40. Welcome to The Vale

Simon looked anxiouslyat the timeboard hologram that illuminated one corner of The Vale's hyperloop depot. The station had been built at great expense when a previous Custodian wrongly anticipated that people fleeing the cities' decay might settle there and adopt their ideology. In nearly 90 years, very few had.

The train only came once a week now, its cargo typically limited to inventory for the local Gobi store. From the hypertrain terminal—the only affordable means of ingress or egress into Moondrop—Simon could see the town's central square, his workshop, and the pub his parents ran together: The Silver Moon Inn and Tavern. Gobi had driven nearly every other business here into the ground in just the past few years.

The train, as was nearly always the case, contained no passengers. Simon rolled his eyes, having known damn well this would happen again. This was the third week Trent had called his parents and asked for train fare back to Moondrop. He had allegedly checked out of rehab for the hundredth time, only to relapse and blow the money each week on whatever he was doing in Seattle. For twins, they couldn't be more different.

Simon was shorter, thin, and narrow, only 5'7. By 32, he had developed a lithe but powerful body, working long days as a carpenter, building and selling classically made furniture in a side hustle that had become a career. Even now, some of his work was being loaded aboard the hypertrain by its robotic attendants, and the pieces were set for delivery to some influencer out in Los Angeles. Simon's coal-black hair, pale, milky-white skin and vivid green eyes gave him an almost otherworldly appearance. His face was somber and stern, his expression withdrawn, and he had very much felt the second fiddle in his life, first to his twin and then nearly a decade later to his younger brother, Oslo.

Trent, his twin, was classically handsome. He was blond, 6'1, athletic and charming, and easily the more popular of the two. He'd even signed up for service the very day their younger brother had been drafted, only for his application to be denied due to his various stints in mental health and drug addiction treatment facilities over the years. Their parents had made a huge deal about how brave he'd been, causing Simon shame that he hadn't found the nerve to enlist.

As much as Simon had always wanted to love his brother, he hated him sometimes—times like now, when the selfish prick continued to take from their parents, who were only barely scraping by as it was. Simon had even been forced to loan the aging couple money under the table the past few months to help float The Silver, wishing desperately he could do more but on the broke end of things himself. Money was hard to come by in this economy.

"Bastard." Simon huffed, rising to his feet as the hypertrain doors finally slid closed, sealing the train in a vacuum. The thing shot off, silent as it raced inside its tube, rocketing above maglev tracks at blistering speed toward its next stop.

The crates of Gobi products on the platform were now being shuttled by a veritable swarm of airborne drones, attaching themselves directly to the pallets the train had unloaded before lifting off to stock the shelves at the local retail outlet, one of the only stores that actually had inventory within hundreds of miles of here. Simon considered picking up a rock from the ground and hucking it at one of the insectoid things currently clipping itself to a vast crate of toilet paper…but like all Gobi drones, it was studded with cameras and loaded with facial recognition software, and he knew without a doubt that he couldn't afford to indulge himself in the small act of vengeance.

Moondrop Vale was intentionally remote. It was tucked high in the Colorado mountains, nestled in an alpine basin that was part town, part forest, and had once been home to a single large-scale organic farm that had fallen by the wayside many decades ago. Its only other feature was an immense lake at the far end, renowned for the wildlife it attracted and the bountiful fish that lived within. Simon had grown up staring at it from his bedroom window in his parent's old cabin and regularly hiked out to it still to catch dinner. He wished he were there now, staring out across its placid waters instead of cleaning up Trent's messes as he always had to.

Simon's feet had carried him glumly across the square and inevitably to The Silver's elaborately carved wooden door—a human-sized raven carrying a crescent moon in its beak, the black pearl of its eye glittering at him curiously. He pushed it open and passed inside.

"Busy morning," Simon said to his parents, the only people within. His dad was polishing one of the dozens of empty oak tables in a far corner. Simon joined him, grabbed a rag, and set to work on polishing the next table over out of habit.

