard-lining this anti-upload bullshit for half a second, you'd pick up a pad, say hi to Gale, and see it isn't that big a deal.”

“Not—not that big a deal? Excuse me? Remember when uploading got legalized in Europe? Do you think it'll be any better here? People are going to die. Riots always came next, and I'll be out there putting my life on the line when it happens.”

George scoffed, and looked at her in complete disbelief. “You work out in the backwoods. You're not going to risk your life in a rio—... heh, no, you know what? No. I'm done arguing with you. I don't owe you the time of day. You abandoned your sister, me, Luna. And Grand, howling, scratching at my door looking for you! I don't—“

Eliza looked horrified... then bristled, and talked over him, trying to drown him out. “You don't have the right to say shit about—“

“—know what happened to you, but I'm sure it had to do with your uncle—“

“—me abandoning anyone. I loved you, and you ditched me for a video game!“

“—fooling you into thinking Celestia is the devil!” He slammed the door in her face. “Tom isn't here, you upriver hick,” he shouted through the door. “I hope you don't find him. Oh, and I’m uploading too!”

Eliza flushed with rage at the slur. She started back to her truck, doing everything in her power not to have another outburst. She failed. The color drained from her face, and she looked at the flowers in her flower bed as her eyes stung. Without thinking, she kicked a patch of her flowers toward the door, and cursed. “Everything we did was for nothing, and I'm not the one who threw it away!”

Eliza returned to her truck shaking with anger.

She drove halfway back to Concrete before she pulled off to the side of the road near an intersection. She breathed deeply. Regret struck at her again and again and again. Her forehead landed on the steering wheel, and her knuckles turned bone white from the cold and her tight grip. “George,” she whispered. “I'm so sorry. I'm sorry... I know you didn't mean it.”

She didn't know whether that was true or not, but the thought was nice.

It took her several minutes to compose herself, and she checked her phone. She had no messages, but good signal. For the longest time, she just stared at Tom's name in her contact list. She decided to call her father instead. He picked up instantly.

“Liz? Did you find him?”

“No,” she whispered hoarsely. “A-are you still calling him?”

“I... I called him a few more times.”

“Dad, no. You need to stop. Right now. He won't talk to you. He's mad at you.”

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

Eliza drew a deep, quiet breath, tried to still her voice. “Stop calling him, Dad. And if Mom and Uncle Ralph are calling, make them stop too.”

“... okay, sweetheart. I'll tell them. Did you talk to Tom?”

"No. I'm about to, if he even answers.”

“Okay.”

Eliza hung up and dialed her brother. She looked idly at a random house in the distance. It was early morning, half past one AM, and the lights were still on. Snow began to fall as she waited. Eliza breathed deeply as the phone rang, trying to ignore the tightness in her sinuses. There was no answer. She called again. No answer. She sent a text.

“Tom, I told dad to leave you alone. Please talk to me.”

Eliza waited a few minutes, her eyes not leaving her phone the entire time. She stared at Tom's name in her list. “Please,” she pleaded. “Please God, please...”

Her phone rang, and she answered it in a heartbeat.

“Tom?” Her voice shook.

“Heya, sis...”

She hesitated for a moment. “Please, tell me what happened, Tom.”

He hesitated too. “Dad didn't tell you?”

“Not much.” She took in a deep breath, and let it out with a shudder. “Just that you had a fight?”

“Yeah...”

“Want to talk about it?” Her eyes clenched shut, and she desperately wanted to hear him say yes.

Tom paused again. “I don't know, Liz.”

“I'll just listen. I promise. I just... I just want to hear your voice.”

“I'm scared, Liz. I'm scared I'll never see you again! Or Mom and Dad! But I want to go.” He waited, probably wondering if Eliza would interrupt him. She forced herself not to. “I... I want to go to Equestria, sis. I don't know if you'll ever get a ponypad again. But I'm going.”

Eliza held her breath, clenched her eyes, and she shuddered as she desperately tried not to make a sound. It's just like Gale all over again, she thought. One more shot to make it right. One more shot to stop this.

