//------------------------------// // Once Upon a Time... In Subzero Kiev // Story: Siblings at the Edge // by Westphalian_Musketeer //------------------------------// A figure grunted along the yards of several buildings. The street urchin’s feet crunched against the frosted grass. The quilting and padding and insulation of its parka, snow pants, hoodie, mittens and scarf impeded its movement to a strangled waddle as intermittent puffs of breath escaped from the top. Enveloped in its arms were newspapers and a black plastic bag that warmed its arms and filled its nostrils with the scent of gravy. It stopped. The wind whipped at its hood and scarf, revealing a mildly masculine face with a shock of towhead-blond hair. He winced against the wind, wrinkling his features. He looked at the highway beyond the alley. Sleek cars shining with chrome and halogen lights flashed by noiselessly under the power of silent electric engines. The exception was a bulky utility truck that zoomed by in the nearest lane. A small screwdriver flew off the tool box of the utility truck and landed a few feet from the gutter. The boy stared at the screwdriver. He could use that, he could always do with one more thing to use. Looking from left to right, he edged towards the road, his attention split between the load in his arms, the screwdriver on the ground, the oncoming cars, and the path he had been on before. A jet of steam blew forth from his mouth. He dropped the papers between his legs, nestling them against the wind before planting the bag on top of them so as to secure the precious fuel. Waddling to the edge of the road, he blinked away the disorienting streaks of light from the cars’ headlights. He reached down for the screwdriver but his short stubby arms didn’t make it two feet past the curb. Pulling back as a sedan honked at him, he stretched, turning about so his arms had as much movement as possible. The boy grasped for the screw driver again, and then threw one arm back as he nearly face-planted onto the road, and underneath a bus. A whine escaped from his mouth as he stomped on the ground. He looked down the road and gauged the distance and speed of an oncoming car by the headlights in the fog. As the distance seemed safe enough he dashed out into the road, leaned over, picked up the screwdriver and made a mad dash for the safety of the curb. The boy tripped on the curb as the squeal of braking tires reached his ears. He tumbled over the bag knocking it off the pile of papers and sending the precious strips of words and wood pulp into the wind and towards the traffic. Lifting himself on one knee he took a half step, grabbing at the papers but not catching a single one. Looking down he let out a sob at the black bag, now ruptured, and the several half-eaten steaks, burgers, and salads strewn about on the cold concrete. Sniffing he grabbed the refuse, stuffed it into the bag's hole and picked it up, waddling back to the path, grumbling. As he walked, the buildings slowly shifted from general businesses to massive slivers of steel and mirror that jutted up into the sky. Nestled between two such skyscrapers was a glowing box of advertisements and news reports, the day's events and products lined up. A woman with a sleek metallic arm and clad in a sports bra and jeans stepped onto the largest screen. She walked up to a construction-site sized bolt partially embedded in a girder. Smirking she punched towards the girder; her hand morphed and new bits flipped into position until a drill bit was grinding the bolt into the girder. The woman pulled back, her arm morphing back as it grabbed a glass of wine from off-screen. Her head tilted and she leaned in to admire her work. A mauve unicorn approached the girder. Her horn flashed brilliant yellow for a moment and the girder turned into gold. The unicorn floated out her own glass of wine, tapping it against the woman's. They drank and laughed soundlessly as the screen faded to a pale celadon green. Bold face words flashed onto the screen, "Now offering industrial grade cybernetics and transfiguration! Details inside!" The boy walked up to the screen, bracing a hand against the cold glass screen. An asterisk appeared next to his hand with a message in tiny white print, "Must be twenty or older." The boy’s gloved hand smacked into the glass, balled into a fist. He stalked down the alley for another block. Reaching the entrance to an underground parking lot he descended three stories, arriving at a corner that led to a maintenance panel. The lights above the panel were dead, but the boy walked past it and pulled back a piece of loose grating. Peering inside he walked in, tossing the bag to the ground. A girl scurried out of the shadows, her blond, somewhat muddied hair reflecting the light from the open entrance. She looked up, her eyes darting from the boy to the screwdriver clenched in his hand and back at him. She scuttled towards the bag and started scrounging in it for the food she knew would be, must be inside. His eyes followed the girl’s scuttling on the floor then drooped to the ground "I lost the paper I gathered for the fire," he said. The girl grabbed a rib eye, locked it in her jaw and walked over to the boy, wrapping her arms around his waist, her head reaching up to the top of his stomach. "Ivan..." she managed to say before breaking into a fit of coughing and doubling over on the floor. Ivan reached down for her but she held out a hand. "I'm..." she