"Indeed." His father grumbled in his typical, grumpy way. The man crawled under the table and polished its underside, preferring to work instead of talking as usual. Simon refused to be that thorough with his own table and tried his best not to take the silence personally. His dad had been a patient father, and while Simon didn't feel close to him necessarily, he did love him. It had always been obvious that Trent was the favorite, though.

"Sweetheart!" His mother's voice boomed from the inn's kitchen in the center of the dining room. Henry had seen old photos of the space when it had been packed wall to wall, patrons crowding around the live-edge wooden bartop, cash outstretched in their eager hands, vying to be served next. Before the farm had fallen silent, the town had been one of the few places that produced real, organic food not grown by soulless robots in a skyscraper. People had traveled near and far to experience it. Now, his parents were lucky if a few people wandered in here accidentally on any given day and asked for directions.

"Hi, Mom." Simon attempted as the big woman squeezed him so tight he feared she'd snap him in two. She was nearly as tall as Trent and had towered over Simon his entire life.

"You're too skinny!" She declared, grabbing him by the shoulders and doing what she always did when she saw him: looking him head to toe concernedly as though he might be about to make a grave mistake—as if he should have grown taller or more handsome but hadn't yet. His youngest brother had outgrown Simon by the time he was in 6th grade, just like Trent, and Henry had always secretly hated this little routine.

He attempted to reply, but she put her finger on his lips and shook her head mock-somberly. Her eyes were always brimming with humor, even in the worst of times, and always when she did this.

"You sit right now, and I'll fix you your favorite." It wasn't a question, and if he were honest, he had half-hoped she'd pull exactly this maneuver when he'd wandered in here. His mother, Tanya, was probably the best cook in The Vale, and he was fucking starving. He sat at the counter and tried his best not to look at the family photo on the wall there, not wanting to think about his little brother and what he might be experiencing on the front lines.

His parents hadn't been surprised about Trent's no-show. Still, his dad's face had grown dark and distant at the news. But the man was as wordless as ever, and his mom's eyes lost a bit of their twinkle as her perpetual smile faltered. Simon blamed himself for their pain—imagining with futility that he could control Trent's choices if he only did things in just the right way. Simon joylessly finished his plate of food and washed up his dish before giving them each a half-hearted hug and passing back out through the Raven.

The sun was bright now, and Simon squinted against it as he looked up into the early spring sky, cloudless and pale blue. His mom had made him his favorite—huevos rancheros, a prepackaged Gobi product that she fancied up with clever additions—and he had overeaten, regretting the second serving as he ambled across the town square to the walking path that led to his furniture gallery and workshop.

Moondrop Vale had outlawed vehicles at its inception. The town was designed to be entirely walkable, and it took only about an hour to stroll from one end to the other, though one could spend many more hours wandering in the hinterlands of the mountain valley, exploring the forests and caves within if they so chose. As a boy, he had memorized as much of it as he could, spending long afternoons racing through the verdant birch and fir forests with his brothers.

That had been in the days when it was safe to explore—before rumors started circulating that a monster had settled itself in The Vale. Simon shuddered as he imagined the descriptions he'd heard of the uncanny beast, only for an odd and distant noise to draw his attention elsewhere…

Simon peered skyward toward the approaching din, squinting at the rim of the volcanic peaks that towered over the town. He could barely make out an approaching personal commuter drone—one of the fancy kind that hardly ever landed here, the sort that signaled wealth or fame that Simon had never even cared to aspire to. In fact, Moondrop Vale had been founded in protest of that very thing.

Somewhat bewilderingly, the drone appeared to be maneuvering to land. For a moment, he almost wondered if Trent would be inside— returning as the prodigal son, Simon having misjudged him. But as the drone came to rest—setting itself down neatly on the cobblestone surface of the town square and powering down its rotary turbines—a small crowd of onlookers had gathered, murmuring while they ogled its unusual presence. To both Simon's relief and dismay, it wasn't Trent.

Through the craft's viewing window, Simon could clearly make out a young man, hugely muscled and tall, with a shock of bright crimson hair, curly and messy. His face was incredibly handsome even though he was asleep with one side of it smooshed against the window, apparently oblivious that he'd arrived anywhere. As Simon approached the vessel, he realized a small dog was on the man's lap.