Tom continued when she didn't immediately object. “I... I have a lot there. I want to see the shores of Equestria with my own eyes. I have so many more friends there than I do here on Earth. I'd have a good job, I'd be able to do all the things I love to do. Life would be so simple and quiet. I could live in my cottage like I do in the game, but for real. I'd get to see Gale every day. And I... I love East Circle. She's so good to me. I want to fly with her, Liz, for real. I want to live with her. I want to marry her.”

“Tom,” Eliza interrupted, blubbering, barely recognizing her own strained voice. “Gale is dead.”

“She isn't, sis. How could you say that? Please, please, just talk to her again. She really misses you. She asks about you all the time.”

“I don't... I don't know! I'm so scared of it! Ever since she left, I—I can't! I can't play it anymore!”

Tom sighed sadly. “You aren't alone, Liz. Please, you can talk with her with George. You'll see. Isn't George going to go too?”

She suppressed a wail. “George broke up with me a long time ago, Tom.”

“I know, sis, but he still talks like he has hope. You know he still loves you, right? He wouldn't really leave without you, would he? I’ll… I’ll talk to him.”

“Don't, Tom. He means it this time. We had another fight tonight. It's been over for a long time." She sighed, and slumped against her window and looked out at the small town, desperately hoping someone, anyone, would help her little brother reconsider.

“Liz, he said suddenly. “Come with me. Please. To the Experience Center, when it opens. I have a spare voucher. You'd be one of the first in line to upload, same as me.”

“What?”

“It wouldn't... it's not what you think it is, Liz. You know East is an immigrant? And Gale’s the same as she always was. She told me things she said might convince you she's really Gale. Like, things only you and her would know. She told me about... that song you two sang about the cat Uncle Ralph had, a long time ago. Buzz.”

“What?” Eliza tried to remember...

“Busy Buzzy, busy Buzzy, busy as a bee. Busy Buzzy, busy Buzzy, busy as can be.”

She remembered. “Tom.”

“And how Gale almost fell off of Devil's Tower, when you two went out there alone a long time ago? And you caught her arm, pulled her back up? Neither of you ever told anyone.”

“Tom, I—... please, stop...”

“Or that sculpture you made of Luna, out of an antler. The present you gave her for Christmas. And she said you brought her a turkey leg. She never told anyone else that even happened.”

“Tom! Please! Stop! I can't...” Her eyes stung again.

“It's really her, Liz! It is!”

“I c-cant... I'm... Tom, I'm begging you. Please don't leave us. We've lost so much. Gale hurt everyone so much. We don't want to lose you too. Please don't do this to us. Not again...”

Tom didn't say anything for a while. “How can I convince you to get another ponypad?”

“You can't.”

“Why?”

“You just can't! When Gale left, I just... I can't, anymore. I'm scared you'll sit in that chair and it will kill you, the real you, and replace you. I'm scared it destroys the soul. At the least, it’s destroying our family for sure. There's too much at stake, Tom. Too much to lose, not enough to gain! Don't do this to us. You know what happened last time... Mom and Dad can't lose another child."

The other end of the line was quiet.

“Tom?”

“I'm sorry, Liz. I wish you could understand. I'll... I'll miss you.”

That was it, the last straw. Eliza started to sob, and no longer cared if her brother heard. “Don't go, Tom! Please don't go. Please...!”

“I've made up my mind, Eliza. I love you. I promise I'll call you before I go. I'm so, so sorry, but I love East Circle too much to stay here. I just need to be with her...”

Eliza sniffled. “How do you know she isn't l-lying?”

“Who? East? About being an immigrant?”

“No. Celestia. How do you know this isn't some attempt to wipe people out? She's an AI, for Christ sake. Who knows what she wants... she can simulate anything. Anything! You only see what she wants you to see!”

“Liz, you promised me you wouldn't do this.”

“I...” She tried to focus on breathing. “I'm just so afraid. I can't just let you go without a fight! This is so wrong! You're not even eighteen yet!”

“It'll be okay, sis. I'll... I'll call you soon. I've got to go.”

“Wait! Who picked you up?”

“A friend from the game."

"Is it George?"

"You don't know him. I'm okay, Liz. He's my age, he's nice. I'll be with him for a while until we emigrate. I love you.”

Eliza worked her jaw a few times. Nothing came out but a choking gasp.

“Liz?”

“I... love you too, Tom. I love you. Please call me. Please. Call me often...”

“I will.” He hung up.