hacked, "just..." She heaved and a spray of blood smacked against the wall. Wiping her mouth with her sleeve she looked up at Ivan, bags of loose discolored skin hanging under her eyes, lips quivering. "Katna..." said Ivan. He looked over at the corner. A dozen empty bottles with labels such as Isoniazid, Rifampin, Ethambutol and other unpronounceable antibiotic names lay strewn about, together with a few syringes and several stolen ampoules of the expensive bacteriophage strains only the rich could afford. "We're out, brother," Katna wheezed, a hand pressed against her side as she leaned against the wall. Ivan turned the screwdriver in his hand before lifting it up in front of his face. "I found a tool." Katna looked up, nodding. "That's good." Ivan reached to the bag of food he’d plumbed from a dumpster and passed a rib to Katna. She took it and suckled the meat and gristle that still clung to it while Ivan took out a half-eaten hamburger, joining his sister in meal-time. He rested his back against the wall, squirming away from the drop of moisture running down nearby. He kept eating and staring at the wall, his brow curled into a knot of muscle as hard as the concrete surrounding them. He tossed the screwdriver towards one of the corners, landing it in a pile of purses, water bottles, pliers and even a car battery. Anything that might be useful. A shiver traveled down Katna’s back. She coughed and rolled away from Ivan. Good morning, concrete walls! Good morning, defunct electrical panel! Quietly crawling to one of the darkened corners so as to not disrupt his sleep, she pulled out a book. Stamped on the plain green paper front in gold ink was the title: “Tales from the Thousand and One Nights”. Katna flipped open the book and found her spot, going over the words silently: Once upon a time in Baghdad, there lived a poor porter named Sinbad… Katna reached to the corner again and found a world atlas. Flipping it open she traced her fingers over the map. Northern Europe, with the formation of the British, Dutch and Netherland Archipelagos, then central Europe, past to the Ukraine… Ah, Baghdad, in the middle of the desert past Turkey, just like the last time she checked. Her mouth scrunched up to the side as she examined the rest of the world map. Salt-water inlets snaked their way through the low-elevation areas of Russia to the north. The Mediterranean, spared from flooding thanks to a few well-placed dams. Africa, the northern half was alight with red lines to mark borders in dispute, just as was the case further east with Pakistan, India and China. There, the area of Bangladesh that had filled in with water. Past that, in the middle of the Pacific, two island-continents attached by a small land-bridge like a miniaturized parody of the North and South Americas further east. That was where the ponies had come from, apparently. She’d never had the chance to ask one of them. The occasional newspaper she read before Ivan burned it for warmth described other creatures too, but nothing she had seen in real life, only in pictures of her story books. She closed the atlas and resumed reading, her foot tapping on the concrete to an imagined epic confrontation between brave sailors and savage beasts. “How many times have you read that?” Katna gasped and slapped the book onto her lap. She looked over at Ivan as he got up. “This will be the fourth time.” “How are you feeling?” Katna breathed in and winced at the raspiness towards the end of it. She broke into a coughing fit, shoved the book to the side and let loose the hacking demands of her lungs into her lap. When finished she pulled away and shook her head at the little red droplets spackled on her jeans. “Not good.” Ivan stood, walked to the garbage bag of food and fished out a half-eaten steak. His teeth tore into it and he looked at the entrance to their shelter. “There’s a pharmacy ten blocks away that I haven’t been to, they might have something. There’s a legal office across from it too. They might have some shredded documents or cardboard boxes in the dumpster.” He smiled at Katna. “We’ll have a fire tonight,” he said, then bit again into his cold steak. Picking through the garbage Katna retrieved a few leaves of lettuce and munched on those. She swallowed them down, burped and coughed again, placing her fist over her mouth to cover it. When she pulled it away out of the corner of her eye she spotted Ivan looking down at her. Ivan inclined his head to the book corner then sat. “Do you think the medicine will still work?” Katna shook her head and shrugged. “Maybe… the bacterio… phages… they’re tiny animals that attack the other ones that are making me sick, but they only work on really specific types. If we find the right one, it’ll work.” Ivan clutched his knees and pulled them to his chest. “And if I don’t?” Katna looked down at the ground and shrugged. Grunting Ivan stood up then paced the room gathering and slipping into his winter-wear. He walked to the electrical panel, pulled it back letting in a breeze from the parking lot and took a step outside, turning to Katna before leaving. “Keep warm Katna. I’m bringing fuel for a fire and medicine. Promise.” With that he left, bending the panel back into place. The pit-pat of footsteps reached Katna’s ears for a few moments, then nothing. Ivan walked among the tall strangers shuffling along the sidewalks, alternately swinging out his fists in time with the opposite legs and turning his torso