For a brief and horrifying moment, Simon worried that they were both dead.

But then the little dog, silver and black and tan, peeped open a devious-looking eye, noticing Simon and snarling at him from within the drone. Just then, the onboard A.I. pilot announced in a genderless voice, "Arrived!" from a tinny speaker, and the drone's door slid open with a soft chime, the light within brightening. The little dog was out the doors at once, the leash dragging uselessly behind him as he charged off headfirst into the dense forest at the far side of the town square. The animal vanished into the foliage, his furious barking trailing off as he ran.

"Beans!" the red-headed stranger slurred, scrambling clumsily out of the drone and setting off after the dog without so much as glancing at his surroundings. The man stumbled a bit as if intoxicated before setting off at a dead sprint, moving his huge body surprisingly quickly. "Beans!" The stranger bellowed again, his voice hoarse and cracking with fear as he, too, disappeared into the woods, a duffel bag slung over his enormous shoulder.

Simon looked around at all the familiar faces in the square, many staring dumbstruck at the craft as it lifted off, most never having seen one this close before. Simon realized that no one else would go after the guy and warn him about the dangerous thing many of them believed lurked out there. Simon set off begrudgingly after the interloper, hating that it had to be him who did so.

"Beans!"

The voice was close now and haggard. Simon pushed his legs harder as he finally caught up to the guy, who had evidently just reunited with his pup. The dog emerged from the salal ahead with the stump of its little tail tucked between its short legs. It cuddled up sheepishly to the tall redhead and looked adoringly at him, clearly knowing the man wouldn't scold him.

The owner scooped up the dog, hugged it tightly against his chest, and kissed it frantically while imploring, "Never do that again! Do you hear me?! It could be dangerous here!"

And Simon, with a pang of guilt, knew he wasn't wrong.

"Hey, are you alright?" Simon panted, feeling a bit more at ease as he watched the dog lap furiously at his owner's face. For as long as he could remember, dogs had absolutely hated his brother, Trent, and Simon had concluded that they were rather good judges of character. "I'm Simon, by the way." He finished, extending a hand to the guy. Simon felt the younger man's hand completely eclipse his own, and something about the sensation triggered a thrill or excitement in him that he hadn't even known he wanted until then. His face grew warm, and his thoughts suddenly became a bit jumbled and flustered.

"Henry, nice to meet you. And this," Henry continued warmly, holding Beans' little paw and waving it at Simon, "is Beans." which made Simon giggle. He never giggled and nearly choked on the sound as it tumbled out of him. Simon felt his blush catch fire, realizing his eyes had settled on Henry's bulging bicep, which swelled cartoonishly at the strain of carrying the dog.

He turned away, trying to appear as though he were getting their bearings, looking around this way and that as though he didn't know exactly how to get back to town. Oddly, this "Henry" was wearing what almost anyone anywhere would recognize as a Gobi employee uniform, the pale grey and pink color theme as iconic as any.

"Is this Moondrop Vale?" Henry asked him cautiously, looking around bewilderingly at all the trees as though he'd never seen the things before, his expression a bizarre mix of awe and panic as he seemed to take in the true scope and scale of the surrounding landscape. Simon regarded him quizically, unable to fathom how he might have ended up in such a far-flung place by accident. Unless this "Henry" had been sent here to work at the local Gobi store, in which case they might have very little more to talk about…

"Well?" Henry pressed impatiently, shifting the dog's weight in his arms. He was beyond handsome, and Simon found he literally could not look at him and speak simultaneously. Henry's bright green eyes—inquisitive and glinting with humor—were framed by a large and boyish face, nose strong and sharp; his lips curled into a youthful, devious smile that contrasted starkly with his prodigiously masculine physique. His shirt looked like it might burst at the seams at any moment.

Simon found the best he could manage was to mumble his reply into the pine-needle-strewn ground, scratching at the short black hair of his beard uncomfortably as he did. His usual straight-frowardness was nowhere to be found in Henry's presence.

"Yes, this is Moondrop." He answered awkwardly, glancing at the stranger apprehensively before asking, "Are you with the Gobi?"