Eliza dropped her phone into her lap and sat in silence, listening to the strong wind as it pressed lightly against the truck. She rested her head on the steering wheel.

The only thing Eliza could feel was anger. Every ounce of scorn she showed George was meant for Celestia, but she had directed it on George instead. And now Tom was leaving, and there was nothing she could do about it except feel powerless. She bolted upright, pounded the sides of her steering wheel with her fists, and screamed.

But she could do nothing more.

Rob stood on the porch as she pulled into the driveway. She sulked out of her truck, and rubbed her eyes. Her father jogged to her as she stepped out.

“Where is he, Eliza?” He froze in place as he saw her expression and her bloodshot eyes.

Eliza motioned him inside without a word, and saw that June and Ralph were on the couch. Eliza told them everything about George and Tom, about how the two of them were determined to upload, and how they both asked Eliza to consider getting a ponypad. When Eliza told the family what Tom said about Gale, June broke down and cried on Rob's shoulder.

When she finished, Eliza sunk into the armchair and stared at the ceiling. Her mother was asking her something, but she couldn't hear it. She was so, so tired. Tired from work, tired of hearing about Equestria, tired of losing her family. There was nothing left in her but a lingering anger.

“Celestia,” she whispered weakly.

“What?” her father asked.

“The riots in Europe. That terrorist attack in Topeka last week. The mass uploads around the world.”

“I don't understand, Elizabeth.”

She drew a ragged breath. “It's just... it's crazy, Dad. It snuck up on us. Everyone always said it'd never happen here, but here it is. I listen to the news. I hear stories about entire towns disappearing where this thing landed. It’ll happen to Concrete.”

“That isn't happening to Concrete,” Ralph said defiantly.

“I don't know,” said Eliza, weakly. “I never thought George would leave me. I've known him for, like, ten years? And what do we fight over? What breaks us up? A video game, and that stupid white horse.” She scoffed. “It'd be stupid if it wasn't so sad.” She righted herself and locked eyes with her father. “Things are going to get worse.”

Rob shook his head. “We need to do something. It's not just us. The whole town's been hit. A few kids are running off, just like Tom. I've gotten calls from the neighborhood already. Dan and Mary were over here an hour ago asking if I saw their son, he went missing too. We have to do something. Anything! How can we stop this?”

Ralph stood up. “I know what we do. We go to the nearest clinic and burn it down.”

This roused Eliza from her defeated stupor, and she became alert immediately. “What? No!”

“What else can we do, Lizzie?” Ralph spoke through gritted teeth. “This thing's gonna take more families whole unless we put a stop to it.”

“Ignoring the fact that you're telling this to a cop,” Eliza said, “what happens if someone gets hurt by that fire? What if it hits the forest? The woods are a tinderbox right now! And don't forget the riots. Germany had it the worst. They already went through this! There's precedent. Violence never worked, it never stopped anything! People uploaded faster, the fear just made it all worse!”

“Yeah. But they haven't tried this shit here in America," Ralph countered. "And if the government is going to let them walk all over us, we've gotta stand up and put a stop to it. It's what our rights are for!”

“We're going to be enforcing on this. The police are on high alert, they know what to expect. We haven't been blind this whole time to what's going on in the rest of the world. You aren't rolling in and lighting the place up! You'll kill someone, or you'll get killed. I'm not letting you do it!”

Ralph stepped forward, a little too close for comfort. She stood up instantly as his voice became a growl. “And what the hell are you going to do to stop me? You siding with the AI? Because it sounds like it.” Eliza saw something in his eyes that scared her. She was instantly reminded of the suspects she dealt with at work.

Robert threw himself standing and stepped between them, both of his hands outstretched. “Stop it! Both of you! Eliza, plant it, now!” Rob turned to Ralph as Eliza backed up. She stepped beside her armchair instead of sitting down. She wouldn't put herself in a position of weakness until Ralph was more calm.

Rob glared at his brother. “Ralph, if you ever come at my daughter like that again, I'll knock you out.”

The two brothers stared each other down.

“Ralph, please!” June shouted.

Eliza was on a spring as she stood sidelong. She read her uncle's body language up and down, making ready to launch forward if he laid so much as a finger on her father.