to squeeze between people as he strode to outpace those around him. His eyes locked on the pharmacy, occasionally darting to the office building on the opposing side. Grab the papers, stow them away, come back, grab the medicine. Ivan walked past the pharmacy to a crosswalk, then doubled back to the office building, two stories of concrete blocks dotted with windows. In the back there were two dumpsters. He searched them and found a half-dozen cardboard boxes pressed flat. He fished them out, laying them beside the building. Easy to pick up on the run. Ivan returned to the pharmacy, a little white building that blended in with the sky and snow, a single large orange neon light sign to make it stick out. A man walked out of the pharmacy through the glass doors, fumbling with a blue and white box. He stuck out a finger and a silver blade jutted out of it. He ran the blade over the packaging, then pulled out some pills. The blade receded back into his hand and he popped the two pills before holding out the augmented limb and smiling as he wiggled his five matte-finished fingers. Ivan leaned to the side and observed a mare with a tan coat and red mane walking to the door. No wings, no horn. She turned at the door and entered. Ivan quickly followed suit. Always enter with someone else. As he passed the first set of glass doors he scanned the shelves. Full, good! The earth pony mare pushed open the second door and Ivan squeezed past her. He immediately turned to the right and went to the farthest aisle, his eyes darting to the ceiling’s corner. Camera, pull scarf over face and keep eyes down. Ivan turned left down the aisle and inspected the contents. Painkillers, cold remedies, echinacea, cough medicine... Ivan grabbed a box of cough medicine and tucked it into his jacket then turned around to the next aisle. Family planning, nothing for him there. He quickly went through the next aisles, nothing immediately concerning the cure of more serious illnesses. Ivan bit his lip, walking across the aisle to a corner where a blood-pressure cuff sat next to a stool. He looked over as the earth pony reared up and placed her front hooves on the counter. Ivan leaned out from his place, examining the counter and the shelves behind it. He squinted as he scanned the shelves, his gaze occasionally darting to the woman at the counter. Her pale skin stood out against her black hair, and contrasted even more with the metallic globe stuck in her right eye-socket. “Excuse me,” said the earth pony, “but I don’t suppose you supply anything compatible with ponies?” “It depends, what are you looking for specifically?” asked the woman. Ivan’s eyes widened as his eyes settled on a familiar brand name, Omnineca Myco, right behind the pharmacist. He leaned back, sighed and leaned out again. No door blocking the way behind the counter. Walk in, grab the boxes and dart out while the pharmacist panics over a theft. “Ah, grooming products would be on the back wall,” the pharmacist said pointing to the opposite side of the store. “Thank you!” replied the earth pony. She turned around, walking to the back. The pharmacist watched as she meandered down the aisle. Ivan left his spot bending his legs and slouching so as to appear shorter and walked to the entrance behind the back counter, rounding it as though he owned the place. The pharmacist looked down and blinked, shaking her head. “Excuse me! Boy? You’re not allowed back here. Are you lost? Is your mommy near? Excuse me?” Ivan’s arm darted out as he walked by her, snatching two boxes off the shelf and then knocking over the rest of the row to the ground. “Hey!” He broke into a run and vaulted over the counter and out the front door. Alarms blared as he passed by. His shoulder slammed into the last door. Ivan slammed it shut behind him and grinned at the click that came with it. He looked down the street both ways and dashed across. He heard a weak thud and looked back to see the pharmacist wrangling with some keys at the door. Ivan made his way to the other side of the road and continued down the alley. He quickly grabbed the cardboard boxes beside the office building and was off into the distance. Some medicine and a warm fire. That was what his sister needed. That was what he would give. Tiny hands rubbed against each other, then against pink-sleeved arms. Katna’s teeth chattered as she wiggled her feet. She reached over to a hoodie hanging on a pipe and pulled it over to her, where she then put it on, savoring as the soft fleece inside held the warmth that tried fleeing out of her. She hummed, closing her eyes and spinning her torso in place. Taking one of her books she leaned over her hands as they pressed the pages flat, her breath keeping them warm. “And th-the vagabond w-was f-forced b-by Jafar to…” Katna slammed the book shut and set it aside. She stood up and started pacing. Movement. Her muscles made heat when she used them, that would keep her warm until Ivan got back. But God was it cold! The tiny hairs on the back of her hands stood on end as goose-bumps spread over her entire body. Her pace quickened, her knees bending sharply as she lifted up her feet higher, working more muscle groups for more heat. Katna breathed in to keep pace with the extra physical exertion. She crossed that line in her chest, that amount of air she could take in before her body expelled it out. She bent over double, bracing a hand on the wall, hacking and wheezing. Katna vaguely made out the