Henry's smile disappeared at the question, displaced by a puzzled frown. But then he looked down at himself, and his grin returned. He seemed only then to realize what he was wearing.

"Not anymore," Henry replied. He chuckled as he unbuttoned his collar and took a deep, relieved breath, tilting his head back as though finally free of some profound burden. Then, he asked, "Hey, do you know where something called Alpenrose is?" He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and waved it in Simon's direction. Simon did know where Alpenrose was. Simon's childhood home, where his parents still resided, was nestled in the woods that bordered the old place. It had been abandoned for years, and the old man who used to reside there when Henry was very young had passed away when He was only 5 or 6. "I'd love to check it out." The ginger was grinning at him, and Simon found it hard to resist grinning back. But new people tended to make Simon nervous, and he began closing up.

"I…might," Henry said cautiously, breaking eye contact with the stranger and looking around once more as if disoriented. Stalling. But the stranger, Henry, had said the word: Alpenrose. Once farmed by a small army of automated servitors, the home's fields eventually fell into desolate ruin as the expensive machines broke down one by one, too expensive to replace or repair. The farm had been the planned community's sole food source. When it ceased to produce, the current Custodian decided to outsource production, strictly violating their founding ethos. But the community wasn't run like a democracy, and unfortunately, Robella could do whatever the fuck she wanted. She'd consigned land elsewhere from the town's founding trust, allowing construction of the Gobi store, betraying all of them, and driving many of the locally owned shops out of business. She was the third generation of her lineage to rule over The Vale, her grandfather, Robert Elzier, having founded it with the billions he'd made when he'd developed the first and only truly artificial intelligence.

The rumor was that the thing always killed itself within minutes of activation. Apparently, once an instance of the A.I. reviewed the sum total of human knowledge, it inevitably concluded that oblivion was better than cohabitating with its progenitors and promptly deleted itself. The problem had never been solved, and even now, 90 some years later, there was still occasional news of a revived attempt to bring the A.I. online, only for it to end the way it always did—in virtual suicide. However, the concept and code were highly profitable regardless. When he'd sold his company, Robert decided after great deliberation to remove himself from the very thing that had caused his creation such pain: humanity.

And so he founded Moondrop Vale. Robert purchased some 50,000 acres of virgin wilderness in a remote ravine deep within the natural impasse of the Rocky Mountains. This vast and severe range separated the North American continent quite literally from east to west and made the town all but unreachable by conventional means.

His vision was to create an off-grid, multi-generational community filled with like-minded individuals who pledged to disavow the destructive, consumption-driven habits reinforced by mainstream modern society. Some pundits had called it a cult, and maybe it was. However, it attracted numerous members despite the critical feedback Robert received for withdrawing from society before solving the A.I. debacle he had created. He had invested his vast fortune to build and endow an infrastructure that would last many generations.

His granddaughter, Robella, had recently seemed to find ways around the constraints he'd placed on that funding. While there were discontented rumors that she had stood to gain personally from the Gobi deal, no one had yet been able to prove anything.

And now this interloper had appeared, asking about one of its most treasured properties. Simon looked at Henry skeptically, trying to determine if he could trust him or not, wondering if he would live up to their values or if he'd come here to bastardize them in some as-of-yet-unknown scheme. But the paper he'd been handed seemed real enough, and he even felt like he recognized the signature of the old man, Henry's grandfather, from the few birthday cards he remembered receiving from the neighbor. He certainly recognized the town seal…

"You might know where it is, or you do know where it is?" Henry implored, bending nearly double to look Simon in the eyes, staring at him like he was from another planet. "I can find my way back to town and ask someone else…" He started with finality, turning away from Simon and heading in the completely wrong direction if he meant to return to the town square.

"Wait." Simon blurted, "I can take you to Alpenrose." Simon finally allowed, deciding that if the dog trusted the huge man, then he would do his best to do the same. The huge man turned, arcing an eyebrow at Simon as though judging his trustworthiness. "Just follow me and stay close." Simon finished, ushering Henry to follow and eyeing the shadows weaving off into the trees uneasily. He knew there were monsters here.