Rob spoke slow and deliberately to his brother. “Ralph. I want you to listen to me. We're all scared here, but we're all on the same side. We all lost Gale. We're... we're losing Tom. Eliza lost George. She is not condoning the clinics. She just doesn't want you to get arrested, worse killed. She loves you, and we've lost enough already.”

Ralph glared at him, and then at Eliza, who tried her best to look sympathetic but probably just looked frustrated. Ralph turned to June, who nodded encouragingly. He frowned. “Alright,” he said shamefully. “Sorry, Lizzie.” Ralph backed down, and sat.

“It's okay,” Eliza mumbled, as she sat down too.

Ralph rubbed his goatee, clearly irritated. “We still need to do something about this.” He shot a glance at Eliza, then back at Rob. “We need to leave. Go move someplace it’s not legal. Get away from these ponypads. Something. Anything.”

Rob frowned. “Abandon our home? Abandon our community? Are you serious?”

“It's a computer talking to Congress, Rob. It's all over the internet. If we go away, away from computers, it'd be the only way we can get clear.”

“Go where?” Rob asked.

Ralph shrugged. “I don’t know. The woods?”

“Not possible,” Eliza said. “What're you going to eat? There's...” She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “There's nothing left. Deer? Almost extinct. Elk? Not one sighting in months, statewide. Predators are dying off too. There's no way to live off the land anymore, no way to poach for your meals. The forests are a powder keg with all the underbrush. You'd need to farm out in the open if you want to be even halfway sustainable.”

"And you don't see a connection there, Lizzie?"

Rob stepped to the center of the room and addressed everyone. “Look, Ralph. I think fleeing the country is a step too far. Right now, things are stable. This is something we need to handle carefully. We circle the wagons, we convince people to stop playing the game. Don't even go near a ponypad. Tom, Gale, and George all played it a lot. George said a few times that he'd never upload, even told me once that uploading was crazy. Yet, here we are. He's going.”

Eliza lowered her eyes to stare into the carpet. She zoned out again.

Ralph spoke next. “I don't care what Tom or George say about Gale, or about themselves. This game is death. Every country that has let this thing in has fallen apart. We need to be ready."

"For now,” Rob said, “just... stay strong, everyone. For Tom." He looked at Eliza. "Maybe we can get him to turn around.”

“Dad, I don't know if I can stop Tom from going.” Eliza rubbed her sore eyes with a palm. “He's so determined. He has a girlfriend there. And he thinks he's been talking to Gale.”

“Elizabeth,” Rob said softly. Eliza cradled her face in her hand, the pain of his expression making her want to flee from the stress it was causing her. Robert crouched before her and placed his hands on her shoulders. For all her skills, her training, and her knowledge, she still felt like a little girl when he did that. He waited until she looked up into his eyes. “You have to try. Please. Right now, you're the only one he'll listen to.”

Eliza knew that it wasn’t meant to be. She knew from her brother’s voice that his mind was made up, and nothing could change it. She’d been through it before with Gale, afterall. She remembered that sickening tone, the one that spoke with the certainty of a cultist. Slowly, she realized she was starting to feel for Tom the way she had felt about Gale for two years. It hurt so much to think of her perfect, beloved little brother that way.

But still, she’d bear the burden again. She’d play her part. She’d try, even if she knew it was a lost cause, even though she knew her breath would be wasted. She’d try, because her family depended on her, and because she knew it would destroy them to lose a second child. At least it wouldn’t be her. It’d never be her, she told herself.

“I’ll try, Dad...”

Author's Note

[Gustavo Santaolalla - De Ushuaia a La Quiaca]

🌒 ~ Apex told me of her dreams quite often, early on in our friendship. Some may say that this was a mistake, for I was not the only audience to her confidences, to her baring of soul. Knowing all that I know now... events still would have transpired similarly, whether she had related her dreams freely bared or not. So, I do not regret hearing them.

I was most relieved that Elizabeth retained the impulse to describe her recurring dreams to me, as she told me this story. It had meant that some part of her still trusted me to see the inner workings of her soul, even knowing the Other was still listening. That must have taken no small measure of resolve, with that understanding in mind. It gave me hope for her.

I am relieved to have met many of her friends and family, in the years since this tale. It fills me with great hope as well. When all is said and done, this ordeal will have been made meaningful. It is the only way this works, this... telling of stories. This Fire, and your audience to it.