sound of the entrance creaking open as her eyes watered. “Katna!” Something tumbled to the ground and she was jerked from the wall, rough arms pulling her by the shoulders. She was forced to sit on the ground, her back against a warm presence. The grip on her shoulders massaged, then moved towards her back. “Katna, listen to me! You’ve got to breathe!” Katna gave out another cough. “Breathe…” The hands continued to press, shifting pressure up to her neck from the bottom, as though trying to push the sickness out of her. Whatever she was leaning against shifted up and down in a slow rhythmic tempo. “Katna, focus on how I’m breathing! Deep, slow. In, out. Come on, breathe!” The warmth, the pressure and the voice calmed her spasming lungs, and settled into a great inhalation. Katna broke into another cough and a trail of blood spurted out of her mouth, flinging itself into the middle of the room. Katna leaned forward, resuming her breaths. Shallower, but easier. She turned her head to the side as Ivan’s face slid down into her field of vision. “What happened?” he asked. “I was trying to keep warm…” Ivan pursed his lips and got up. He walked to some cardboard piled near the entrance and shoved them to the center of the room. He stood up, removed a shirt hanging over a hole in one of the pipes, pulled a lighter out of his pocket and pressed it to the cardboard, starting a fire that soon reached a peak. The smoke trailed up to the hole in the pipe. He then picked a few items of meat from the old garbage bag. He waved the brown and red lump of animal muscle in front of his face, bringing it up to his eyes before pushing it away. Finding food in the cities wasn’t a problem. Not so on the road. If they could even get on the road. His eyes darted to Katna. Shaking his head Ivan placed the meat and the remaining burgers next to the fire to warm them up, then walked to the medicine. He picked it up and brought it to Katna. “I found some more of that medicine.” Katna twirled a finger in the air. Ivan spun the box around and held it down, its back in front of her face. Her eyes scanned over the tiny writing. She nodded then leaned back. “Bring me one of the older boxes, please,” she said. Ivan obliged, fetching one and presenting it for her to read. Again Katna nodded. “It’s meant for a different series of strains. It might work,” she commented. Ivan wasted no time in tearing open the box and popping the pills out of their individual pockets before putting them in Katna’s palm. She pressed her hand to her mouth and pulled it away, leaving nothing. Ivan sat down, reaching over for a burger, grabbing it and putting it in Katna’s hands. He looked down at the splatter of blood on the floor next to him. “Katna… Even if the medicine is the right one it will take a while before you get better.” Ivan licked his lips. Katna nodded. “And snow has already come… We’re going to have to move soon, and there’s the chance you might not get well… I think now is the time.” Katna smiled, brought the burger to her mouth and bit into it. "So, you think we can do it?" she asked, "Is it real?" Ivan crawled on all fours to Katna, nodding. "Yes, it's real, didn't you read the pamphlet I gave you back then, the first time I tried to get us potion?" Katna chewed her bite before swallowing and nodding. She pointed to a book across from her in the cramped little compartment, a biology textbook. Ivan grabbed it and placed it beside Katna. She ate and flipped through the pages until she got to a picture of the human body. She pointed to the lungs, then swirled her finger on the page. "The thing that's making me sick is in me. The pamphlet says that the potion uses my body to make a new pony body. But what if it uses the germs? Won't I still be sick then?" Ivan scrambled through the garbage near where the textbook had laid until he found the pamphlet. He opened it up near to the back. Tracing his finger over the bulleted points he stopped at one of the last. "The total reconstruction of the body also eliminates all malignant organic particles, making species transfiguration the universal cure to all physical human diseases." He pointed at another bullet point. "Memories and self... actualizing identity are preserved." He flipped through a few more pages and read the line that sounded really smart, hoping it would convince Katna. "It is essentially like taking the data of an old computer and installing it on a new computer for a... holistic... a-and vitalizing fresh start to tackle the world, all provided for by the Equestrian Crown Corporation, Morphic Distributions." Ivan looked to Katna, who had finished one leftover burger and moved onto another rib. "Please, Katna, we have to get out of the city, move south, and we won't have enough food unless we can eat the grass, we'll tire out. But ponies, some of them can fly! We could fly out of here!" Ivan grabbed Katna by the shoulder and shook her slightly. “Don’t you see?” The sudden movement caused another spasm of coughing. Ivan fell backwards as a fleck of blood hit his cheek. When the coughing stopped Katna looked at her arm and the solid crimson stain that ran up its length. She rested her head back against the wall, nodding weakly. "Do what you have to, brother, if you really think this is the only way." Ivan nodded, grabbed two pieces of steak and his headgear and left, heading back to the surface, the screwdriver he found the previous day nestled amidst the folds of his clothing.